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Chapter Text

Whether it is a stroke of luck or pure coincidence that he has chosen to rest in a tree overlooking the front yard of Number Four of Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey is something that matters little to him, though it will later be the subject of vicious debate. He has grown tired from his flight over the Atlantic Ocean and has decided a stopover in the South-Eastern part of England will do him some good. Sure, there are better ways of traveling than in the form of a Large Flying Fox, but he prefers the freedom of spreading his wings, even if it shouldn't be possible for this particular breed of bat.

He is not just any old bat. No, he is Kyrios, a vampire. The strongest there is, known only to the various types of vampires that inhabit the world. Not even the magical folk know of him, though there are likely myths and legends that have been crafted from the stories that had been passed down by word of mouth from the earlier years of his undead life. Even the humans have some legends and myths that allude to him, particularly in Greece, his birth land.

Hanging upside down on one of the tree's thicker branches, he is about to go to sleep when something appears out of nowhere in the near vicinity. His senses are excellent and a source of pride for him, and he tenses when this new presence begins approaching his direction. Kyrios waits with bated breath, prepared to strike should this be an attempt on his life when a cat, and nothing more, walks into his field of vision.

He stares at the cat for a long moment, watching as it looks up at the street sign on the corner of the street some twenty feet away from the animal, and a bit more from him, to read the lettering on the sign that names the street as Privet Drive. That is a bit odd for a cat nowadays. Staring at the animal harder, he notices that the air around it seems to shimmer a little with something he hasn't come across in a very long time. Magic. The cat is one of those magical people able to take on the form of a singular animal.

From within the depths of Number Four comes something of a slight ruckus, causing Kyrios' ears to twitch and his attention to go to the front door of the dwelling. The cat seems to notice the ruckus as well and has jumped up onto the low brick wall that encloses the front yard of Number Four. Both of them watch as the front door opens and a rather portly man with short, slicked down blonde hair and a mustache waddles out onto the stoop. He closes the door with a bit of a bang and walks over to the gate that lets out onto the driveway, where he gets into his car, his great weight causing the vehicle to groan a bit and lean towards that side.

His gaze going back to the cat, he watches it as it watches the human start up the car and drives away from the home. How curious. Ignoring his primary reason for having landed in the tree, not that he genuinely needs to sleep to rest up from the start, he decides that watching the cat will prove much more interesting, as well as probably informative.

Eventually, sometime after the portly man had left, a tall and rather thin woman with a child that oddly resembles a beach ball in size leaves Number Four. The cat seems to stiffen and must have been glaring at the two as the child screams for sweets and kicks at his mother while they walk down the street. He feels a bit repulsed by the child's actions, but even more so towards the parents for allowing the child to act in such a way. The mother doesn't even do anything to dissuade the screaming and kicking, instead promising the very sweets the child is screaming for.

How abhorrent, Kyrios thinks as he lets his attention return to the cat, who is watching the two until they disappear. Once the cat can no longer see them, it visibly relaxes but does not seem intent on moving from the low wall. Is there some sort of business this magical has with the Number Four household?

Hours and hours will pass before he finds out; the residents of Number Four, all having returned, carry out the rest of their day and go to sleep. Precisely one hour after the three have gone to sleep, another person appears right at the corner of Privet Drive. He can see them quite clearly from his branch, and it is an old man dressed quite oddly in a long, flowing purple robe? Kyrios blinks at this, his head tilting slightly as he takes in the pointed high-heeled boots that are peeking out from the hem of the robes, which are covered in silver stars. This magical human has a long white beard, a twice-crooked nose, and he wears crescent moon-shaped glasses. Behind those glasses are blue eyes that twinkle with a sort of wrongness to them.

The oddly-dressed magical man fishes around in his robes, and after a moment or two, he pulls out a cylindrical silver device that somewhat resembles a lighter. Instead of a flame appearing, each time the little device clicks, one of the street lamps on Privet Drive goes out, and a small glowing orb is swallowed up by the device. One by one, he puts out the street lamps until there is but the light of the moon and the stars to hopefully guide their sight.

A glance at the cloudy sky overhead that threatens to give way to rain later on in the evening makes it apparent that they will not be using moonlight or starlight to see. Instead, there comes a thin sort of stick from the man's robes and the tip of it lights up as he approaches Number Four. The man pauses to stare at the cat before an amused smile graces his weathered features.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall," the old man addresses the cat in a slightly amused tone.

The cat, McGonagall, gives the old man a baleful glare and leaps off of the low brick wall to the sidewalk. Mid leap, the cat shifts into a stern-looking woman dressed in green tartan robes. Her hair is still dark, though streaked with bits of gray, and pulled back into a rather severe bun. Minerva's lips purse and become a thin line as she resumes her baleful glare. "How did you know it was me?"

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." The man gives a more benign smile, though that too is setting off Kyrios' senses and instincts.

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," McGonagall replies a bit tartly.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Celebrating? What would they be celebrating? There are no holidays that he is aware of. Samhain has already passed. Maybe it has something to do with the magical humans only. McGonagall seems to disagree, though, for she sniffs angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right." Her tone is impatient and her anger flaring. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no—even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." With this, she jerks her head towards Number Four's darkened living room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls…shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent—I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

Muggles? That is a term he has never come across before. With a glance at Number Four, he figures that it meant that they are nonmagical, though it sounds kind of discriminatory, as well as highly derogatory. As for what all had been on the news, he had been so focused on the cat, on McGonagall, that he had not heard any of it. The non-magical humans had not been all too interesting to him.

"You can't blame them," the old man says in a gentle tone, as though he truly means it. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

Kyrios finds himself blinking at that. He has not been in Great Britain for a long while, so he does not understand what is going on. Maybe listening in further will help.

"I know that." McGonagall is getting more irritable, her anger spiking. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."

Really now? He has not noticed any of that, and certainly, none of that has occurred on this street. The only thing of interest has been McGonagall, and now this old man who he still has no name for.

McGonagall gives the old man a sharp glance at this point, as though she is hoping for him to have something to say on the matter, but he maintains his silence. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared, at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"

That is quite an odd name, and even odder is the whole 'You-Know-Who' business. Kyrios certainly does not know who and hopes that these magicals will reveal who 'You-Know-Who' is. It is also funny that McGonagall seems to be fretting about the non-magicals finding out about them when he has by simply staying in this tree.

"It certainly seems so." The man, now named as Dumbledore, says quite simply. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

That is quite random. Even McGonagall seems to share his sentiment, though hers might have been simply out of naïveté as she exclaims, "A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of." Dumbledore starts fishing in his robes for a said lemon drop.

"No, thank you." McGonagall's tone is icy, and it is obvious that she thinks that now is not the time for a lemon drop. The discussion between the magicals has been rather important, or at least that is how it sounds. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone—"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense—for eleven years, I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." It is at the name, Voldemort, that McGonagall flinches, though Dumbledore, who is busily unsticking two of the precious lemon drops he has fished out of his robes, seems to not notice her reaction. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

Voldemort sounds like a French name. Translating it into English gives him the meaning of 'flight from death', which truly makes this Voldemort seem like a coward. It cannot be his proper name, but it is something to now identify him by. Given that he seems to be a local magical problem, Kyrios is certain that he has never heard of him at all.

"I know you haven't." McGonagall sounds as though she is torn between two different emotions, exasperation and admiration. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know-oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

Kyrios blinks a bit at that, then proceeds to stare harder at this Dumbledore fellow, wondering just how a rather old-looking man provokes such a strong fear in someone who seems to be quite feared himself. He certainly does not see it, though something is very off with the old man, and it is not provoking fear in the bat-formed vampire. Instead, it is giving him the urge to attack.

"You flatter me," Dumbledore says way too calmly for Kyrios to like. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." That sounds like a lie.

McGonagall seems to buy the lie, however. "Only because you're too—well—noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." Dumbledore is definitively not blushing, not even a tiny bit. Instead, he seems rather pleased with himself that the Professor seems to think so highly of him.

McGonagall's gaze sharpens as she stares at Dumbledore, though she cannot see the lack of blush in the darkness. "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Holy hell, this woman has a lot of questions. Questions that he also wants answers to. Kyrios shifts slightly on the branch he is hanging from, growing restless as the conversation carries on. Dumbledore studiously ignores McGonagall as he unsticks yet another lemon drop, which is starting to irritate him quite a bit too.

"What they're saying," she presses on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are—are—that they're—dead."

Dumbledore lowers his head, drawing a gasp from the Professor, followed by a sob.

"Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Albus…" She presses a hand over her heart while Dumbledore merely reaches over and pats her on the back.

"I know… I know…" Albus Dumbledore gets points for making a rather believable grieving countenance, as well as for the heavy way he states that.

"That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But—he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke—and that's why he's gone." Her voice trembles as she speaks, tears wetting her cheeks. Dumbledore nods, his face a perfect picture of glumness. "It's—it's true? After all, he's done…all the people he's killed…he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding…of all the things to stop him…but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

This reads oddly to Kyrios. From what it sounds like, Harry Potter is a young magical child. His parents, James and Lily, are more than likely magical as well, with how familiar McGonagall seems with them. Voldemort, according to these two magicals in front of him, is rather powerful, so it makes little sense that a young child will be able to do anything to him. There is more missing from the story, which he figures involves the parents having something to do with this Voldemort's demise.

"We can only guess." Well, that confirms as much for Kyrios. "We may never know." Another lie. Dumbledore does seem to know what it is, but he is unwilling to share the information.

McGonagall produces a handkerchief which she uses to wipe her eyes and cheeks, shifting her spectacles out of the way to do so. Meanwhile, Dumbledore pulls a golden watch from within his robes and observes it for a few moments. Once he is finished, he puts it away and looks towards the sky. "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," McGonagall sniffs, wiping a bit more at her eyes. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now." In the safety of the darkness, Dumbledore gives a peculiar smile, one that has Kyrios' back up.

"You don't mean—you can't mean the people who live here?" McGonagall straightens up immediately, having nearly the same reaction that he is while pointing at Number Four. "Dumbledore—you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son—I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter, come and live here!"

It had been a rather abhorrent display, and like McGonagall, he would not dare to leave a child here for these non-magicals to deal with, especially if the child is magical like this Harry Potter seems to be.

"It's the best place for him." Dumbledore's tone is firm and one that brooks no arguments. This man is apparently used to getting his way all of the time. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

A letter? He is not going to knock on their door and explain to them why they will be receiving a child in the dead of night? It is a cold and callous maneuver on Albus Dumbledore's part. Kyrios has heard enough that he truly wants to intervene.

"A letter?" McGonagall echoes his thoughts perfectly, her voice is faint as she sits down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous—a legend-I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future—there will be books written about Harry—every child in our world will know his name!"

"Exactly. It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" Dumbledore's voice is calm, his tone coming off as a little condescending while he explains something that should be obvious to McGonagall.

For her credit, McGonagall opens her mouth to argue, then closes it and swallows down her anger. "Yes—yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?"

"Hagrid's bringing him," Dumbledore states that like it should also be obvious.

"You think it—wise—to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" From how she says it, this Hagrid person does not sound very trustworthy to be bringing what sounds to be like a very young child, an infant almost, to Privet Drive.

"I would trust Hagrid with my life." That seals it for Kyrios. Hagrid is not someone he will trust, not with someone who is this crafty and cunning vouching for him.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place." McGonagall's voice is a tad bit grudging as she speaks of this Hagrid person. "But you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to—what was that?"

Kyrios and McGonagall seem to hear it first. A low rumbling sound that fills the air. As it grows closer, Dumbledore finally seems to notice it, and the two magical humans look up and down the street while the vampire looks up at the sky. He watches as the oddest thing, a huge flying motorcycle with an even larger passenger astride it, descends from the sky. The rumbling grows to a loud roar as the magical humans finally look up. The motorcycle falls out of the air and lands on the road in front of them, the man driving it much larger than even himself in his humanoid form.

Hagrid, if that is who he is, is twice as tall as Kyrios is and close to five times as wide. He has a wild look about him, his hair a long, bushy black mess of tangles, and a beard that hides most of his face. His hands are bigger than the lids of a metal trash can and his feet, in what only can be custom-made leather boots, are the size of dolphin calves. In his vast arms, he holds a tiny bundle of blankets that Dumbledore eyes.

"Hagrid." Dumbledore looks and sounds rather relieved, though it is likely due to the bundle that the giant of a man holds. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, Sir." Hagrid moves slowly and carefully to get off of the bike, taking care not to jostle the bundle, Harry Potter, that he holds. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?" Kyrios stares at the old man's back at that question. A flying motorcycle, borrowed from some Sirius Black, and a young boy whose parents are now dead? How are these not problems?

"No sir—house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol." Hagrid holds the bundle out for Dumbledore and McGonagall to peer at. Inside of the blankets, and definitely fast asleep, is a little baby boy with a tuft of jet black hair. Underneath that tuft is a rather painful-looking scar in the shape of a lightning bolt that is still oozing a bit of blood.

"Is that where-?" McGonagall's whisper is something he barely catches, though he has already concluded that the scar is where Voldemort's magic has struck the young Harry Potter.

"Yes. He'll have that scar forever." Dumbledore's eyes gleam as he inspects the scar, or Kyrios imagines that they are gleaming.

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" It is such an innocent question, and it seems well within Dumbledore's supposed great powers to do.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well—give him here, Hagrid—we'd better get this over with." It is not that he cannot get rid of the scar. Dumbledore plainly admitted to as much that he will not get rid of it. What a cruel thing to do to a young child. The scar looks like it hurts, and it is still bleeding.

Dumbledore takes the bundled up Harry and begins to carry him over to the stoop of Number Four. He actually pauses mid-step just before Hagrid calls after him with, "Could I—could I say goodbye to him, sir?" The old man gives a congenial smile and turns to let the giant man give Harry a kiss on the forehead. Immediately after that, Hagrid begins to howl, reminding Kyrios of a dog that has been wounded.

"Shhh!" McGonagall shushes Hagrid with a hiss, glancing 'round at the darkened houses and especially at Number Four. "You'll wake the Muggles!"

Never mind the sleeping child. Let's not wake the non-magicals to let them discover your sordid affair, Kyrios thinks bitterly, watching as the giant stammers out a reply only to be led away by McGonagall. Dumbledore resumes his walk towards the stoop, garnering the vampire's attention as he sets the child down and tucks the letter into the boy's blankets. Once he rejoins McGonagall and Hagrid, the three of them just stand there, staring at Harry in silence.

"Well, that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." McGonagall seems rather put out by Dumbledore's statements, but the magical woman is still staring at Harry on the stoop, her lower lip trembling.

"Yeah. I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall—Professor Dumbledore, sir." Hagrid wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket then climbs back onto the bike. He kicks the engine to life, and with a roar that should awaken the sleeping child, as well as the sleeping non-magicals in the area, it rises into the air, and Hagrid flies off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore gives another congenial smile and nods at the upset woman who merely blows her nose in response. Eyes twinkling, he turns and walks back down the street where, when he reaches the corner, he takes the silver device back out from his robes. He clicks it once, and all the street lamps light back up, casting an orange glow over Privet Drive. He glances back down the street to see the now cat-formed McGonagall turn a corner at the other end of the street. His gaze slides to the bundle of blankets, now barely visible but still on the stoop of Number Four. "Good luck, Harry," is murmured just before the man turns, and with a swish of his equally purple cloak, he winks out of existence.

Dropping down from the tree as he shifts back to his human form, which is truly only half of Hagrid's size, he lands in a crouch. He stands at about six foot one, has an evenly tanned tone to his skin, and his dark hair is long, down to the middle of his shoulder blades and cut so that only there was a swath of it down the center of his head. McGonagall's presence has fully disappeared at this point, so he carefully gets up and approaches the low brick wall that separates Number Four and Number Six's yards. He steps over it and quickly goes over to the stoop where little Harry Potter still sleeps.

His hazel gaze sweeps over the babe's features, lingering on the still bleeding scar for a few seconds. It is disturbing. That Albus Dumbledore would practically abandon this child on his relatives' doorstep with little more than a blanket and a letter to explain his appearance is far more abhorrent than what he has witnessed of the family over the day. The scar will definitely need to be tended to, and while, as a vampire, he does drink blood, it is not such a necessity for him, and the smell of it now is not even doing anything to him.

Kneeling down, he carefully eases the child into his well-muscled arms, his build easily matching that of a Greek statue. Harry doesn't so much as make a sound as he holds the boy to his chest, a long-forgotten feeling welling up in him. He remembers his own sons that he had held back when he had been human, and just as protective of them as he had been then, does he feel the same for this Harry Potter.

He will not dare to leave this boy with the non-magicals that McGonagall has been so against him going to, regardless of them being his last living relations. They are more likely to harm the boy, and Kyrios is not one to let a child suffer at the hands of others. "I'll protect you, Harry Potter, with my life and all of the power at my disposal." Surprisingly, there is a bright flash that envelopes them, which has him squeezing his eyes shut temporarily. Warmth seems to suffuse in him, one that radiates love and acceptance. The love is directed towards the boy, that much he is able to tell, and he seems to tingle a bit as the warmth fades. Opening his eyes, he gazes down at the child in wonder, starting to think that maybe he is a bit wrong about what has happened with Voldemort.

Thunder sounds overhead, followed by a brief flash of lightning, and the rain begins to fall. Cursing under his breath, he takes off the simple dark brown jacket he is wearing and wraps the still sleeping Harry in it, giving him an extra layer of protection. Once that is taken care of, he makes his way out of the yard with Harry. Little Whinging is thankfully just to the south of London, and he can travel at a fast enough pace that will see them in London and at a hotel in at least twenty minutes.

Whether it is a stroke of luck or pure coincidence that he had chosen to rest in a tree overlooking the front yard of Number Four of Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey is something that matters little to him, though it will later be the subject of vicious debate. What does matter is that the child had been left on the doorstep of Number Four with little more than a baby blanket and a letter on a night that promises rain. That matters a lot, and it is unforgivable.

Chapter Text

What should have been a mere twenty-minute trip into the southern part of London turns out to be nearly double that, if not more, and it ends up with him in Central London. He had hailed a cab within a few minutes of leaving Surrey because staying out in the rain, while fine for just him, is not good for little Harry Potter. Thankfully the child is completely dry when he checks on him in the backseat of the cab and sleeping soundly.

"The closest hotel, please," Kyrios requests, just as the cabby starts driving. There is a good deal of hotels all throughout London, but he needs to get indoors as soon as possible so that he can tend to the bleeding scar on Harry's forehead. It is only when they pass by the first couple of hotels that he saw does he start to get irritated. "Stop the car," he says in a low, dangerous tone, his eyes flashing with warning.

"I have me orders, sir, so sit tight and enjoy the ride," is all the cabby relays, his voice a bit rough.

Kyrios grits his teeth and glares daggers into the back of the man's head, who is saved due to the child's presence. "Then step on it," the vampire grits out, holding back a snarl.

The minutes tick on, leaving the ancient Greek no less pissed off that he is being spirited away without a choice in the matter. Sure, he could have gotten out of the car at a stoplight, but they have hit very few, which in hindsight seems odd. Finally, the cab stops in front of a grand looking mansion, though the plaques up on each side of the entry doors indicate that the mansion is The Milestone Hotel.

"This here's your stop, sir. No charge to you." The cabby gives him a toothy grin, and once he is out of the vehicle it pulls off and drives away into the night.

There is a nicely-uniformed man standing outside of the entry door who comes down with the umbrella that is held out over Kyrios. "Welcome to The Milestone Hotel, sir. Please come inside from the rain."

"Thanks," the vampire intones and make his way inside the hotel lobby. It is a grand place with polished marble tile floors, nice medium wood trim, and a matching polished wooden front desk. LKyrios approaches the desk, looking no worse for wear than when he had left Number Four of Privet Drive, where the manager glances at what appears to be a photograph in his hand and then up at the vampire.

"Mr. Stavros, we have been waiting for you. Your requested room is ready, sir," the manager, whose name tag has Henry engraved upon the brass plating, gives him a smile that looks rather strange.

Kyrios arches a brow in response to the man's statement, recalling having made no request on his own for a room, especially here in what is known as South Kensington in Central London. Also, how this man knows the surname he is currently using is beyond him. "My room?"

"Yes, sir. You will be residing in the Signature Suite. Your butler, Mr. Michaelis, will show you to your room and, once you and your son have settled, the rest of the hotel's facilities." If even possible that arched brow shoots up higher. A Signature Suite is costly and very large. It is more space than he needs. As for this Mr. Michaelis, the name is undeniably familiar. It is the same last name as—

"Right this way, sir." An all too familiar velvety voice addresses him from his left, and he turns to face the pale-skinned, raven-haired, and red-eyed demon that is bowing before him. There is a slight smirk on the bastard's face, one that he would love to wipe off for setting all of this up. As Sebastian Michaelis straightens up, the demon's eyes glow fuchsia for a split second while his smirk deepens slightly.

"Good evening, Michaelis," Kyrios states with a smile that feels forced, his teeth once again gritting together. He follows the butler to the lift, his gaze taking in the hotel uniform the demon has no doubt lifted from one of the employees, or even the laundry room itself. It is as pristine as everything else the demon chooses to wear, and it even has its own pair of white gloves that the demon seems fond of. "What is the meaning of this?" he hisses out once they are enclosed in the lift and it is on its way up to the suite that takes over an entire floor.

"My lord was in need of suitable accommodations to raise his new ward. The hotel was not my idea, unfortunately." Sebastian gives his usual smarmy smile, the one that always makes the ancient Greek want to give him a right hook to the face.

"What do you mean, not your idea? And just how much will this cost me?" Kyrios' voice raises at this point and the bundled up child in his arms squirms a bit, quickly drawing his attention off of the demon and to the boy. "Shh… I'm sorry, little one," he soothes in a much softer tone.

"I cannot reveal the nature of who contacted me, my lord, and this jaunt costs you nothing. You now own the hotel." Sebastian looks at Harry with a bit of interest, blinking slightly before a grin replaces the smirk. "So this is who all the fuss is about."

The lift stops and the doors open before Kyrios can say anything to Sebastian, though the vampire sees fit to glare at the demon's back. He doesn't want to believe that he now owns the hotel they are going to be staying in, but Sebastian has never lied to him. "I'm beginning to wonder if I ever should have drawn up a contract with you in the first place. At least it's not like your usual contracts, demon."

"Oh, now don't say that, my lord. You make things interesting for me, and the sustenance I get far exceeds that of the souls I used to eat." Even the ones he carefully molded to suit his tastes. The last soul he had eaten belonged to a bratty Earl nearly seventy years in the ground. "You are the best master I've ever had. Not even that Phantomhive brat could compare to you."

'I would hope not," Kyrios mutters. He had been born and had grown up in a completely different time, compared to even then. It had been far more savage, barbaric, and downright brutal.

"Welcome to your suite, my lord," Sebastian states with a bow as he opens up the door leading into the Royal Kensington Suite.

Upon entry into the suite, he first notices just how big it is. Two floors! Two whole floors! The next thing he notices is an array of shopping bags on the couch and settee, all from Harrods. Last is the occupant of one of the plush armchairs. It is a stout little creature with large, pointed ears, a rather big nose, a menacing smile, and a pair of beady little eyes.

"Come have a seat, Mr. Stavros, and everything will be explained to you," the creature, a goblin by the name of Ragnok, motions for him to sit down. He has a very pleased expression on his face as he eyes the vampire and the child he held.

In the Morning

At nine sharp, one Albus Dumbledore strides into the lobby of Gringotts Wizarding Bank as if he owns it. He is dressed in purple robes that have silver stars stitched into them, matching purple high-heeled boots with pointed toes, and a deep purple cloak. It is unusual to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looking so pleased and superior. Then again, in light of recent rumors that are quickly spreading like wildfire across a bone-dry forest in the middle of summer, Albus Dumbledore has every reason to look as he does, for lack of better taste in clothes.

Regardless of the fact that the self-styled Lord known as Voldemort, a name which every witch and wizard seems to fear, with the exception of Dumbledore, is now dead, said happy Headmaster only boded ill for Gringotts. Ragnok, the King of the Goblin Nation and General Manager for the British Branch of Gringotts, himself comes out to greet the aging wizard. Greet is a term that the Goblins only use loosely. Very much so.

"How may I help you today, Headmaster?" Ragnok nearly spits the question out, his gaze furious as he levels it on the self-proclaimed Leader of Light.

"If we could adjourn to your offices, there is much we need to discuss and see to," Dumbledore states with a distinct lack of formality in regards to the King of the Goblin Nation. His tone is rather condescending, on top of it, and his blue eyes twinkle in the way that Ragnok hates whenever he deals with the Headmaster.

"Right this way, Headmaster," Ragnok grits out, and swiftly turns to lead Albus Dumbledore to his public offices. The man has never set foot in his private offices, and he'd be damned if he lets the man do so now. Those offices are reserved for very special clientele only, of which the Headmaster is not.

Once they reach Ragnok's public offices the Headmaster has the gall to conjure up a squashy purple armchair and sit in it, his hands steepled on his lap. "I am sealing the Potter Will," he begins immediately.

Seal the- Seal the Potter Will?! "On whose authority?" Ragnok quickly sneers out, a dangerous gleam to his eyes.

"Mine, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Minister Bagnold has given me permission to do so." Dumbledore smiles to himself, his blue gaze now steely as he dares the Goblin to deny his demand.

Ragnok inwardly fumes and has no choice but to acquiesce for now. "It shall be done, Headmaster." Just because it is sealed, for now, it doesn't mean that the Potter Heir won't be unable to unseal it himself once he eventually arrives at Gringotts. That is less than ten years away.

"Also, as Harry Potter's guardian, I will need his Vault Keys." This particular request is what stops Ragnok cold, and he can only stare at Dumbledore with unbridled rage.

"I cannot honor such a request, Headmaster. The Potters explicitly stated that his vault keys are to remain with the General Manager of Gringotts British Branch until he comes to us at age eleven." He says after a long moment. Ragnok levels a nasty smile at the Headmaster, only for it to dissipate at the thunderous look that forms on the old wizard's face.

"I am his guardian in the Magical and Muggle world, and I will be taking his vault keys with me when I leave this bank." Albus actually stands up from his armchair and draws a rather peculiar looking wand that he points at the Goblin.

Every fiber of Ragnok's being screams at him to cower and hide at the sight of this strange wand, which emanates a power that is more fearsome than Dumbledore's own. The power carries the whispers of an assured death, especially if he does not comply with the wizard's demands.

"So be it," Ragnok whispers harshly, and unlocks a drawer at the bottom right side of his desk. He gently extracts the Potter Vault Keys and grudgingly hands them over to Dumbledore.

The wand quickly vanishes back into the depths of the man's robes and he leaves Ragnok's public office with a spring in his step. The King of the Goblin Nation can only watch as he starts for the tellers before the door swings shut.

In the Evening

He is on an oh so important mission. It isn't so much a mission that has been given to him, but one that he has taken upon himself. He is all too much aware of his master's whims, one of which has been to stopover in Southern England for a rest. Instead of resting, however, his master had witnessed a rather peculiar thing. It was a cat.

Oh, how he loves cats. Their soft, luscious fur. Those bright and intelligent eyes. The velvety pads of their feet. It had taken everything within him to not give away his position to his master nor to the cat who is actually a magical person. He can only fathom what is going on, and lo and behold when he has been beckoned by a rather curious little creature with a very sharp spear that has pretty much appeared from nowhere, does he follow.

"You are the demon known as Sebastian Michaelis?" Ragnok questions once the demon is seated in a hard-backed chair in front of the desk in his private offices. His countenance is dark, in light of his earlier dealings with Albus Dumbledore, his sharp teeth bared threateningly.

Sebastian grins in return, his red eyes glowing fuchsia for a long moment as he takes in the Goblin. "I am he."

"You are well known from the time you served as a butler to one Earl Ciel Phantomhive, Guard Dog of Her Majesty the Queen of England." Ragnok sneers a little disdainfully, pushing a deep red file across the desktop towards Sebastian.

The demon merely glances at it then back to the Goblin. "He was my former master, yes. I am now serving my current master, whom I was watching over at Privet Drive."

Ragnok looks a little interested at this, for there had been no other save for Professor McGonagall who had been noted to be in the vicinity at the time. Well, disregarding the Muggles. "Really now? Your master is at Privet Drive?"

Sebastian cocks his head to one side and blinks languidly. "Yes, he is."

"At this very moment?" Ragnok pushes, knowing full well who resides at Privet Drive and what their relation is to a certain young savior of the British Wizarding World.

"He is." Sebastian stares at the Goblin, his expression blank.

"Who is your master, exactly?" Ragnok looks eager now, a spark of hope forming in him. Just maybe… This can be a way to foil Dumbledore and his plans.

"The Lord of the Night," Sebastian intones and just as he expects, the Goblin pales beyond measure, his mouth dropping open in shock.

"L-lord of the Night?!" There are legends of this man, this enigma, but Ragnok has never expected… Can scarcely believe…

"Yes. Kyrios is the Lord of the Night. The first human to become a vampire." Sebastian's tone is a bit gleeful as the Goblin seems to absorb this information and sputters a little more.

"Vampire, you say?" This can't work out. British wizards and witches look down on non-humans.

"Of the day-walking variety," Sebastian adds for good measure.

"That is-"

"Unheard of? I assure you, my master can walk in the sunlight, eat and drink as you or any other person can, and has more than enough power and wealth at his disposal." This seems to give the Goblin a little more hope back in his expression.

"Yes, yes. We can make that work. His non-human status doesn't need to be revealed," Ragnok murmurs conspiratorially. A thought comes to him and he gives Sebastian a sharp glance. "How much wealth does your master have?"

Sebastian looks a bit thoughtful at the question and quickly adds up the fortune his master has acquired over his long lifetime. "Let's see, he's had nearly four thousand years, more or less, to acquire his fortune. The majority of his wealth is in multiple human banks across the world, acquiring interest, so you do the math."

This is almost too much for Ragnok to process. Almost. With that much wealth, why, the supposed Lord of the Night easily outmatches all of the Great Britain wizarding families put together. He will be the wealthiest client that Gringotts bank will ever have, to date, and possibly for the longest time. They only need to fudge a bit on their documentation, and with how stupid the Ministry of Magic for Great Britain seems to be, they can pull it off.

"Your master is at the home of the relatives to one Harry Potter, the survivor of a terrible attack that left the Dark Lord known as Voldemort either dead or unable to do much of anything now. Unfortunately, due to the enchantments placed on the Potter's Last Will and Testament, I am unable to discuss anything relating to it, aside from letting it be known that it is not up for discussion." Ragnok makes a nasty expression with this statement before a decidedly calculating look replaces it. "Yes… This will work. It has to work."

"You do realize that whatever you are intending to do hinges on my master's willingness to take in an abandoned child," Sebastian estimates, and quickly realizes that he had struck gold. "He has been a father, twice over, and would not suffer a child to be abandoned to an abusive household." Of this, the demon is quite sure. "That family is unsuited to raise any child, let alone their own." He had seen the awful display that morning, of the obese child kicking his mother while screaming for sweets.

"You are positive that he would take the child in as his own?" Ragnok examines the demon carefully as if looking for him to lie.

"He would indeed."

The Goblin snaps his fingers and several others rush into Ragnok's private office with parchments, quills, and inkwells. There is a flurry of activity, in which the monarch barks out orders and they are followed, to the letter. Sebastian watches all of this with an amused smile, providing input as needed.

Within record speed, Ragnok has a form for the adoption of one Harry James Potter, official-looking documents denoting one Kyrios Stavros as the head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Stavros from Greece—in which several copies are sent to their Greece Branch and discreetly filed to appropriate departments—and a document requesting the transfer of all Kyrios' funds to Gringotts, which is promptly copied and handed off to several trustworthy and capable witches and wizards—employed by Gringotts, of course—to immediately take care of. Lastly, and most importantly, Ragnok gives the go-ahead for a purchase to be made of a suitable home for their newest client. "What would be a suitable place for Lord Stavros to stay at?"

"The Milestone Hotel," Sebastian says immediately, remembering the old mansion-turned-hotel with quite a fondness.

"It is decided, Lord Stavros and Scion Potter will make their home at The Milestone Hotel." Ragnok fills out the very last form and sends it off for the bank to purchase in lieu of the new Lord Stavros. Consider it a gift for giving me a chance to throw Albus Dumbledore off his game, the Goblin thinks viciously, a victorious smile on his face. "Now, if you wouldn't mind doing me a favor, demon Michaelis."

At Midnight

Albus Dumbledore has experienced quite a wonderful day. Everything is going according to his will and plans, and nothing can stop him. Once he had dropped the Potter child off at his Aunt's home he had made his rounds to the celebrations and feasts that were taking place. After he had tired of that he had called for Fawkes to come to take him back to Hogwarts. The phoenix isn't answering his summons, however, so he ends up having to apparate to the gates of the school.

He must be off having a celebration of his own, Albus thinks with a slight shrug. He doesn't mind it so much, as nothing can dampen his mood. Entering through the gates, he begins to stroll up to the castle, admiring the view of Hogwarts backlit by moonlight. Thankfully it isn't going to rain up here in Scotland.

The stroll is relatively short, rather he is letting his thoughts wander and so isn't paying any mind to how long the walk is, and he quickly finds himself within the castle proper and on his way up to his office. Reaching the stone gargoyle that guards the entrance to his personal quarters and office, he fails to notice that it looks somewhat newer. Cleaner even.

"Ice mice." Albus gives the password and smiles as the stone figure moves aside, revealing the spiral staircase that leads up into his quarters. He ascends the steps and immediately glances over at Fawkes' empty perch. The phoenix definitely must be out celebrating. Albus gives a small chuckle and stops to admire his shelf containing numerous monitoring devices, most of which are keyed to Harry Potter. All appear to be in working order, so he makes his way over to his desk.

He sits down in his favorite squashy purple armchair behind the desk and sighs as he takes in the various stacks of folders and parchments that require his signature. They deal with the school's budget, the daily running of the school, the curriculum, and various other things. Now is a better time than ever, especially since he is in such a good mood, to take care of them. They are a little overdue, what with the war and all, and the ministry will start clamoring for them to be filed soon.

Picking up the first stack of parchments, and plucking his self-inking quill made from one of Fawkes' feather from its holder, he begins to meticulously sign his name to each parchment. He doesn't bother to read over them, there is no need to, so as each parchment magically files itself he fails to notice a particularly special one within that exact stack that will eventually bring about his ruin.

At Midnight: The Royal Kensington Suite

Kyrios stares at the Goblin known as Ragnok, quite dumbfounded with everything that has been meticulously explained to him, mouth slightly agape. The Goblin eyes his teeth, which are as blunt as any human's, his expression curious.

"Do you understand what it is you have taken upon yourself by swearing to protect Scion Potter with your life and power?" Ragnok questions, his countenance quickly turning serious.

"That my life is forfeit should I fail to protect him." Kyrios knows perfectly well that such vows are not made lightly, and everything that the Goblin has told him only makes him that much more protective.

"Thankfully you will have help in that regard." Ragnok produces a very thick folder and quill. He also motions towards a doorway and another Goblin wearing white robes comes in. "Please let our Healer tend to Scion Potter while you sign these."

Kyrios lets his gaze go to the Healer who keeps a respectable distance from him, his scrutinizing gaze making the Goblin cower a bit. "Please check his scar," he states after a long moment. "It is still bleeding."

"Of course, Lord Stavros." The Healer carefully takes Harry from the vampire and carries him over to the settee, which has been cleared off by Sebastian—along with the couch—once Ragnok had bid the vampire to sit.

Both Kyrios and Ragnok watch the Healer briefly before the vampire turns his attention to the offered folder of documents. He takes it and the quill, and begins to read through the parchments before signing his name to any of them.

After ten minutes of nothing but the scratching of a quill on parchment, a cry comes from the direction of the Healer and Harry. The documents are immediately dropped as both vampire and Goblin monarch leaves their seats to hurry over to the settee.

Ragnok pulls the Healer side just as a vaporous black cloud oozes from the scar on Harry's forehead. Kyrios, meanwhile, picks Harry up and cradles him to his chest while the cloud screams before vanishing. Big fat tears are coming from Harry's stunningly green eyes, his cries having quickly quieted with the leaving of whatever had been in the scar.

"What was that?" Kyrios turns to the two Goblins, his expression deadly.

"T-that was—" The Healer begins to stammer out a response but is unable to do so, his fear becoming increasingly evident.

"That, Lord Stavros, was a product of one of the darkest of magics known to wizarding kind. That was a Horcrux," Ragnok grinds out, eyes still on the spot where the black cloud had been.

"A what?" Kyrios looks baffled by the term.

"A Horcrux is a fragment of a person's soul, which has to be split by committing murder and is then placed into a container so that the person cannot die. It essentially makes the person immortal," Ragnok explains in a whisper. This is bad news, because if Voldemort has made Horcruxes then he is most definitely not dead. Vanquished, but not dead.

"So Voldemort, whom I'm assuming that soul fragment belonged to, is not dead?" Kyrios tentatively questions, his gaze now focused on a sniffling Harry and the miraculously healed and almost completely gone scar on his forehead.

"That is if he made more than one, and I would assume that he did so." Ragnok sighs and dismisses the Healer.

Just as the Goblin Healer leaves a parchment appears in a flash over the coffee table between the couch and the chair that Ragnok had previously been seated in. The Goblin monarch quickly goes back over to the coffee table and snatches the parchment out of the air. He reads over it and a partial smile forms on his face. "Good, good. This is good news," Ragnok murmurs. He turns to Kyrios and holds it out.

The Greek vampire sits back down on the couch, Harry on his lap and staring around the room, and takes the parchment with his free hand. Appearing at his side, with the folder of documents back in order, is Sebastian, who exchanges the folder for the young boy. Kyrios murmurs his thanks and reads over the newest parchment, a brow raising as what he is reading sinks in. "I'm his official guardian now?"

"Once you sign that parchment, yes." Ragnok has resumed staring at the spot over the settee, his expression carefully calculating.

"And signed it will be," Kyrios responds, filling out the form and watching as it magically doubles and both copies vanish. He picks the folder back up and quickly scans over it to see if he has missed anything, signing wherever his name is needed.

"There is one more thing to be taken care of," Ragnok muses, rubbing at his chin. "You would say that Scion Potter defeated Voldemort, yes?"

Kyrios pauses and looks up at the Goblin monarch, his quill hovering over the last line he needs to sign. "From what I am to understand, yes, Harry defeated Voldemort." He glances back down at the final parchment, signs his name, and closes the folder. Both the quill and folder are returned to Ragnok, who takes them with a grin.

"Thank you very much, Lord Stavros. Scion Potter, by right of conquest—and when he is age eleven—will be able to claim any titles and fortunes that the being known as Voldemort has, just so you are aware." This is said with a vicious grin, the Goblin tucking the folder under his arm protectively. "We will have a trusted contact within the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement get in touch with you soon. Preferably when you and Scion Potter are settled."

"And who will this contact be, if you don't mind my asking?" Kyrios stands up and glances around the lounge, wondering where Sebastian has gotten to with Harry. A sweet trilling fills the suite, along with the happy laughter of a child.

"Madam Amelia Bones, the new head of the DMLE. I hope you will call Great Britain your origin of domicile for a long, long time, Lord Stavros," Ragnok informs before taking his leave, a truly happy and scary smile on his face.

Chapter Text

Once Ragnok leaves in whatever mysterious way it is that had gotten him here, Kyrios leaves the lounge—one of two—and goes upstairs to the bedroom area to see what Sebastian and little Harry have gotten up to. The sweet trilling of some sort of bird has paused and there comes another fit of laughter from the child, piquing the vampire's curiosity. The sight that meets him is absolutely unexpected.

There is a large scarlet and gold plumed bird sitting atop Sebastian Michaelis' head, and it is picking up locks of the demon's hair with its beak and tugging on them. No doubt the demon is making an irritated face, but this also has the effect of making Harry laugh and clap his little hands together. The child is sitting up in the center of a crib—which has been set up by the demon himself—and it looks as though he has been groomed and put into a fresh set of clothes.

Harry stops in his applause and laughter over the bird's antics, his stunning emerald green eyes going to Kyrios. The child seems to observe him for a long moment then gives a happy babble and holds out his arms.

"You would think that he would be wary of strangers," Kyrios murmurs as he approaches the crib and lifts the toddler out of it. There hasn't been much of a chance for Harry to observe him once he had woken up due to the Healer removing that vile fragment of soul that had latched on to the boy. He had been more preoccupied with the room, and well, it seems like Harry is a good judge of character.

"He is very observant, and bright. Curious for one his age." Sebastian is attempting to remove the exotic looking bird from its chosen perch on his head, but it is to no avail.

"What species of bird is that, Michaelis?" Kyrios asks, eying the bird as he carries Harry over to the bed that he himself will be sleeping in, eventually, and sits down on its edge.

"This would be a phoenix, my lord. He came with me from Albus Dumbledore's quarters in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." This comment receives an arched brow from the vampire, a clear sign that Sebastian needs to elaborate on why he had gone to Hogwarts. "I was asked by the Goblin Ragnok to deliver something to Dumbledore…"

Earlier: Late Evening

His mission has been made clear. He is to infiltrate Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to plant the papers that will make Albus Dumbledore give up his self-granted guardianship over one Harry James Potter. The Goblin King Ragnok had laid things out very clearly for him, the information network the Goblins had simply astounding. Sebastian isn't sure how things are set up, but the Goblins truly have magic of their own and they use it to their fullest advantage under the current laws the British Wizarding Ministry has.

Getting to the castle has been relatively easy, the gates silently swinging open to admit him to the grounds, which is rather curious. Does someone know he is here? It is impossible.

Taking in the sight of the rather grand, but sad castle, Sebastian makes a noise of disapproval. It can do with a good cleaning over and the wards are mediocre at best. A school full of children and this is the best protection they have to offer? He can sense all of the delectable souls harbored within Hogwarts' walls, but he dares to not touch them. His master offers much better sustenance for him with his energies and powers.

Feeling like he is being led somewhere rather specific, Sebastian finds the corridors deserted of most lifeforms, save for a rather foul non-magical man who is limping around with a kitten tucked into the pocket of his tattered jacket. The demon longe to have a look at the kitten, much like he had with the magical person in the form of a cat back at Privet Drive, but he resists and soon finds himself before a gargoyle statue.

"Open," Sebastian commands, somehow knowing that the access to the quarters he needs to get into is behind the gargoyle. When it refuses to move he lets his eyes flash red before they begin to glow pink. His form becomes shrouded in darkness while he impatiently taps a stiletto-heeled boot on the ground. "I will have no problems crumbling you into pebbles before reassembling you as you were," he growls out, breaking off a stone ear and turning it into dust.

The gargoyle finally shakes and moves aside, to which Sebastian pats the stone entity and restores its ear, his powers making the entire thing as good as new and even cleaning it up a bit. "Good gargoyle," Sebastian says in a sickeningly sweet tone before finally making his way up the spiral staircase that have appeared.

As soon as he enters the Headmaster's quarters, he is assaulted by a scarlet and gold thing that gives a shrill cry. He bats it away, only for it to catch itself in the air and fly over to a storage shelf full of curious looking silver items. Sebastian blinks and first examined the thing, a magnificent bird—a phoenix of all creatures—before he lets his gaze go to the shelves upon shelves of funny little devices.

All of them hold a bit of magic in them, the essence of several different magical beings scattered throughout them. There is one that sticks out though, one that the Goblins have made him familiar with. "Oh, what have we here?" The Headmaster has certainly been up to no good.

Sebastian carefully and painstakingly recreates each of the items tied to the Potter child, and fabricates the essence that is to go into each of the items. Once he is finished he pockets all of the originals and lets his attention go back to the phoenix. It regards him with one of its bright amber eyes before it takes off from the top of the storage shelf and wings further into the office where it alights upon a cloak rack of some sort.

The phoenix bends down and pecks at nothing, or what is supposed to be nothing. There is a ripple of something and Sebastian walks over to examine the newest thing the bird is choosing to show to him. He reaches out and grasps something that feels rather fluid, the material shimmering and silvery as he pulls it from the cloak rack. "An invisibility cloak?" How curious. The demon pockets this as well then turns his attention to the desk now.

"I daresay, the Headmaster certainly has a bit of work to catch up on." He eyes the stacks and stacks of parchments and files dubiously before carefully choosing a stack to slip the form he has in among the papers. "That's everything I came here for," Sebastian comments and turns to leave.

The phoenix gives out a sudden cry, drawing the demon's attention to it in time for the bird to land on top of his head and in a swirl of harmless flames they are gone, vanishing out of Albus Dumbledore's quarters.

Present Time

"And that was how the phoenix came to be here, my lord," Sebastian finishes, his expression neutral as the bird once again pulls on a lock of his hair.

"Fascinating, and you still have this cloak you mentioned, and the devices that were attuned to Harry?" Kyrios' mind is whirling. The devices are most likely to monitor Harry, while the cloak… He doesn't know what the connection there is.

"Apparently the cloak belonged to James Potter, and as such it was put back into the Potter's main vault until the young master can claim his inheritance. The Goblins keep excellent records. As for the devices, it was suggested that we present them to Madam Bones so that we may have a more concrete case to build against the Headmaster." Sebastian motions to a box that Kyrios hadn't immediately noticed, located on top of the dresser. It is a lockbox, which the demon holds the key to, and within it are the monitoring devices.

Kyrios will need to speak to Amelia Bones as soon as possible, but he also wants to speak to Professor McGonagall. It won't hurt to speak to the other Professors at Hogwarts, if only to get a read on them to see where they stand, and it will help him understand what he will be needing to prepare Harry for. "When it is an appropriate time, please contact Madam Bones and request a meeting at her earliest convenience. I would also like to meet with a Professor McGonagall and her colleagues, save for the Headmaster," he clarifies, having no desire to see Dumbledore while the urge to attack the man is still so strong within him. "I am also in need of the school's curriculum, so if that is available, then get a copy of it for me." There is something he is forgetting. The giant man, Hagrid, had mentioned someone else. "Also, find out who Sirius Black is and what his connection to this entire mess is."

Sebastian bows, which finally causes the phoenix to fly off of his head, and murmurs, "As you wish, my lord." With his orders given the demon turns and leaves the bedroom, but not before giving the phoenix a victorious smirk.

Said phoenix ignores the demon, instead choosing to turn its attention to the vampire and the child. Fawkes is an incredibly smart bird, and he has known that Dumbledore has been slipping. When the demon had come to the Headmaster's quarters with that document, he had known that it was time for him to leave, but not without taking Dumbledore's toys and the cloak that had belonged to Harry's father. Trilling out a few sweet notes, the phoenix lands on the bed beside the ancient vampire.

"I am going to assume you are highly intelligent and will not insult you by asking redundant questions. Your choice in leaving your…master has been made abundantly clear." Kyrios observes the phoenix, not knowing what to call it, or if it even has a gender. "Do you have a gender?" The question is answered by the bob of its head, to which the vampire gives it an amused look. "Then, knowing that male birds usually have the more colorful of plumages, though this might not pertain to magical creatures such as yourself, would I be correct in assuming you are male?"

Fawkes gives another bob of his head and trills a few more notes. He closes his eyes and rubs his head against the vampire's arm. A warmth passes through both phoenix and vampire, with the bird passing along some of his magic to Kyrios.

"It's a pity you can't talk," Kyrios murmurs, marveling at what has just happened. First there had been the thing when he had sworn to protect Harry, and now it seems like the phoenix is bonding to him, or something.

"You need a name, and I rather not use the one your former master gave to you. How about Ewan?"

The phoenix gives a pause and seems to be think on the name before finally giving another bob of his head. Fawkes, now Ewan, sings a few happy notes then takes off from the bed. He flies over to the railing and perches there, drawing a happy babble from Harry who is contentedly sitting on Kyrios' lap.

"Well, little Harry. I don't see you going back to sleep for a while, so why don't we go down and see if you'd like something to eat?" Kyrios takes Harry into his arms and brings him downstairs into the main lounge. He finds the mini-bar area, and a counter where some fresh fruit is set out, put under a sort of stasis by the demonic entity contracted to him. There are also some jars of baby food that the demon had picked up, neatly stacked up along the backside of the counter. Kyrios picks up the bowl of fresh fruit instead, carrying both it and Harry over to the sofa.

Instead of sitting on the sofa, he moves it aside with a knee and sits down on the floor between it and the coffee table, Harry once again on his lap. The bowl is placed on the floor in front of them and the vampire picks up a piece of melon, honey dew, which he holds up for the child to take.

Harry stares at the piece of fruit for a few seconds then grabs it with a chubby hand. He shoves half of it into his mouth and begins eating the melon. Juice dribbles down his chin, which the vampire wipes away with his thumb. Once the melon is finished Harry reaches for the bowl of fruit himself and picks up a chunk of strawberry.

Kyrios sits back and watches with a smile as the toddler begins to demolish the bowl of fruit. He is faintly aware of soft footfalls, signifying Sebastian's return. "That was quick," he muses, gaze flicking over to the demon as he enters through the main door to the room.

"I see you've started to make a mess of things, and I was only gone for ten minutes," Sebastian chides. He trades the sheaf of papers in his hands for some napkins, leaving them in Kyrios' plain sight so the vampire will know to look at them when he has the time. "Would you like anything for yourself, my lord?" he asks as he hands over the napkins.

"A blend would do just fine, Michaelis. I'll look at everything you've brought for me when Harry goes back to sleep." And then he will finally get some rest for himself. Keeping a watchful eye on the toddler, he accepts the glass of dark red liquid that Sebastian brings to him a few minutes later. "Thank you, Michaelis. You may go and do as you wish for now."

Sebastian pauses briefly at this, for he has never been given such a direct order to do as he wishes. Before, with Kyrios, it was all unspoken. "May I acquire a cat, my lord?" This draws an odd look from the vampire as he sips at his glass of blood mixed with the juice from several tangerines.

"A cat, Michaelis?" Kyrios looks thoughtful, his gaze on the child that is halfway through the bowl of fruits and making a right mess. "You may get one, Michaelis, and no more than that. If you are going to keep it here, you might as well get one of the magical breeds, should there be any, and make sure it is seen by a veterinarian."

"Yes, my lord." Sebastian gives a smile and bows, his crimson eyes glinting. He has never been allowed to have a feline before, though circumstances after his former master's demise hadn't allowed for him to have one either. Constantly moving about, that isn't ideal for having a cat much less any other type of animal. "Thank you." He gives the vampire and child a glance over, Harry still quite messy and eating, before taking his leave to go and peruse the felines that will be available for purchase once the shop have opened.

"Of course he would want a cat," Kyrios says sotto voce, swirling the blood around in the glass before he takes a sip of it. A thought suddenly occurs to him, of Sebastian's intimate knowledge in souls, which has him wanting to hit himself. "I should have asked him about that soul fragment and the Horcrux thing that Ragnok had mentioned," he muses aloud. If anyone will know of Horcruxes then it will be Sebastian. Well, he can always ask the demon once he returns with the cat he has apparently always wanted. Giving a sigh, he refocuses his attention on Harry right as he overturns the fruit bowl.

In the Early Morning

The shops of Diagon Alley are finally open as witches and wizards alike trickle into the streets. Some look a bit hungover, as though they'd forgotten how to perform their magical remedies or they just don't care. Celebrations have still been going on, and most certainly here in the Alley, in which he has studiously avoided. He'd sat there throughout the night in front of the Magical Menagerie, eying the crates that line the walls through the windows of the shop.

"Good mornin' to ya," the shopkeeper greets, giving the demon a once over before he bustles over to the door and unlocks it.

Sebastian is on his feet in a flash and on the shopkeeper's heels as he enters the pet store, eagerly zeroing in on the wall of crates that hold the various types of felines. Mostly sleepy pairs of eyes stare out at him while he meticulously observes each cat.

"Are ya lookin' to buy a cat, a cat-kneazle mix or a pure kneazle?" The shopkeeper asks tentatively. They have very few kneazles for sale, given their XXX classification by the Ministry of Magic due to their aggression towards specific types of individuals. His gaze goes to the caged kneazles, most of which are warily watching Sebastian. One in particular though, his newest acquired kneazle, is ignoring the demon.

"All of them look so lovely," Sebastian cooes, walking past the various cages until he come across the new kneazle. His interest piques when the creature doesn't budge, his eyes blinking slowly as he takes in the small form. "What is this one here?"

"O-oh. That one's a pure kneazle. Has a nasty temper, that one," the shopkeeper nervously titters, hoping to turn his customer's interests elsewhere.

The kneazle in question is kitten aged and has stunning dark blue-black fur in a shade that reminds him of his former master's hair color. When it turns its head to finally glance at the demon, he sees that it has brilliant sapphire eyes that are quickly narrowed. The little blue-black kneazle kitten hisses at the sight of the demon, its fur standing on end while it scoots to the back of the cage.

Sebastian blinks again before a smile slowly spreads across his face, his eyes glinting. "I'll take this one," he says, quite happily, and reaches up to open the cage. This little creature strongly reminded him of his former master, which if he hadn't eaten his soul himself, Sebastian could have sworn that Ciel has reincarnated into the cat-like beast.

With the cage open the blue-black kneazle shoots out of the cage and launches himself at the demon, his claws out. It is quickly caught up by the scruff of its neck, where it yowls and spits while it tries to twist around and claw at the demon's hand.

"S-s-sir! I'm afraid I can't sell that kneazle to you," the shopkeeper stammers out, actually ducking behind the counter now that the thing is loose from its cage. He doesn't trust that it will stay in Sebastian's grasp for long.

"Nonsense," Sebastian all but chirps, and carries the angry kneazle over to the counter. "I will need a bed, some toys and a carrier, if you will." The demon smiles sinisterly as he produces a pouch of wizarding money. "How much do I owe you?"

In the Morning: Royal Kensington Suite

Kyrios awakens to the most unholiest of screams and quickly rolls out of bed. He immediately drops into a defensive crouch, his hand curled as though it expects a Xiphos to be in it before it flexes and opens a little in a manner reminiscent of the tiger fighting style. A sleepy Ewan, still perched on the railing overlooking the lounge below them, peers at him momentarily then tucks his head back under his wing. A quick glance in Harry's crib shows that the tot hasn't been disturbed by whatever has given the scream.

"Come now, Bocchan, you are in need of a bath," comes Sebastian's voice from the lounge below.

The vampire blinks then straightens up and approaches the railing to look down into the lounge. Sebastian is there, kneeling in front of a carrier and attempting to pull a blue-black fuzzy thing from the depths of it. There comes a loud yowl this time, which has Kyrios glancing at Harry again to see if the child stirs. The child shifts slightly in his sleep, but thankfully sleeps on. With a sigh he descends to the lounge to see what the fuss is about with Sebastian's newly acquired pet.

"Ah, sorry for disturbing your slumber, my lord. Bocchan is being a little unreasonable," Sebastian says a little too merrily while he finally gets the creature out from its carrier. He holds it around its middle, which gives it ample opportunity to sink its teeth into one of his hands. "Such a feisty little thing."

Kyrios gives the demon and his pet an incredulous look, as well as taking note in the choice of name that Sebastian uses. He decides not to question it or Sebastian's reasoning for it, and instead fixes the thing with a piercing stare. The kneazle, when it finally looks his way, stills and lets go of the hand holding it. "I don't care what your issue is with Michaelis, cat, but you will not attack me, the child sleeping upstairs, the phoenix or any guest I may have."

The kneazle, Bocchan, lays its ears flat against its head while its tail curls up between its legs at the implied threat given to him by the thing that it can sense is dangerous. He mewls weakly in way of acknowledgement and looks away from the vampire.

"Now that we are in an accord… Michaelis, what do you know of the Horcrux thing?" Kyrios moves and sits on the couch, an arm slung across the back of it while he yawns.

Sebastian sets his subdued kneazle on the floor, only for Bocchan to bolt off and hide somewhere that will normally be difficult for a person to get an animal out from under, and turns his attention to the vampire. "Like Ragnok said, a Horcrux is made to keep a person from dying. I imagine that Voldemort is little more than a wraith right now, and rather weak. The magical traces on Harry imply as much. As for the fragment of soul that had lodged into his scar, that was not enough to make a Horcrux out of the child, despite what Ragnok said, otherwise it would have been much more difficult to remove and keep him alive in the end."

Kyrios sits up and twists around to stare at Sebastian at this information, his eyes widening slightly before flashing while his expression morphs into one of fury. "That man-" he begins, near shouting, before clamping his mouth shut upon the realization that raising his voice will do no good right now. "Dumbledore intended for that… that thing to remain in Harry!" he hisses out, the tips of his canines a tad bit sharper despite his attempt to reign in his anger. "Was he planning for him to sacrifice himself?" he questions in a low, deadly tone.

Sebastian keeps his face rather neutral, though he delights in his master's anger. It is rare to see such a display, as the vampire usually has such iron clad control. With Harry Potter now in his care, this control is likely to slip whenever Kyrios comes to the boy's defense. "Had you not intervened, my lord, then it is most likely what would have been destined for little Harry when he grew up."

Kyrios silently fumes for a moment, wisely keeping his mouth shut otherwise he would have yelled and woken the sleeping child up. Once he is sufficiently calmed, he exhales noisily and sinks down into plush cushions of the couch. "Is there anything else you could tell me, like how many of those things Voldemort made?" he spits out, his hazel eyes darker than they have been in centuries.

"The soul fragment was rather small, and quite deteriorated. If I were to make an educated guess, I would say at least more than three. I wouldn't put it past more than five, however, otherwise that fragment would have been far smaller." It is such a waste, doing that to a soul. It will never again be fit for consumption, at least not to his standards. He won't even think of eating a soul from a person like Voldemort anyways.

"So as few as three or as many as five. Lovely," Kyrios mutters and lets his head fall back on the couch. They will need to be hunted down and destroyed, if they want to be rid of Voldemort. There is no doubt that the dark wizard will come after Harry in the future. Whatever had supposedly driven him to go after little Harry the other night is likely still in effect. "Damn magic," he says sotto voce, staring up at the ceiling and letting his gaze follow the patterns there.

"That matter aside, my lord, I've taken care to visit Madam Bones and set up an appointment to meet with her later this afternoon. The Hogwarts Professors will see you this coming Saturday, and I feel that I must warn you that a Professor Severus Snape seemed a bit reluctant." Sebastian withdraws a folder from the inside of his jacket and rounds the couch to hand it to Kyrios. "This is the curriculum, with all changes that have been made to it since the start of the school under what is called the Founders. As for one Mr. Sirius Black, he is the named godfather to young master Potter."

Kyrios lifts his head up and takes the folder from Sebastian while he blinks at the news that Harry has a godfather. This must have been one of those things that Ragnok hadn't been able to reveal due to the enchantments placed on the Potters' Will. "Why wasn't he given Harry?" It is a question more to himself than to Sebastian.

"Dumbledore most likely blocked it," Sebastian answers succinctly.

"Go and locate this Sirius Black. Bring him here if you can." Kyrios is trying to fit Black into place in all of this. He had been there at the Potter home to try and claim Harry, no doubt, otherwise Hagrid would have never shown up on his motorcycle at Privet Drive. Harry should have been given to Black then, but Dumbledore had interfered.

Sebastian's face notably falls at this command, but he bows nonetheless and murmurs a, "Yes, my lord." He turns and leaves to go in search of Sirius Black. His Bocchan will have to wait, unfortunately, but at least he has already set up everything necessary for the kneazle to eat, drink or use the litter-box as needed.

In the Afternoon

Brushing up on long dead parenting skills, especially when things are so drastically different now, is a chore in and of itself. Madam Bones is due to arrive any moment now and Harry is crying rather uncontrollably. He can't figure out for the life of him what is wrong. He'd been fed not too long ago, he'd been given a bath, a fresh diaper—which had been an interesting endeavor for him to learn—and he doesn't want to play. Poring through the parenting books is of little help.

Kyrios barely hears the soft knock on the entry door of the suite, and with a muttered prayer that it be Sebastian—though the demon has no need of knocking—he walks over and opens the door. Instead of the tall, raven-haired demon a rather tired looking, dark-haired woman with a child of her own on her hip stands at the door. "Madam Bones?"

"Lord Stavros, I presume?" She gives a tired and somewhat teary smile in way of greeting as she hefts the little girl a little higher up on her hip. "I apologize for bringing my niece along, but there wasn't a sitter available and I'm the only family she has left."

"No, no. No apologies. Please, come in." He moves aside to let the witch enter and switches the arm holding Harry. "He's been crying nonstop for about twenty minutes. I can't figure out what's causing it, but he's been fed, bathed and is wearing a fresh diaper."

Amelia studies Harry and after a moment lets her wand drop down into her hand from the wrist holster she keeps it secured in. "I believe he is of the age to be teething." With a quick swish of her wand she silently conjures up a teething ring. Another swish has the object properly chilled and hovering over to the vampire and his ward.

"Teething?" Kyrios blinks and absently plucks the chilled teething ring from the air. He holds it up for Harry, who quiets his fussing just a little and grabs for the enchanted item. As the toddler promptly sticks it in his mouth, his fussing dies away entirely and he gives a muffled coo as it soothes the ache from having teeth come in. "Thank you, Madam Bones."

"Please, call me Amelia, and it was no trouble Lord Stavros." Amelia gives another smile, this one less teary.

"Then please call me Kyrios, Amelia. Please, have a seat." Kyrios bids the witch over to the couch and armchairs before following her to take a seat of his own. "Might I inquire about your niece's name?"

"Susan. She's been with me for a week now," Amelia settles onto the couch and sets little Susan down on the carpeted floor to play with the toys that are already out, where Harry soon joins the little girl. "And that must be Harry Potter. Ragnok has informed me of a good deal about your situation, Kyrios. I must say that I am quite surprised that you would take in an orphan, but that is not as surprising as your…nature." She watches the man for any sort of reaction, her gaze sharp despite her apparent fatigue from caring for her orphaned niece. "Not that I have anything against one such as yourself."

Kyrios keep his expression neutral, though his body does become rather rigid at the knowledge that someone else knows of his being a vampire. "I trust that you will not disclose that to the general populace. I understand any non-human entities have to deal with a lot of hostility here in Great Britain, something that I normally do not tolerate or deal with." He hasn't had to deal with that type of hostility for a long while, at least not from anyone outside of his own kind and the Jesuit Order.

"It is not my intention to anger you, Lord Stavros, and I certainly have no intention of letting anyone who does not need to know of your status and nature know." Amelia transforms rather quickly from tired mother figure to the sharp-witted and objective Department of Magical Law Enforcement head that she is, her posture absolutely perfect. "Regardless of you being a vampire, Kyrios, your adoption of Harry Potter cannot be questioned without anyone going through me. I am here to ensure that it remains so. While the majority of the wizarding populace may never accept you, even without the knowledge of you being a vampire, as Harry's guardian, they will not be able to take him away from you. We are going to make this as airtight as possible."

His growing anger and wariness abates as Amelia's words soothe him. "Not even Dumbledore?" Kyrios watches her expression carefully, noting the way one of her eyebrows shoot up while her lips thin considerably.

"Not even Dumbledore with all of his influence would be able to take Harry away from you." Amelia almost looks offended by the thought that she will let the Headmaster, as brilliant as he had been throughout the years, stick his nose in where it doesn't belong. "As far as I am concerned, Albus Dumbledore has no business in deciding who should raise Harry. He has far too much on his plate to be concerning himself with the life of a little boy."

"Yet it seems that he has taken an interest in Harry, going so far as to abandon him on the doorstep of his non-magical relatives, who were absolutely horrid by the way, with naught but a blanket and a letter with a forecast of rain for the night." Kyrios interlocks the fingers of both hands and props his elbows onto his knees as he leans forward in his seat, his gaze locked on Amelia's.

"H-he wha-" A loud bang that resonates throughout the suite cuts Amelia's response off and both the witch and vampire are quick to rise to their feet. Amelia's wand is in her hand, in a white-knuckled grip, while Kyrios flexes his hands and curls his fingers slightly.

"Where's Harry?!" A panicked voice that Kyrios is unfamiliar with asks as a black-haired man with dark circles under his eyes and dressed in black robes strides into the room. He looks around frantically, his gaze landing on Amelia first. "Amelia?"

"Sirius?" Amelia's tone is laced with surprise and shock, her grip on her wand relaxing minutely before a look of anger crosses her face. She opens her mouth, likely to ask a rather important question, when a happy babble from Harry, who recognizes Sirius' voice, makes everyone pause.

"Pa'foo'," the toddler calls out, abandoning his teething ring and the toys he had been playing with to start crawling in the direction of Sirius' voice.

Kyrios himself relaxes and walks over to pick Harry up just as Sebastian appears behind Sirius, the demon looking rather nonplussed. "Why don't you come sit down, Mr. Black?" The vampire waves his free hand towards the couch that Amelia had been seated at, the witch still looking rather angry. "And Sebastian can fix us some tea."

Sirius' gaze flicks to Kyrios, though it fixates on Harry in the man's arms, before he mumbles something incoherent and walks over to the couch. "C-can I hold him, please?" He asks once he is seated, a note of pleading in his voice while his gaze remains on the squirming toddler in the vampire's arms.

"I have nothing against Harry's godfather holding him." Kyrios gives Amelia a somewhat pointed look before he carefully transfers the toddler to Sirius Black's arms. The look of happiness and relief that immediately spreads over the man's face tells the vampire everything needs to know. Whatever role Sirius has in all this, he truly cares for Harry Potter.

"Thank you, sir," Sirius says as he gently hugs Harry who immediately grabs for his hair. Tears fill his eyes as he gazes upon the toddler, his shoulders trembling. "I… I'm so sorry, Prongslet."

Kyrios and Amelia both look a little baffled in the choice of nickname that Sirius has given Harry, the witch unsteadily sitting down while the vampire returns to his armchair. "Sirius, what were you doing there at the Potters' home?" He aske first, before Amelia can fire off the question that seems to be burning on the tip of her tongue. She has calmed a little at Sirius' interaction and reaction to Harry, but the apology to the toddler has her looking angry once more.

"I knew when I didn't find Peter in his safe house that something was wrong," Sirius begins as way of explanation, anger inflecting in his tone at the mention of Peter.

"Who is Peter?" Kyrios interrupts as a look of recognition filters over Amelia's face, followed by realization, shock, sorrow and anger.

"That filthy traitorous rat was supposed to be our best friend," Sirius nearly spits out, anger twisting his face into something dark. "I thought I had been so clever, to switch with him as Secret Keeper for James and Lily, because I was the obvious choice." His tone hardens and grows bitter while Amelia stifles a sob and pulls out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes. Sirius' gaze snaps to her and a thoughtful expression replaces his anger. "You need to act quickly, Amelia. I was tracking him down before I was…brought here. He's an unregistered Animagus. A chubby grey rat."

Amelia looks shocked at this while Kyrios looks more than a little perplexed. Quick as a flash the Head of the DMLE is up and moving around the couch, completely forgetting her niece Susan as she makes for the door. "Oh!" she exclaims as she touched the door handle, turning back once she remembers her niece. "Oh goodness me."

"Madam Bones… Amelia. I would happily watch Susan for you, if you trust me to, while you go and take care of this important matter. Our discussion can wait, and I'm sure Harry would love to have someone to play with for a while." Kyrios glances towards the little girl, who is still happily playing with the toys, then returns his attention to Amelia.

"Would you?" She hates to impose upon him, and it certainly isn't a matter of trusting the vampire with her niece. This is truly important and absolutely can not wait.

"I would, now please go." Kyrios watches as the witch leaves with an uttered thank you, then lets his gaze go to Sirius Black. He notes the way the wizard holds Harry, as if he is something fragile, and smiles faintly. "Mr. Black, Sirius… My name is Kyrios Stavros. I'm not sure if you're aware, but I've adopted Harry. Regardless of my status as his legal guardian, I have an offer I would like to make to you."

In the Evening

Amelia returns to the Royal Kensington Suite, more tired and worn out than before, but feeling rather accomplished. She had quickly set the Auror Division after Peter Pettigrew, with the news that he is an unregistered Animagus in the form of a rat, and also has the information broadcasted on the Wizarding Wireless. This of course has the Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold, asking to meet with her. That had taken some time, and a good deal of energy, to put to sorts.

"Madam Bones," Kyrios greets softly, almost appearing out of thin air in front of the witch. "They've gone down for the night, I'm afraid. If you want, I can go get Susan for you."

Amelia has a hand over her heart at the vampire's sudden appearance then lets out a sigh and shakes her head tiredly. "No, no. I'm so sorry for imposing upon you, Kyrios. I'll go fetch her myself."

"It wasn't any trouble at all, Amelia. She's upstairs in the crib with Harry. Sirius is up there as well." Kyrios gives a bemused smile and leads the way up to the bedroom that they are using.

She wonders slightly at the smile but follows the vampire upstairs. Instead of Sirius being present, there is a great big black dog stretched out across the floor by the crib. She stops and stares, the pieces clicking into place while a look of shock forms on her face. "Sirius Black!" she whispers out harshly, causing the dog to raise his head and look her way.

"We have the paperwork for his Animagus form filled out, along with the fine he is to pay for not registering. It was a recent thing, and in light of the war your society just experienced…" Kyrios explains softly—fibbing just a tiny bit—while Sirius, otherwise known as Padfoot in this form, drops his head back down to the floor and gives her large, pleading eyes.

"I'll let it go just this once, Auror Black. I expect that paperwork to be filed tomorrow, and for you to be back to work in three weeks' time." Amelia gives them both an exasperated glare then bustles over to the crib, taking care to not step on Padfoot, so she can collect Susan and be on her way. Once the sleeping girl is carefully taken from the crib, she turns to face Kyrios, an apologetic frown on her face. "I'm sorry we weren't able to finish. I'll take care of everything, so don't worry. Once the documents are ready for you to sign I'll bring them by."

"I'll be looking forward to that then, Madam Bones, and please feel free to bring Susan by whenever you like." Kyrios gives the witch a smile and leads her back downstairs where her diaper bag for Susan is packed and waiting. "Harry enjoyed her company."

Amelia looks a little taken aback at the offer of bringing her niece over here, her surprise more than apparent, for the vampire gives a soft laugh. "Thank you for your generous offer, Lord Stavros. I'll be sure to take you up on it."

"And if you know of anyone else whom I should introduce myself to that has children Harry's age… I would greatly appreciate it." Kyrios gives a genuine smile and walks Amelia out of the suite, and accompanies her down to the lobby.

"Absolutely. I'll send out some letters. I wouldn't expect very many responses any time soon, but I will make the effort." Amelia gives Kyrios a smile of her own, now back to her tired mother figure, before she leaves the Milestone Hotel with her niece.

Kyrios waits in the lobby until he can't sense her anymore before heading back upstairs. Back in the suite he calls for Ewan, the phoenix appearing in a swirl of flames on his shoulder. "I have a request, Ewan. If you could take this letter to a Remus Lupin for me, I would very much appreciate it." He pulls a letter out from his jeans pocket, with Sirius Black's messy scrawl spanning the envelope, and holds it out for the phoenix to take. Ewan takes it without hesitation and disappears in the same swirl of flames, off to find one Remus Lupin.

Chapter Text

In the Evening: November 2 nd

Fawkes had appeared so suddenly that Remus Lupin had been badly startled, to the point that he had crushed the thick mug of hot chocolate he'd been drinking. He pulls the slivers of thick ceramic from his skin and drops them into the trash, his thoughts pulling between the mess he had inadvertently made to why Fawkes is suddenly here. Remus quickly washes his hands off, ignoring the sting of his new, slowly healing wounds, then turns his attention to the phoenix. The mess of hot chocolate and shards of ceramic can wait while he sees to what he assumes Dumbledore wants. "Hello there, Fawkes."

The phoenix stares at him with unblinking amber eyes and tilts his gorgeously plumed head to one side. After a moment he holds out an envelope for Remus to take. It is thin, and the werewolf takes it, blinking almost incredulously at the familiar messy scrawl on the outside. Emotions surge through him, anger first and foremost, and he is nearly tempted to throw it into the fire in his hearth without even glancing at it.

Fawkes had brought it to him, though, so Dumbledore must have his reasons. Giving a weary sigh he carefully slices the envelope open and pulls a single piece of parchment from within it. He hesitates for only a second before he unfolds the parchment and lets his gaze slide over the words there. He nearly drops the parchment on the first sentence, his grip tightening slightly enough to crinkle the page.

Remus,

It was Peter. He betrayed them. James and Lily are now dead because of him. They're dead, Moony, but Harry is safe. He's with me and… I can't explain this over a letter, Moony. Would you please come? Ewan can bring you to us.

Padfoot

He crumples the short letter once he finishes reading it, his thoughts swirling frantically. James and Lily are dead. Peter has betrayed them. James and Lily are dead. It is Peter's fault. Harry is still alive. Peter had betrayed them all. James and Lily are dead. Harry is safe. Ewan can take him… Ewan?

Remus goes completely still, from his thoughts to the unconscious pacing, and looks at the phoenix. He smells exactly as he remembers Fawkes to smell. He even looks the same. "Fawkes, is your name Ewan now?"

The phoenix trills merrily and quickly alights upon Remus' shoulder. Nudging the werewolf on the cheek, Ewan trills some more.

What on earth is going on? "Take me to Sirius and Harry, please." Without even waiting a beat, he is swirled away in Ewan's flashy flames, the puddle of hot chocolate and ceramic shards forgotten.

They appear in the lounge of an incredibly spacious and luxurious room, right in front of a man that has the hairs all over his body standing on end. The wolf in him snarls at the unknown threat, and he quickly pulls his wand out.

The stranger doesn't flinch, only stares at him with cold hazel eyes. "You had best put your wand away." His tone is clipped, and Remus can read the obvious threat of pain in this stranger's posture. "I have allowed you here in my home, wolf."

Remus stiffens at how this stranger addresses him, his throat going dry while fear starts to edge in. He is vaguely aware of a rush of feet coming down some stairs, and then he is barreled into by a large, black dog. He drops his wand out of shock, while he hits the floor pretty hard himself as one Sirius Black assaults his face with a dog's tongue.

"Sirius! Stop! Stop, I give!" He tries his best to push Padfoot off, but it is to no avail.

The stranger has the gall to chuckle at them and moves to pick up Remus' dropped wand. It is placed up on an end table, within Remus' sight, and then the stranger moves closer to them. "Sirius, let him up."

Sirius surprisingly follows the order and once he gets off of Remus he returns to his human form. "Sorry 'bout that, Moony, but it was the only way to get your wand off of you."

Remus sits up, wiping the dog slobber from his face, and gives Sirius a nonplussed look. "I was going to put it down, Sirius."

"That is debatable, since you seemed to have been reacting to my presence. Your inner wolf saw me as a threat." The stranger's expression seems to warm up some, or he at least doesn't seem as threatening as before. "You can sense what I am, and your reaction was perfectly natural."

What he is? Remus blinks and stares up at the stranger, who looks perfectly normal to him. Looks are deceiving, however, and his scent states that he is most certainly not human. "You're… A vampire?" He glances over at Sirius, who doesn't look surprised at this information at all. Just what is going on?

"A vampire, yes. Just not the garden variety kind. I'm special, and there are only a handful of special vampires like myself in the world. We don't play well with each other, and I don't really like the lesser types either. They cause problems for me." The stranger holds out a hand for Remus to take as he is still on the floor.

Remus hesitantly takes the man's hand, which feels quite warm for a vampire. It is almost like he is still alive. Standing up, he studies the vampire carefully, who seems quite at ease with having a werewolf around. "So…"

"Oh, pardon me. My name is Kyrios Stavros. I have invited you here on Sirius' behalf, and I am Harry Potter's primary legal guardian." The vampire, Kyrios, says it so casually that Remus has to run the words through his head a second time. Kyrios, a vampire, is Harry's primary guardian? "Padfoot?"

"Yes, Moony?" Sirius cocks his head to one side as Remus addresses him, looking perfectly alright with everything that is going on.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?"

At Midnight

It takes several hours, many cups of delicious hot chocolate and a magical straight jacket to convey everything that had happened to Remus. The werewolf had been none too pleased to find out that Dumbledore had intended to abandon little Harry Potter on the stoop of Lily's sister, and had gotten up to head for the fireplace. Kyrios hadn't thought anything on it, but apparently Sirius knew better and thus the reason for the magical straight jacket.

"Oh, believe me, Remus. I would love to tear the old man to pieces, but I am going to make him suffer. A lot. His entire world will crumble around him and he won't be able to do a damn thing about it." Kyrios gives a near saccharine smile with his announcement, which seems to calm Remus considerably. "I am enlisting yours and Sirius' help to bring him to ruin. We also have Amelia Bones and Ragnok, the King of the Goblins, on our side."

"What about the…" Remus blanches, unable to bring up the subject of Voldemort and the Horcruxes.

"Sebastian will be working on that." Kyrios knows that the demon is capable of hunting down the soul shards and whatever container they are likely to be in. It will simply take time, so there is no telling if it will be months or years before Voldemort is truly gone. As long as the Dark Lord doesn't regain a body…

"That aside, Kyrios here has been reading up on the curriculum for Hogwarts, and even I was astonished to find that a lot of classes we had taken aren't even up there anymore." Sirius holds out the folder for the Hogwarts curriculum, which Remus takess. "And a rather... useless class was added just this past year."

Remus frowns and flips through the folder. His amber gaze scans the contents and his frown quickly deepens. "This is… You can't prepare children for the real world like this. A lot of this is outdated too. And Latin is gone?"

"Aren't your spells done in Latin?" Kyrios raises a brow, though the question is quite redundant. "I was also wondering why there isn't a magical primary school."

"Well, Purebloods have their children tutored in their primary years," Sirius cuts in, knowing all too well what Pureblood life is like.

"And the children from mixed or non-magical families?" Kyrios' expression is one of concern, because surely there are children of mixed parentage, or even ones that come from a non-magical background.

"Most children from mixed families are not so lucky. The ones from mu-non magical families aren't even aware of their magic until they receive their Hogwarts letter." Remus' explanation is succinct enough, at which Kyrios outright scowls.

"That is unacceptable. There should be a magical primary school so that the children, all of them, can begin to understand, if not grasp, their developing magical powers. It would most certainly help to teach them all Latin in their primary years, as well as other useful skills that will help them when they reach Hogwarts." Kyrios slumps in his armchair and stares at the coffee table between the three of them. "What is it? A lack of funding? No one to teach the children? No teaching materials?"

"If I had to caution a guess, it is probably because no one ever really thought about it." Sirius himself starts to frown. "Most Purebloods only care about pushing forward their own agenda. Children born to non-magicals are often ignored, even if they have really good ideas. Those of mixed parentage tend to just keep their heads down and try to get the best jobs they can. Truthfully, the Purebloods are the ones who decide everything for Wizarding Britain. Whether through bribes or bullying, they're the ones who have the most say."

"This is so ass backwards..." Kyrios gives a drawn out sigh and rubs at his temples. "So, if by some miracle we get the approval to build a magical primary school, what would it take to get this thing going?"

"Well, first things first. Where will the school be located?" Remus produces a pad of paper and a self-inking quill, and has the quill tip hovering over the paper.

"That would depend on where the students will be coming from. If they will be coming from all over Great Britain then a centralized location would be best. North Yorkshire, specifically the Richmondshire district." He knows that Hogwarts is located in Scotland, which makes little sense to him. "We would need to get a land grant and building permits, and make the area…"

"We would want the school to be unplottable, as well as make it so that non magicals cannot see or go near it. The school will also need to be warded." Remus starts to jot down notes on his pad of paper, a look of faint concentration settling onto his scarred face.

"We will want top of the line wards, Moony." Sirius picks up a fresh mug of hot chocolate and sips at the dark liquid. "Do you know how many children might be attending the school?"

"I wouldn't know. Is there some sort of device that can track the birth of every magical person?" It is likely how Hogwarts finds out about their future students.

"I believe there is. We would need to request permission to access the magical birth archives." Remus grimaces, because that will certainly be hard information to get. "How will the children be getting to school? And will they be staying at the school for the entire school year?"

"I don't think children that young would be able to handle staying away from their homes and parents like that. Would a daily drop off and pick up work?" Kyrios frowns, unsure of what to say in this case.

"We could do daily drop offs and pick-ups for the First Years. Second Years and up would stay through the week and return home each weekend." Remus makes notations for how they will handle the comings and goings of the children, his amber gaze flicking up to meet Kyrios' and then Sirius' eyes. "Staff members should be appointed to collecting the children, so no untoward characters get onto the property."

"That much I can agree on," Kyrios mutters, his thoughts drifting to Albus Dumbledore. "Only staff members and the enrolled students should be allowed on campus. Visitors will need to fill out an application and verify who they are by blood before being allowed on the premises with an escort. They cannot go unaccompanied, even if they were to be the Queen of this country."

Sirius blinks, a bit befuddled by the Queen comment, then leans over to ask Remus, "We have a Queen?"

"Non-magical monarchy. She and a select few, including the non-magical Prime Minister are aware of our existence. It would be through Her Highness that we are to request a land grant." Remus nudges Sirius aside and resumes his note taking.

"That reminds me. I see there is a Muggle Studies course available, and it is optional at Hogwarts, while there are no classes on Magical Culture and Etiquette. Magical and Non-Magical Culture classes will be mandatory starting with our Second Years and all the way up, and should be combined with History. We should also consider teaching basic mathematics to the students. Physical fitness should be mandatory for all years, as well as Latin." Kyrios pauses there and flips through the folder with the Hogwarts curriculum once more. "Teaching Potions to the students at such a young age would likely be rather unadvisable. Instead, we could maybe have a class on recognizing potion ingredients and how to handle the safer ones for years Four and Five. We could also combine that with Herbology for the same years. Care of Magical Creatures should be another mandatory course, but there aren't many safe creatures to teach about. That should probably be a Fourth and Fifth Year class only. We won't be teaching them magic, so Transfiguration, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts Hogwarts only classes. As for Divination…"

"Divination is a load of rubbish. We never had a Divination class, and from what I understand is that you need to be born with the Sight." Sirius sets down his now empty mug and gets up to pace. "From what Lily and James told me, there was supposed to be a prophecy some crackpot made that concerned You-Know-Who and Harry. They never told me what it was, just that there was something."

"There's a prophecy, Padfoot?" This seems to news to Remus, who sets down his quill and notepad to get up and confront Sirius. "Why didn't any of you say something to me?"

"Moony…" A pained look flits over Sirius' countenance and he quickly looks away from his last living best friend. "I'm sorry, Moony, but we weren't sure…"

"You weren't sure of what?! That you could trust me?! After everything we've been through, after everything all of you did for me! You didn't know if you could trust me?!" Remus' voice begins to rise, and it isn't any surprise to Kyrios that Harry wakes up with a cry. This has both friends halting in their tracks while the vampire gets up and goes upstairs to tend to Harry. A look of defeat comes over Remus and he drops down onto the couch, his head in his hands.

Within a minute Kyrios returns with Harry, bright eyed and still a little fussy. The vampire shoots both of them a cross look then sits down with Harry in the armchair. "Go sort out your issues elsewhere, if you must," Kyrios all but hisses with a flash of fangs.

Harry, on the other hand, has other ideas and as soon as he sees Remus he holds his arms out for the werewolf. "Mooey! Mooey!"

Remus startles at the mispronounced moniker that comes from Harry's lips and looks up to stare at the child with misty amber eyes. He doesn't move, at which Kyrios gives a seemingly suffering sigh and gets up once more to bring Harry over.

"He wants his Mooey, obviously," the vampire teases, at which Sirius snickers.

Remus cautiously takes Harry into his arms and stares at the child in wonder. He doesn't dare move when the fifteen-month-old reaches up and pats his cheek, an adorable frown marring his face.

"Mooey sad." Harry continues to pat Remus' cheek, which brings a tearful smile to the werewolf's face.

"No, Harry. Mooey is very happy right now." Well, it isn't a total lie. He is happy that Harry wants to comfort him, and he can't help the tears that slide down his cheeks.

In the Morning: November 3 rd

They hadn't gotten anymore done once Harry had woken up, and stayed up for several more hours. The child had clung to Remus, and Sirius, in that time, before acquiescing to go back upstairs with Kyrios when he was starting to get sleepy once more. They called it a night then, Remus taking the second bedroom area while Sirius resumed his Grim form and went to sleep on the floor in front of Harry's crib.

Morning comes all too soon for the adults, but Harry is positively excited and bouncing in his crib when Kyrios wakes. Careful not to wake the snoozing Sirius, he picks Harry up and carries him downstairs, once diapers and clothes are changed, to find Remus seated on the couch with the notepad from last night and a cup of coffee steaming away on the table.

"I ended up with a rather oddly colored Kneazle kitten in my bed this morning," Remus says without looking up from his notes. There is a slight crease in his forehead and he is mouthing something to himself after a few seconds.

"That would be Bocchan. He is Sebastian's, for all intents and purposes." Kyrios balances Harry on his hip while he retrieves some baby food and a feeding spoon from the little kitchen area. When he turns around he automatically gives a slight shake of his head as a highchair appears from nowhere.

"Bocchan?" Remus sets down the notepad while a perplexed expression crosses his face as he glances at Kyrios to see what the vampire is doing.

"It was a nickname to a human that he was contracted to some time ago. Apparently the Kneazle reminded him of that human, so he named it Bocchan." Why he just didn't outwardly name the creature Ciel is beyond him. The Kneazle certainly has Ciel's attitude. "The human was called Ciel." And as if he had been called, the Kneazle kitten appears, mewing as he twines around Kyrios' feet. "Of course."

Remus frowns as he observes the Kneazle, then gets up to help Kyrios with Harry. "Did he just come when you said…"

"Ciel? Yes, I believe he did." Gratefully handing Harry over to Remus, Kyrios bends down and picks up the kitten with a frown. "Not frightened of the big bad vampire anymore, Bocchan? Or do you prefer Ciel?"

The Kneazle stares up at him, then pats a paw against the hand that held him twice.

"I'll be damned," Kyrios mutters, setting the Kneazle down onto the floor. "Oh, this is hilarious." He gives a slight chuckle and twists open the container of baby food still in his possession. It is promptly passed over to Remus, along with the feeding spoon.

"So, that is Ciel? Why would it be hilarious?" Remus looks a bit perplexed again and begins to feed Harry his food.

"Because Sebastian ate his soul when it was time for the little Earl to die." Kyrios shoos the Kneazle kitten away, knowing that he will have to discuss the matter with Sebastian once the demon returns. "Or so he claims."

"I did eat Ciel Phantomhive's soul, and it was quite delicious," Sebastian utters as he suddenly appears, a few letters and a newspaper in his hands.

Remus nearly drops Harry's feeding spoon, at which the child grabs it from his slackened grip and starts to feed himself, albeit messily.

"Michaelis, please do not scare my guests like that," Kyrios chides as he takes the letters and paper. "Don't worry, Remus, he doesn't eat souls while under my employ. Instead, he receives my energy in exchange for his services, and my energy is quite limitless." He looks the letters over first, noting the unfamiliar names of Longbottom and Weasley, as well as a letter from Amelia and Ragnok. He sets the letters aside for the moment and turns his attention to the newspaper. "Daily Prophet?"

"Oh, that's the magical newspaper for Great Britain," Remus explains as he tried to wrestle the feeding spoon away from Harry. The child starts to fuss once it is out of his grasp so the werewolf relents and lets Harry continue to feed himself. "They're likely still running articles on Harry."

Kyrios frowns and unfolds the paper, the headline definitely not about Harry. "Four Death Eaters Caught Breaking into the Longbottom Home!" He reads the headline aloud, which draws a sharp gasp from Remus. Behind them there is a strangled sort of noise, coming from Sirius who had just woken up and made his way down the stairs.

"Frank and Alice were attacked?!" Sirius rushes over to look at the paper, his hand trembling as he reaches for it.

Kyrios scans the accompanying article and gives a shake of his head. "They had been Fire-Calling Amelia when the break-in occurred. It says they Flooed to Amelia's once they realized what was going on." These are terms that Kyrios is largely unfamiliar with, so he looks to Sirius and Remus for answers.

"Who were the Death Eaters?" Sirius asks hastily, utter relief in his and Remus' expressions.

Kyrios scowls slightly but looks back over the article for the names of the Death Eaters. "Barty Crouch Jr., Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange and one Bellatrix Lestrange." He glances up just in time to catch the spark of anger in Sirius' eyes, and then the man storms out of the Suite. "What?"

"Bellatrix is his cousin," Remus explains gently, sending a worried glance after Sirius. "He just needs to cool his head for a bit, then he'll be back. He won't leave Harry."

Kyrios blinks a little then nods. He understands the situation clearly, so he isn't going to press the issue. "What is Fire-Calling and this Floo thing?"

"Fire-Calling is actually a variation of Flooing. Flooing is when you take a specially formulated powder and throw it into the flames of a hearth that is connected to the Floo Network. You call out your destination as you do so, then step through the flames. It can be a tricky business though, traveling by Floo. If you mispronounce your destination there is no telling where you'll end up. Fire-Calling is where you only put your head through the flames after you've announced who you want to talk to and where they should be at." Remus finally looks back at Harry and grimaces, the child's face and the front of his clothes covered in baby food.

"Someone certainly needs a bath." Kyrios grins and moves to help Remus with Harry.

Chapter Text

In the Morning: November 3rd

Sebastian knows that it was a bad idea to let his master and the werewolf attempt to bathe the child, but seeing as his master has every intention of being the one to take care of little Harry's needs then he will acquiesce his usual control over such daily activities. Kyrios is not Ciel, and for that he is rather grateful. Still, the vampire hadn't cared for a child since his own two sons had been children, and he sincerely doubts that the werewolf has ever had the chance to help out with Harry's care, let alone another child's. So he sighs and looks down at the blue-black kneazle kitten with a frown. After a moment of silently studying Bocchan he allows his attention to drift elsewhere. Like towards the bathroom occupied by his master, the werewolf and the child.

A shriek of laughter bounces off of the walls followed by the distinct sound of splashing. No doubt little Harry is having fun with his bath. He is almost certain that a mess is being made. With a heavy sigh he pinches the bridge of his nose and waves a hand towards the high chair, his special brand of magic leaving the structure spotless and nearly gleaming with how clean it is. Then he all but stalks into the bathroom, his face set into an impassive mask as he takes in the sight that he had known would be waiting for him.

Kyrios, his wet hair askance and plastered to the smoothly shaved right side of his head, holds a happily squealing Harry in place in the shallow water of the bathtub while Remus, who is equally wet, attempts to wash the child splashing water on the both of them. A puddle is gathering where they kneel, soaking in to what little else is dry on their bodies.

"As well placed as your intentions are, my Lord, you are making quite a mess of things." Honestly, this is no better than when his former master had attempted things for himself.

"Is it troubling you, Michaelis?" Kyrios asks, his tone low and containing the barest trace of that edge to it that sends shivers through his chosen form. "Life is messy and imperfect, something I have not forgotten in my years as a No-Life King."

"Of course, my Lord. You are correct." It is that imperfection that makes the human soul that much more appetizing, and as much as his misses the taste of souls… they are now off limits to him. The vampire had been crafty when he had made his contract with the demon, and had even overpowered the mark that should have remained visible on his throat.

"You are, of course, correct as well, Michaelis, but do not forget your place again." The vampire lifts the now clean child out of the tub, at which the werewolf, who had remained silent during their exchange, gathers Harry up from Kyrios' arms in the large, fluffy towel that had been readied. "If you wouldn't mind taking Harry upstairs and dressing him, Remus."

"Absolutely, Kyrios." Remus looks between the two of them with a faint frown as he stands with the towel-swaddled Harry in his arms. He doesn't spare them another glance as he leaves the bathroom, though the uncertainty in his scent is apparent enough as he shuts the door behind him in an effort to give them some privacy.

There is a tangible shift in the atmosphere once they are completely alone, and his disguise ripples slightly as Kyrios finally looks his way. It completely falls away, the butler's outfit giving way to the skintight leather pants, stiletto-heeled boots and the sleeveless form-fitting top of his true form. He is vaguely aware of his own shift, his gaze caught on the mark that is laid bare and glowing on his master's throat.

"Surely you haven't forgotten what your contract seal looks like, Sebastian." Kyrios' tone is teasing now as he moves with a speed that gives the impression of the vampire teleporting, much too fast for the human eye to comprehend. They stand eye to eye, and he can clearly see his own glowing fuchsia irises reflected in the darkening hazel of his master's eyes. "Cat got your tongue, demon?"

Sebastian shivers at the intonation of the question, his mouth going oddly dry as he dumbly stares at the powerful creature mere inches from him. He swallows, the cottony feel remaining, and watches as amusement flits over Kyrios' face.

"I should have done this sooner," the vampire murmurs and curls his fingers under Sebastian's chin, his thumb delicately pressing into the skin beneath his lower lip. He leans in and claims the demon's mouth with a gentle kiss.

Sebastian's wings tremble, the dark feathers rustling with the tiny movement, as he yields to the vampire when the kiss becomes more insistent. He gasps softly at the sharp nip to his lips and can faintly taste his own blood as Kyrios' tongue sweeps into his mouth. There is a slight, almost unnoticeable difference in how the vampire tastes. Minuscule as the difference is, it becomes much more obvious when Kyrios begins to give him his energy. It is almost like a taste of what he can only describe as heaven, and if he had any iota of shame he would have been embarrassed by the throaty moan that leaves him. As it is, he grasps Kyrios' shoulders, ignoring the still wet material of the shirt he wears, and fervently kisses back.

There is a fleeting glimpse of shock in Kyrios' eyes, to which Sebastian tightens the hold he has on the vampire's shoulders and nearly digs his claws into shirt and skin. Thankfully Kyrios doesn't pull away, instead his hands coming to rest on the demon's leather-clad hips to pull him closer. After a long moment he halts the flow of energy and breaks off the kiss, looking a bit dazed and like he wants nothing more than to keep going. "I'm not sure what brought that on," he starts, his fingers tightening minutely on Sebastian's hips before he finally lets go of him and takes a step back. "-but we have more pressing matters at hand that require our immediate attention."

"I understand, my Lord." Sebastian nearly cringes at how desperate he sounds to his own ears, and an unfamiliar warmth spreads through his cheeks. It takes every ounce of control he has to remain where the vampire leaves him, his hands balling at his sides with his claws digging into his palms.

"Sebastian." His name is sighed out and Kyrios uses that inhuman speed of his to refill the space he had retreated from, a slight scowl marring his face. He grasps Sebastian by both wrists and forcefully turns his palms upwards, pressing hard enough that the demon has to open his fists. "After what just happened, after what I'm sure very nearly happened, I insist that you use my given name."

"Yes…Kyrios. I…. I must apolo-"

"No. You will do no such thing." Kyrios' tone is sharp and his gaze dark, darker than before. It is not the darkness of anger, but lust, perhaps. "We will discuss this later, Sebastian." There is no room for argument, and with the conversation over the vampire deftly laps up the blood from Sebastian's palms. "Take the rest of the day off," he orders in a gentle tone as he lets go of Sebastian's wrists. He leaves him there in the bathroom, water still on the floor.

"Where shall this lead?" He stares down at his palms, for what feels like far longer than necessary, as the skin there tingles at the memory of Kyrios' tongue. "Kyrios." Well, wherever it happens to lead them, he is certain that it will be much more than a simple feeding. With a glance around the bathroom Sebastian frowns. "I simply cannot take the rest of the day off if you leave things like this," he mutters to himself as he returns the bathroom to its original pristine state. With barely a glance in the mirror to make sure his disguise is back in place he spins on his heel and returns to the living area.

Kyrios absently thumbs through the envelopes as he sits down on the couch, his mind replaying the scene from the bathroom. The demon had never reacted like that before, that much he is certain of. He had always treated the feedings as if they were a chore, so he is clueless as to why Sebastian had suddenly responded to the feeding in the way he had. Kyrios is more than certain it would have turned sexual if they had continued, and while he would not have minded he doesn't know how it will affect Sebastian, let alone himself. He pauses on Ragnok's envelope with a frown, his gaze flicking upwards.

"You're getting the upholstery wet." Sebastian gives him a disapproving scowl, irises flickering between crimson and glowing fuchsia. The rest of his disguise is unaffected, it seems. The demon waves a hand and appears to be quite satisfied with the end result as he looks Kyrios over.

"Didn't I give you the rest of the day off, Sebastian?" He'd forgotten that his shirt had been wet since temperature hardly affects him. His hair, however, is a different story and feels a bit lighter now.

"What sort of butler would I be if I took a day off because of an unexpected development." Crimson once again flickers into glowing fuchsia and stays like that as Sebastian holds his gaze, his mouth curving into that sardonic smirk.

"You are one hell of a butler, yes, I realize that." Had he thought the demon capable of it he imagines Sebastian would have pouted at having his line so brazenly stolen. Instead he merely continues to smirk and looks as though he wants to make a meal out of him. Well, that is new. No doubt a result of whatever the hell had happened in the bathroom. "Your eyes are showing through your disguise, Sebastian."

Sebastian looks taken aback for a brief second then schools his features and his eyes resume their crimson guise. "It would seem that whatever has affected you is likewise affecting my control. I will remain here."

"A wise decision," Kyrios murmurs and looks back down at the envelopes. He separates Ragnok's from the others and opens it. There is only a single sheet of vellum contained within it and a tiny golden key. On the vellum, in boldly stroked black ink read:

Lord Stavros,

This is the key to your new vault at Gringotts. Simply present it to a teller at our Great Britain Branch when you wish to conduct business with us. May your gold flow.

Ragnok
General Manager
Gringotts Great Britain Branch

"It would seem that everything is taken care of," Sebastian comments and plucks the key from his grasp. "I will hold on to this. I did make certain that you were left with a tidy sum in your mundane accounts."

"I don't want to imagine what you consider a tidy sum," Kyrios snipes as he selects Amelia's letter next. This one is made of regular parchment and had to have been written late last night. He imagines the stern witch's handwriting to be slightly more tidy than what is currently before him, if only because of how haggard she had appeared. It reads:

Lord Stavros,

I am, again, incredibly sorry that we were not able to finish. I've readied the necessary documents, just send word when you would be available to sign them and I will file them with the Ministry ASAP.

In an unofficial capacity, I've sent an owl to the Weasley family, explaining your interests in meeting them and setting up play dates for the children. I have not mentioned your son's name to them, thinking it would be best for you to do so. I'll be fire-calling the Longbottom family later, and explain as much as I am able to them as well. They went into hiding around the same time as…. Well, I dare not mention anything further in case this comes into the wrong hands.

Susan seemed to have had a wonderful time, so I would love to set up an actual play date for her and your son at a time that is agreeable with everyone.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones
Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement
Ministry of Magic

He puts the letter down on top of Ragnok's with a faintly puzzled look. He knows what fire-calling is now, thanks to Remus' explanation, but the part about where she had sent an owl to the Weasley family. Does she really have her mail delivered by an actual owl? Surely a telephone would have been faster. From what he understands, a fire-call would have been faster as well. Maybe not everyone is able to fire-call, but an owl?

"Is something the matter, Kyrios? You look troubled," Remus questions as he comes back into the living area with a dry and dressed Harry. The werewolf glances between him and the silent Sebastian, no doubt probably wondering if what he had seen in the bathroom had anything to do with Kyrios' current mood.

"It's likely trivial. Just a curiosity on my part, really. Do witches and wizards use owls as a means for communication?" Kyrios watches Remus from the corner of his eye and sees the immediate relief and faint confusion that sweeps over his face.

"Well yes, wizards and witches have their post delivered by owls. There's nothing wrong with that." Remus comes and sits down in the chair across from Kyrios, Harry on his lap and happily chewing on what appears to be the very same teething ring Amelia had conjured.

"Well, I imagine phoenixes such as Ewan are exceedingly rare, and maybe not everyone might be able to do a fire-call. Still, why isn't there a magical version of the telephone?" Kyrios picks up the two remaining envelopes and considers them both for a moment before he chooses to open the letter from the Longbottoms. He pulls out the parchment and lifts his gaze back to Remus as he waits for his answer.

"Remember when I said that most Pure-bloods only care about pushing forward their own agenda? This falls under that category. Most Pure-bloods detest anything to do with Mu-Sorry, non-magicals or anything that even remotely resembles it. Pure bloods will even go so far as to cast someone out of their own family for marrying a non-magical." Remus looks down at Harry and smiles fondly as his voice softens and quavers. "James' parents were the exception to that ideology. They didn't care that Lily was born into a non-magical family."

"They even took my sorry ass in when I ran away from my family. They'd have taken you in too, Moony," Sirius adds as he finally rejoins them, having caught the tail end of the conversation. "It's a shame they never got to meet Harry." He sits down on the settee, his expression slightly withdrawn. "Old Charlus came down with Dragon Pox and passed away. Dorea passed away a few days later."

"And Lily's parents?" Kyrios looks between the two young wizards and arches a brow when both remain silent. "You mean to tell me that out of sheer coincidence all of Harry's grandparents have died? Just how old were they?"

The questions seems to stun both wizards into silence as they realize just how odd and coincidental it is for all of Harry's grandparents to pass away at nearly the same time. In fact, Lily's parents had passed around the time James' had.

"I never really thought anything of it," Remus whispers harshly as he draws the toddler on his lap to his chest and cradles him.

Harry squirms slightly in his grasp and wriggles around until he is facing the werewolf. "Mooey sad," he declares as he pats Remus' cheeks, a scowl marring his face.

"Yes, Moony is sad, Harry," Remus confirms and attempts a smile for Harry's sake. It comes out more as a grimace and results in Harry pressing at the corners of his mouth in his own attempt to make the werewolf smile.

"Hey, pup. You know what might make Moony feel better?" Sirius gets up from the settee and walks over to where Remus and Harry are seated. He scoops the toddler up from his friend's lap and put on a practiced smile in spite of the somber discussion.

Harry squeals in surprise and lashes out with his magic, making the furniture in his immediate vicinity float. Remus tumbles from the chair with a yelp while Kyrios, who looks unperturbed, remains firmly fixed to the couch. Sebastian, who had stationed himself behind the couch, takes a few steps back and observes the scene with a mask of indifference.

"It's okay, pup," Sirius states softly in an attempt to cajole Harry into calming down. He turns the toddler in his arms to face him, letting Harry see who it is that holds him. "It's just me, pup, I didn't mean to startle you," the wizard says, speaking to Harry as though he understands what he is saying.

It is more Sirius' peaceful tone that has Harry calming down, and as a result the furniture thumps down now that it isn't being suspended in the air with magic. The child, meanwhile, stares up at his godfather with a decisive expression. "Pa'foo' bad," he declares with a pout. He squirms in Sirius' arms and reaches out for Remus, his hands opening and closing in a grabbing motion. "Mooey!"

The werewolf rises from where he had landed and regards Harry with a faintly amused smile. "Now, now, cub," he gently chides and ruffles Harry's hair, making the black tuft stick up. "Lets see what Padfoot has to suggest."

"Well, if it's okay with Kyrios, I was thinking we all go out for some fresh air. Maybe stroll around and explore a bit." Sirius directs his gaze to the vampire, ignoring how Harry still squirms in his grasp in his attempt to reach for Remus.

"You'll need to change in less noticeable attire, but I've no qualms otherwise," Kyrios says thoughtfully, a faint and amused smile curving his mouth. He raises the final two letters for them to see. "I'll read these over while you two go change into whatever Sebastian can scrounge up for you, and then we will use this outing as an opportunity to get you some appropriate mundane wear if you have none."

"Ah, yes… that would most certainly be wise. I'm familiar with non-magical clothing, so I'll help sort Sirius out," Remus offers as he finally takes Harry from the dog animagus' arms.

Sebastian regards Kyrios for a moment, his crimson eyes faintly narrowed before he smooths out his expression and turns his attention to the wizards. "This way please," the demon drawls as he leads the way to their portion of the suite.

Kyrios watches them depart before finally returning his attention to his mail and selects the letter from the Weasley family. He breaks the small wax seal and pulls a rather worn looking piece of parchment from the envelope. The writing on the parchment is faintly hurried but still rather pristine, a distinct feminine touch to the loopy style. It reads:

Lord Stavros,

Please forgive the state of the parchment this is written on, as it is a bit of all we have. My name is Molly Weasley and it is my understanding that you are looking for playmates for your son. Amelia Bones has informed me that he is a little over a year old, and I have a son that age. I also have a two-month-old girl and five older boys, however, and hope that their number isn't off-putting since I can't leave them at home. My oldest son doesn't start at Hogwarts until next year, and their father Arthur works for the Ministry so he isn't home all too often. Please send me your reply.

Sincerely ,

Molly Weasley née Prewett

Kyrios smiles faintly as he finishes the letter. There is a fleeting sense of pity for this Molly Weasley for having to mind seven children, one of which is a newborn, but he gets the feeling that she is more than happy. It might have been because her writing smooths out when she mentions her baby girl, the words written carefully and with clear pride.

Kyrios folds the letter up and tucks it back into its envelope then gets up from the couch. He walks over to writing desk where a stack of crisp, new parchment sits. He picks up the green Parker 180 fountain pen that is sitting beside the stack of parchment and uncaps it with a gentle press of his thumb. He ignores the cap as it bounces towards the end of the desk and sets the letters down to focus on penning a response to Mrs. Weasley. He writes:

Madam Weasley,

I would gladly have you and all of your children come to pay a visit. Space is not an issue and I've had my fair share of dealing with older children. I don't know how much Madam Bones has relayed to you in regards to the situation with myself and my son, other than she has not given his name, but I will be happy to answer any and all questions you may have when you and your family finally meet him. Such information is best discussed face to face, and I will require some form of discretion on your family's part. I hope that this will not dissuade you from meeting with me and my son.

Well wishes and my sincerest regards,

Kyrios Stavros

Kyrios leaves the letter laid out so the ink can dry and begins to reach for an envelope to address it to Mrs. Weasley when a knock on the suite door interrupts him. He snags up the cap to the pen and puts it back on as he goes to answer the door, wondering who it can possibly be. He recognizes Amelia holding Susan, standing front and center, but behind her is a couple with a boy of their own he doesn't recognize, as well as a plump woman that he immediately assumes to be Molly Weasley as she holds her two-month old daughter in one arm and has the hand of her youngest son in her own while the rest of her boys, the eldest three at least, dutifully stand beside her. A pair of boys, twins, are hiding behind her skirts. So that must mean that the couple with their son are Frank and Alice Longbottom.

"I'm so-"

"No, don't apologize, Amelia," he interrupts with an amused smile and ushers everyone to come in. "Please excuse the disarray of the furniture. We had a bit of a magical accident earlier." Well, not too much earlier. Sebastian will no doubt fix it as soon as they leave.

"I take it your son had a tantrum," Frank comments with a smile of his own as he and his wife follow Amelia into the suite. "I'm Frank Longbottom and this my wife Alice, and our son Neville."

"Not quite, Lord Longbottom, and I am Kyrios Stavros." He shakes hands with Frank and then Alice, then offers his hand to Molly. "Madam Weasley, it is a pleasure to meet you all and your children. Don't worry about anything getting broken. My butler will take care of it."

Molly fumbles a bit with her son's hand then lets go of it to shake Kyrios', her cheeks taking on a pink tinge. "Please, just call me Molly," she says a little nervously. She clears her throat and then begins to introduce her children. "This is my oldest son, William," she motions to the tallest and gangliest of her red-headed brood, at which the boy mumbles 'Bill' too softly for his mother to hear. "Next is Charlie, my second oldest, then it's Percy, the twins Fred and George, Ronald, and lastly is Ginerva." Bill and Charlie smile brightly and waves a little as they are introduced while Percy stands ramrod straight and the twins mischievously peer at him from behind their mother. Little Ronald clings to the front of Molly's skirts and looks up at her at the mention of his name while baby Ginerva sleeps in her mother's hold.

"Well, I'm afraid I don't have much of anything for the children to entertain themselves with. We were actually planning on going out to stroll around London for a bit and get acquainted with our new home after I had finished responding to your letters," Kyrios admits with a slight grin. "This saves me from finishing those letters and we can all go out together after I acquire a promise of your discretion in regards to my son."

"What does discretion mean?" Charlie asks, his voice brimming with curiosity.

"It means that Lord Stavros wants to tell us something that he doesn't want us to tell to someone else," Molly explains patiently.

"Like a secret?" Bill pipes up a little excitedly.

"Exactly like a secret," Sirius exclaims as he strides into the living room with Harry. Remus comes in behind him, and the pair are dressed in passable muggle clothes. Sirius himself wears a pair of dark blue jeans and a pale grey t-shirt, and has pulled his hair back into a low ponytail. Remus has chosen a pair of brown slacks and a cream button down shirt, but still manages to look somewhat disheveled. Perhaps it is the frown he wears.

"Now before anyone starts asking questions, I helped facilitate Lord Stavros' adoption of Harry Potter. It is legitimate, but he has amended the guardianship to include Sirius, since Black is Harry's godfather," Amelia explains immediately as she gives the Longbottoms and Molly a pensive look. "I leave it to Lord Stavros to explain why he chose to become Harry Potter's primary guardian."

Silence hangs between them, thick with tension and worry until Frank releases his wand from its holster strapped to his right arm and drops it into his hand. Kyrios watches the wizard with an air of curiosity and caution, but the man simply raises it up in front of him to utter, "I, Frank Longbottom, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom do hereby swear on my life and my magic that I shall not reveal any information Lord Kyrios Stavros chooses to divulges to me in regards to his guardianship of Scion Harry Potter by verbal, written or magical means until such a time that Lord Kyrios Stavros grants me release from my oath. So I will it, so mote it be." There is a rush of magic, ancient and thrumming, that swirls around Frank as he makes his vow, and it deems his vow honest and pure.

Alice is next to utter her vow, followed by Molly, and their result is the same. Up above on the railing that overlooks the living room, Ewan begins trilling out a beautiful song, one full of joy. The collective group looks up and there is an expression of awe and admiration on the faces of the adults, while the older children stare at the phoenix in amazement. The purity of the moment is broken by Sebastian joining them, at which the colorful bird wings down to perch upon the top of his head.

"Your judge of character is extremely skewed," Sebastian mutters with a touch of acid and tries to dislodge Ewan. The phoenix gives a single quavering note that sounds decidedly amused and responds by clutching at the demon's hair with his talons.

"Is that a phoenix?" Charlie asks excitedly as he and Bill go over to Sebastian to peer up at the magnificent bird.

"Yes. His name is Ewan. He came to me shortly after I decided to adopt Harry, though he seems to favor Sebastian's head." Kyrios smiles at the enthusiasm of the children, noticing that Percy is admiring the phoenix as well though he hasn't left his mother's side. "If Ewan is agreeable to it then you may pet him."

Bill and Charlie both run back over to their mother and look up at her pleadingly. "Please, mum, may we pet Ewan?" Charlie asks.

"You heard Lord Stavros. That's if Ewan lets you pet him." Molly can't help but smile at her boys' excitement and she watches as they bound away from her again. "No running, boys." Then she glances down at Percy who is torn between looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes and glances of unfettered longing towards Ewan. "Go ahead, Percy," she says warmly and watches as her son's face lights up in pure joy. She doesn't dare reprimand him for also running over to join Bill and Charlie. The twins, curious about what their older siblings are getting up to, wander over to where all the excitement is centered around, which makes Molly absently call after her oldest two. "Look after Fred and George, boys."

Ewan gives a long quavering note and glides down to the floor from Sebastian's head, then click-clacks his way across the floor towards the boys. It is a clear sign that he is okay with the children petting him, which the three older boys gladly take turns doing. They even help show Fred and George how to pet the phoenix gently, and the bird starts trilling out a soothing song.

"We can take the kids and give them a bit of playtime," Remus quietly offers to Amelia, Molly and the Longbottoms. Sirius kneels down to set Harry on the floor, the Potter Scion moving to join the majority of the Weasley boys in petting Ewan. Sirius lingers close by, so he too can guide Harry's hands and softly urges him to be gentle.

"I think that's a lovely idea," Alice gushes, having watched her own son look over to where the older boys are in wonder. She sets Neville down and gently steers him over to the boy's gathered around Ewan.

"I think I'll join you with the children," Amelia counter-offers to Remus, not only because she wants to spend a bit more time with Susan, but so it will make the Longbottoms and Molly feel more at ease knowing that there is someone they trust watching their children as opposed to near strangers. At least in Molly's case. The woman seems to relax completely at her offer, and she gladly ushers Ron to join his brothers.

"Pet birdie?" Susan asks as she squirms slightly in Amelia's grasp in an attempt to go join the gaggle of boys.

"Yes, Susan. You can pet the birdie," Amelia reassures with a smile and puts her niece down. She follows after Susan over to Ewan and the boys, and her smile widens when Charlie, who'd been helping George with petting Ewan scoots back to make room for her niece. Bill and Percy likewise move back for Neville and Ron and assist the toddlers in the same manner. It is, overall, a heartwarming sight to see such generosity and such good upbringing.

"If you'll come have a seat, I'll explain how I came to have guardianship over Harry," Kyrios softly intones, drawing Molly, Alice and Frank's attention back to him. He gives an internal sigh as he wonders at just how much to reveal to these young parents. He wants them to trust him, and trust is always built upon a foundation of truth. To hide anything might very well shatter that trust somewhere down the road. "It is a very long story."

At Noon

In the end Kyrios lays himself bare before the witches and wizard, admitting to what he is after first acquiring a promise from them that they will let him talk without interruption. In the same breath of confessing that he is a vampire he also informs them that Sirius, Remus and, most importantly, Amelia already know. It had done little to ease their sudden anxiety, but what had truly helped was the account of how he had come across Harry being dropped off on the doorstep of his muggle relatives like a bottle of milk and his subsequent actions.

"I would like to see the memories for myself," Frank announces coolly, his gaze sharp and assessing as he studies Kyrios in the silence following his tale. "I'm surprised Madam Bones and Auror Black didn't think to ask to view your memories," he adds, gaze flicking to the DMLE Head and Sirius, who are still tending to the toddlers with Remus' help while they and the older children play with a number of toys and games that Sebastian had procured.

"I am amenable to that, and it is within my abilities to let you see everything I saw." Kyrios gives Frank a genial smile and locks eyes with the Lord Longbottom. Within the blink of an eye Frank's expression goes from cool assessment to shock and awe.

"How did you do that?" He exclaims in surprise, which has Alice and Molly looking at him in confusion. His exclamation had been loud enough that it draws the attention of Sirius, Remus and Amelia.

"What's going on?" Amelia asks, concern coloring her voice. She comes over after making sure Susan is well occupied and takes a seat on the vacant settee. Her gaze goes from Kyrios, who sits in the armchair, to the trio of parents sitting on the couch.

"Frank asked to see my memories of when I found Harry, so I let him relive them," Kyrios explains as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. He looks from Amelia, who gives him an entirely perplexed expression, to the parents sitting across from him, Frank still in awe while Molly and Alice share the same expression Amelia has.

"You… You let him relive your memories?" The DMLE head queries, disbelief coloring her voice.

"How did you do that? Can you do it again?"

Kyrios frowns slightly and gives a nod. "I can do it as many times as I want. I just need to maintain eye contact and put the memories he asked for in his mind."

"I didn't even feel him do it," Frank states, sounding rather puzzled. "Legilimency is detectable to those trained in the art of Occlumency, yet I didn't feel a thing."

"Those are mind magics?" Kyrios asks, a little perplexed by the line of the conversation.

"Yes. Legilimency is the art of reading someone else's mind, usually used to detect when someone is lying, and I suppose you could plant memories like you just did with Frank, while Occlumency is the discipline of shielding your thoughts from unsuspecting Legilimency attacks. Not many choose to learn Legilimency, but all members of the Noble Houses learn Occlumency as part of their upbringing," Alice explains, Molly nodding from where she sits beside the Lady Longbottom. "Aurors such as myself, Frank and Sirius have to show that we know Occlumency or learn it and Legilimency during our Auror training."

"There's never been any studies done in Great Britain about how the Mind Arts work on non-human entities. It comes back to Pureblood dogma and how superior the majority of them believe themselves to be over everyone else," Amelia states softly, her hands folding on her lap. "That aside, we do have a method of extracting memories and viewing them. I should have asked for your memories of that night, but with everything else going on…"

"No, I understand completely. How does this memory extraction work?" Kyrios leans forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees as he looks over the group.

"I put the tip of my wand near your temple while you think of that specific memory and store it in a vial." Amelia stands up, flicking her wand into her hand from the holster strapped to her wrist. She conjures up a vial and stopper, spelling the glass to be unbreakable before she approaches Kyrios. "Frank, Alice, please stand witness that I am extracting the memory of the night of November the First, 1981 from Lord Kyrios Stavros in regards to the abandonment of one Scion Harry Potter at the doorstep of a Muggle by one Albus Dumbledore."

Both Longbottoms stands, wands drawn as they recite a witness's oath in both the capacity of Aurors and as Lord and Lady of House Longbottom. Once they finished their recitation, a bright flash erupts from the tips of their wands, coupled with a scroll of parchment each that has their statements transcribed upon them. They both signed their statements and handed them to Amelia after she extracts the memory from Kyrios and places it in the vial. It is silvery in appearance, and holds the form of a cross between liquid and gas yet is neither. Once the stopper is in place on the vial, it is sealed with magic so that only Amelia will be able to open it, ensuring that no one else can access and tamper with the memory.

"Lord Stavros, Kyrios, you always seem to give me more work whenever I come by," Amelia says with a small laugh as she places the vial and statements in a tiny moleskin pouch that is embossed with the DMLE seal.

"I fear this may be the norm when dealing with me, Amelia," Kyrios says in a light, teasing tone. He looks away from Amelia as Sebastian appears, looking unrepentant for his interruption. "Yes, Michaelis?"

"I've prepared lunch, sir." The demonic butler casts a meaningful glance towards the children playing quietly with a number of toys he had produced earlier when Ewan had decided he'd had enough petting and prodding. The older boys have taken up with a set of blocks and are trying to build what looks to be Hogwarts under Remus' gentle instruction.

"Ah, yes. Lunch sounds wonderful. You're all invited to have lunch if you don't have any pressing matters." Kyrios says with a disarming smile as he stands up.

Molly and the Longbottoms are quick to agree while Amelia hesitates, if only for a second. "I suppose Susan and I can stay for lunch."

Somewhere in Germany

He is so very weak, and oh so tired. It is a mystifying and curious sensation for the wraith-like shadow he's become. Memories of that night played out in a jarring and disorienting order, sending pulses of dizzying, aching panic through him. Is he dead? He is certain he had succeeded, yet why is he so weak?

The boy. That's right. Something had gone wrong. Things are slotting together, letting him slowly make sense of it all. A fiery haired woman begging for the life of the child. The man, urging them to run… no, that isn't right. The man comes first. A flash of green? No… Green eyes, wet with unshed tears while she begs. He raises his wand... No, he orders her to stand aside. Why?

Severus…. He had intended to spare her for Severus. The fool woman still insists that he take her instead. The child. Spare the child but take her. The child is key, though. Half-blood, like him yet not. He is the one the prophecy speaks of. He must kill the child. He must…

He pauses, a new and peculiar sensation tingling throughout his wraith-like form. He can feel something, a resonance that echoes across his very soul that grows stronger. What he doesn't realize is that the fragment of himself that had unknowingly lodged into Harry Potter is hurtling towards him. He still doesn't know what it is, even when it rejoins with him and memories of a lavish sitting room with a Goblin and a man, no… Not a man. Not with that ethereal glow he gives off. Whatever he is…he is dangerous. That is all he could glean from the memories, his strength seeming to wane.