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Chapter Text

Harry Potter was twenty eight years old and he had completely and utterly lost hope. Back when he was seventeen he had so desperately wished it to be over.
They had lost so many people. There had been dozens of good people, of his friends and family who had stood and fought. There had been strangers and once upon a time enemies who fought and died together but it wasn’t enough.
When Voldemort realized that Harry was still alive the light and dark clashed once more.
However this time there was one difference.
Tom Riddle had taken his horcrux, that thrice damned snake and disappeared.
He allowed his army to fight until they retreated with dozens dead on both sides and now over a decade later they were still fighting and they were losing. The Order was gone, Hogwarts was rubble and Voldemort sat on a bloody throne somewhere under Fidelius charm.
Ron was long since dead as were the rest of his family. Almost everyone he had ever loved was gone. He lost most of them to death in a pointless war.
Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy survived.
***
Draco had learned much from Snape more than anyone had ever realized. Snape had trained him to take his place if it were ever needed. He knew that his godson wasn’t evil. Draco played a part, looking to make his father proud but he didn’t have the stomach or the heart to witness such evil.
The grumpy misunderstood Severus Snape had the most powerful occlumency shields that the world had ever seen. He had taught his godson to be better because if he were dead and the war still raged they all had to be better. The generation that was supposed to have stopped the war had only made things worse.

Snape trained Draco on potions, dueling and dark magic during the year he was at school. He had pushed information into him until he was almost comatose with information. His body had been bruised and bloody but Draco had learned.
There were very few who wanted to be on the wrong end of his wand. His mind had screamed in pain but Draco had pushed forward. He had proved himself many times over as an asset and as a spy.
He had eventually been discovered and was on the run. For the past year they had been running and they all knew they couldn’t hold out much longer. They couldn’t win this godforsaken war.
During their time on the run Draco taught them everything that Snape had taught him. Mostly their knowledge was lacking in the dark magic section.
***
Hermione taught them everything else under the sun. They learned through their pain and they fought with everything that they had and it still wasn’t enough.
The second war was more of a joke than anything else.
Tom already had everything in place. His followers were all working their way to the prime positions to stage a takeover. The war had been lost decades ago. They were just dealing with the fallout.
***
Harry had always been powerful.
As time passed his power grew more and more until he managed to go toe to toe with Voldemort. Once Tom realized that Harry had grown into his power and become his equal he escaped the duel.
He was never seen again. He didn’t take part in any raids. He just waited under his wards, not willing to face Harry again. Instead Harry Potter was to be killed on sight. It was now too dangerous for him to try and duel Harry. The child was no longer helpless. He was willing to let anyone kill Potter if it meant ending the war. Harry had already wiped out dozens of his men.
All Tom Riddle had done since his resurrection was just pick up where he had once left off. The last time it had taken a baby and a miracle to save them. This time there were no more sacrifices and no more miracles. They were going to die and with them the resistance would die as well.
Harry closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch his siblings in everything but blood die before his eyes. As what seemed to be dozens of death eaters had surrounded them he finally gave up fighting.

***
The last thing he saw was the sickly green of the killing curse rushing towards him.
When he awoke he was once again in Kings Cross Station. This time however he was not alone and he was not meeting Albus either. Hermione, Draco and Neville were all there waiting for him with smiles on their faces until a man dressed in a black suit appeared.
He was utterly normal with his bald head, brown eyes and tight smile except for the scythe that he carried in his hand, “Hello Master.” The man greeted joyfully.
Harry immediately stiffened, “The only reason you would call me ‘Master’ is if you were Death and I got rid of the stone so that I couldn’t be your Master.”
The man rolled his eyes at them and said, “It doesn’t matter. The cloak was yours by right of birth. The wand was yours by right of conquest while the stone was yours by right of Magic.”
Hermione bit her lip, “What do you mean by right of Magic?”
Death looked at her and rolled her eyes, “My sister Magic Miss Granger. I am the physical representation of Death and I have two sisters Fate and Magic. Fate sends messages to the moral realm through her chosen.”
He tinkered with the scythe for a moment before continuing, “You call them seers however it's never very clear what she’s trying to say. I blame the veil. It's so hard to get the clear messages through the bloody thing but Magic is different. Magic lives in every witch and wizard as a force of nature neither good nor evil but a tool which one is born with.”
The four of them just looked at him even more confused and Draco drawled out, “Again, we are here because?”
Death sighed, almost like he was fed up of dealing with bratty children and continued, “The Deathly Hallows can only be united under certain circumstances which Mr. Potter here has fulfilled. He got the cloak by right of birth, won the wand through a duel, but the stone was the tricky part.”
Death reached out with the scythe to show them the stone. It was a ruby red color embedded in the middle of the staff. He stroked the stone for a moment before looking at Harry again. “To win the stone one would have to accept death. Harry Potter you know Death well. It comes as friend or foe, to those who go either willingly or begging for a second chance. However it is not something to be afraid of. There is nothing but peace in the afterlife.”
Harry looked away from Death unable to keep staring into his eyes. The face he wore may have seemed to be normal but the eyes were the windows to the soul. He could not keep staring into the abyss even though he knew Death spoke the truth. “That is the reason why one would have to find the stone, use the stone and willingly let it go
because they have accepted that the dead do not belong there in the mortal world. You have to willingly let go. By throwing it away you won the title.”
Neville cracked his neck and watched as Hermione winced at the cracking sound he made. When he spoke, “What does it mean to be the Master of Death and why are we here? It is Harry that holds the title so why are we here?”
***
Death waved his hand and a lounge set appeared, “Sit down and get comfortable.”
The four friends did as they were told and waited to hear why they were here, “We could have brought you here at any time after Harry gained the title. However there were concerns from the others. You were all too young and you didn’t have enough skills yet.”
Death poured some tea while he explained, “Simply put none of you were ready and we honestly were not sure if it would be you four or not. You have each mastered your roles and your abilities. We believe that you have grown and have become more jaded. You are finally your own people not dependent on the memory of your parents or mentors. You finally see the truth which is a burden in its own regard.”
Death stopped speaking, letting them process things for a moment before he continued, “When Tom Riddle created horcruxes he went against Magic but also Fate and Death. Magic is a balance and the tearing of the soul goes against nature. It's not dark magic but black magic. Magic cursed him which is the reason for the snake's appearance.”
Neville snorted, “Not even Magic wanted him.”
Death snapped his fingers, “Fate can only guide whole souls and I cannot reap a soul tethered to the mortal realm. We cannot stop him. We tried with the prophecy but that just created an even bigger mess.” Everyone paused as they thought of the consequences of the prophecy and the lives it ruined. “This was not what we wanted and we could only watch helplessly as he destroyed the balance of the world. The war is moving. He is invading France and he will win. He will eventually be a force far greater than Grindelwald until we found a loophole.”
Death looked pointedly at Harry. Harry resisted the urge to run and hide. Even though Death looked normal there was a presence that couldn’t be ignored. The longer they stayed near him the more power he could sense. Frankly, he never wanted to be near that amount of power. “As the Master of Death you can force me not to reap your soul but I know you Mr. Potter. You know you cannot win in your time. Even if you force me to bring you back to life, like your friend Neville said they do not hold the same power. They will remain dead if you choose to go back to where you left. You will be alone, fighting a war you already know you cannot win.”
Death ignored the anger his master displayed. Instead he carried on like nothing had changed, “We offer you and your family an opportunity to stop the war before it destroys the balance completely. Fate, Magic and I are willing to send you four back to 1975.”

Draco scoffed, “All of us?”
Death nodded, “Yes all four of you so that Master will not be alone. You will all get to live and in return you will stop this war. However you, Mr. Potter, will sacrifice your power as Master of Death and return to being mortal.”
Hermione’s mind was already moving as fast as possible trying to cover all the ways this could go right or wrong. Harry just stared at Death in shock, unable to believe he was actually offered something like this. “Time travel is dangerous. What if we cause ourselves not to be born or make things worse?” Hermione asked.
Death shook his head at her, “You would be correct if you used time turners or a spell or potion but this isn’t how it works. You will go with the blessing of Fate, Time and Death. You cannot come back to your timeline. Any changes you make will not cause any paradoxes because you will exist outside of time. The people you remember will only be remembered by you.”
Death gave them a sad look, “People are shaped by their environments, by the people around them, by circumstances and the choices they make. Once you go back you will interact with people, befriend them, make enemies and none of them will be the people you know.”
Neville sighed, “We’ll change things just by existing in that time?”
Death nodded, “Life is shaped by choices. The people you know will be fifteen year old teenagers who have their whole lives ahead of them. They will not make the same choices nor will they choose to love the same people.”
Death returned Neville’s tea as he continued, “If you go back you have to accept that there are possibilities that some of your friends might never be born. The teen selves of the original Order will make different choices and follow different paths.”
Looks were shared between the four friends as Death continued, “They will have the same names and look similar to the people you knew but they will not be your parents, mentors or friends. You will have to accept the decisions they make whether it changes the timeline or not.”
***
Draco narrowed his eyes, “What about the fact that I’m obviously a Malfoy, he is a Potter and he is a Longbottom. Anyone who looks at us will notice it.”
Draco honestly had no problems changing the paths that people walked. Most of the people he had grown up with were dead. They all chose to follow a mad man. They all ended up insane which was probably a side effect of the mark. It had been a cursed life for almost everyone.

Death rolled his eyes, “You will be quadruplets. The Peverell quadruplets. You will have to do a heritage test at Gringotts. You will have a background set up already. Your looks will change, your memories locked away so that you will never be able to reveal your secret ever.”
Hermione frowned, “What do you mean locked away?”
Death waved off her concerns, “The truth of your existence is something only you four will ever know. No matter what it will not be able to be spoken about, not even under truth serums. The time line will be as you know it until you start to change things. From then on you are on your own but the sooner you kill him the better. Afterwards you are all free to live on until you die again, this time for the last time.” The four friends looked at each other and Harry said, “I died thinking I failed. I want a second chance at this.”
Hermione put her hand on his, “They won’t be your parents or even your godfather Harry. They’re just teenagers, innocent. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
Harry sighed, “My parents died, our friends and family died. They deserve to live. All of them and I know we won’t be a family. Once things change there might never be a Harry James Potter but as long as they’re all happy, it's fine. I could at least be their friend. I want to live before I die. I want a chance to be happy before I get to rest.”
Hermione and Harry turned to Draco and Neville and the other two boys smiled at them, “We go where you go and if you think we could win this then we will follow you.”
***
The four friends turned to Death and nodded their acceptance of the deal. Before they could leave, he waved a hand at them. There was a cool wind and it reminded Hermione of summer rain. They felt different once the moment passed. Death conjured up a mirror to show them their new look in case they wanted something different.
Neville’s hair was slightly shaggy. The color was now black with several white-blonde hairs mixed into the black. When he turned his head he noticed that if he stood in the sun there were also blood red highlights. It was a beautiful mixture of Draco’s blonde, Harry’s black and Hermione’s brown hair. His eyes matched Harry’s emerald green and he had higher cheekbones. He looked to be about fifteen years old. He was different but still recognizable as Neville. He had a scar running under his left ear to his left shoulder as well as several other curse scars and burns from his time fighting.
Draco’s hair was more black than blonde with one or two red highlights in his usual hairstyle. He also had green eyes and a less pointy chin and lower cheekbones. His lips were slightly fuller as well. There was a scar where his dark mark had been and the palms of his hands were branded with a snake figure. Bella had fun, heating a metal snake figurine and burning the image into her nephew's hands. Draco repaid her by blowing her head off. His body was littered with other curse marks and burns but those were the ones that stood out. The scar where the dark mark had been when Harry managed to remove it was an inch in width and very noticeable.
Hermione’s curls which once hung to her waist had been chopped off during the war now it was back. She had honestly missed her long hair and was pleased to see it fell in sleek waves instead of a bush. The color was more of a deep red with blonde highlights. The red was so dark it looked like it was black at first glance. In the sun it was obvious it was a deep red. She had green eyes which she was extremely pleased with as she was always wished to have an exotic eye color. Her mudblood scar remained. As did the one from her chest to tummy and the several curse scars on her back. She wore them with pride, as proof of her survival.
Harry was the same but his hair was pulled into a pony tail. The glasses were gone. The scar on his forehead, arm, upper arm from the giant snake, whip marks on his back and the hundreds of others everywhere else remained. The obvious Potter features were gone as well.
They all had several features in common and it was obvious to see that they were all siblings.
***
Death waved his hand again and said, “You will appear in Gringotts where Hadrian Peverell has requested a heritage test for him and his siblings. I would like to remind you that summer has only started and you have all just been attacked recently.”
He turned to walk away while saying, “Your battle wounds from before will be healed but Hermione you will have relapses from the Cruciatus curse so I suggest taking it easy. Hadrian you will be dependent on a cane for a while. Goodbye and good luck.”

Chapter Text

When the siblings opened their eyes they were shocked to find themselves in Gringotts. They were sitting in a private room in front of four goblins. They were holding out a ceremonial knife so that they could do a heritage test.
The siblings looked at Hadrian who nodded his head. Death hadn’t wasted any time since he sent them straight to the bank. They each cut their palms, allowed three drops of blood to hit the parchment and then they vanished the blood on the knife.
None of them noticed the gaze of respect that the goblins gave them for actually being able to do wandless magic. However the respect was more for the fact that they also were intelligent enough not to leave any blood lying around. That was something that most wizards took for granted.
The parchments glowed gold as their blood spread across the parchment and formed words. They each watched in shock as their results showed.
Hadrian Hades Peverell
Lord of the Most Ancient And Noble House of Peverell
Vault 322
Draco Thanatos Peverell
Lord of Most Ancient And Most Noble House of Slytherin
Vault 543
Neville Anubis Peverell
Lord of Most Ancient And Most Noble House of Gryffindor
Vault 567
Hermione Hel Peverell
Lady to Most Ancient And Most Noble House of Ravenclaw
Vault 432
Their results showed that their father was a pureblood Lord who was the direct ancestor of Godric Gryffindor. He was the Lord Peverell who had been born in Greece. Their mother was thought to be a muggleborn. She came from a long line of squibs from America which entitled them to the Slytherin and Ravenclaw titles.
They had complete control of Hogwarts castle. If the Hufflepuff heir could be found they still held the majority votes and had several votes in the Wizengamot. The quadruplets had a lot of power in the wizarding world. They also had a back story. There was evidence of their lives in this time but they had no memories of what supposedly happened.
***
Their father had been hiding from a dark wizard who was interested in the Peverell family history. When they were fifteen months old their father had been killed and then their mother. Afterwards there was an explosion and because it was a mostly muggle town, the muggle police arrived first.
The four children were taken to a muggle orphanage. By the time the Aurors were able to find the children the only family left were their mothers squib sister.
Hadrian was sent to live with their biological aunt and uncle. They absolutely loathed magic and hated him while his siblings had already been adopted. It had simply taken too long for the Aurors to find them and place the remaining sibling with the only remaining family left.
Draco had been taken in by a small pureblood family in France who saw him do accidental magic in the orphanage. They were pureblood supremacists. They were a dark family and Draco grew up believing they were his biological parents. He had wanted to make them happy and copied his father as much as possible which included his narrow minded views.
Hermione was adopted by muggles who loved her very much. They didn’t understand her magic but they dealt with it as best they could. She was an intelligent child, which isolated her from her peers. She grew up ignorant of the magical world.
Neville was adopted by a light family who saw him do magic as well. They died in some sort of magical experiment which left him to be raised by his fathers mother. She constantly compared him to adopted father and didn’t know that he was adopted.
They all had similar childhoods to their original lives until they were reunited. They didn’t have to pretend that they knew each other from birth. They could still draw on their childhood experiences without expecting the others to say the same thing.
Before their eleventh birthday their Godfather finally found Hadrian. He used Hadrian’s blood to do a tracking spell which managed to track down his siblings. Draco’s parents attacked Castor White when he explained that he would be petitioning for custody of his godson.
Castor knew that they didn’t adopt his godson legally however he didn’t expect them to attack him. He ended up killing them in self-defense. He took his godson and ensured he was awarded custody legally. Neville’s grandmother gave him up willingly when she found out he was adopted. Hermione’s parents died in a car accident only a few weeks before Castor found her. She was in another orphanage since neither of her muggle parents had any family willing to take her in.
They were all reunited before their eleventh birthday.
***
Castor taught them everything he knew and pushed them hard. He knew he was going to die as he was very sick. It was the reason he had been unable to find them for so long. Castor spent a lot of his time in and out of hospital.
When he died they were sent to Britain to do an inheritance test. He ensured they would be able to go to Hogwarts so they could take their OWL’s. Castor had already passed on and he had ensured that they were already emancipated. No one could try and take guardianship of them or try to steal their inheritance. They could claim their titles as soon as they were of age.
When they first arrived in Britain they were captured by Death eaters. They were held prisoner for over a month until the Aurors raided the place they had been kept and rescued them. They refused to tell that they had magical parents and so some deranged death eater carved mudblood into Hermione.
The reason the Aurors raided the place was because the three brothers went mad at hearing their sisters screams during her torture. They blasted through the wards using pure raw anger and they slaughtered every death eater they came across.
The Daily Prophet had several pictures of the place and of the Quadruplets who had turned the house into a massacre. There were some pictures of some of their scars but nothing major.
Hadrian had been the one hurt the most in the fight. His entire hip to knee had been completely destroyed by rubble. He was currently walking using a cane. He would eventually recover if he stuck to the correct potion regime.
Hermione had taken several rounds of the Cruciatus and would sometimes have relapses and muscle spasms. Her body was extremely weak so that she couldn’t walk for long periods of time nor could she carry heavy loads. The damage would eventually be repaired but it would take some time for her to regain her strength.
Neville and Draco had been spared any major damage however they would need several nutrient potions for quite a while to regain their weight. They were all severely malnourished.
***
They were given several stacks of paper work so that they could see how many properties they owned and what they needed to do as their houses were in complete disrepair.
Hadrian chose Peverell Palace as their home and their base of operations. Neville took one look at the huge manor and groaned. The place had not been inhabited for several decades, but thankfully there were four house elves, Mippy, Dippy, Listy and Solly.
They were all so happy to have Masters and a Mistress once more and even though the house was clean it needed a lot of work. Hadrian, Draco and Hermione dropped their stacks of paperwork on Neville’s desk and left him to it.
Neville would get the house up and running and sort through all the paperwork. He would sort through everything that needed to be addressed. The ministry had taken several properties that they had no legal right to take and other items of their Birth house that had been mismanaged.
Draco would go through the laws which were passed due to whatever illegal reason someone used their votes. Depending on the law he would rewrite or revise the entire legislation to ensure it benefited their cause. He would also ensure it was water tight, covering all their bases as he was the best politician.
Hermione was their researcher. She looked over everything and bounced ideas off Draco. He was the one who ensured that her ideas were based on the need of the magical world and not just prejudice. No one wanted the house elves issue ever again. House elves need to bond to stay alive. She could make their conditions better but she couldn’t free them all.
Hadrian gathered allies. As much as they wanted him leading them they all knew of the unnatural interest Dumbledore had in him. They didn’t want a repeat of the last war. It was best if no one knew anything about Hadrian until they were ready to make their move.
While Neville was sorting through the house and the paperwork, Draco and Hadrian were going through the history and papers. They were gathering information on the war, what was happening and who was doing what.
Hadrian had eventually made his peace with Dumbledore. The man had never been perfect but he had tried and so they would give him the benefit of the doubt. He cared very much about the people he worked with which was the reason why he carried so much guilt over every death.
However guilt didn’t stop him from moving people like pawns on a chessboard. This time they weren’t going to let him lead the war his way. They tried it his way, but it failed. They would work with him but they wouldn’t dance to his tunes. They would force him to see the bigger picture whether he liked it or not. War was ugly and people would die. Some they would have to kill but it had to be done and there were no more second chances.
Dumbledore wanted to end the war without bloodshed and that was just never going to happen.
The last of the horcruxes were only hidden by the end of 1978. Afterwards he didn’t make another horcrux until the second war. This time they weren’t going to just destroy every horcrux they found as soon as they found it.
There was a very real chance that he would check on his horcruxes and discover them missing. However they also knew they couldn’t just leave them lying about. They would collect the horcruxes and wait until the locket was in the cave. Then they would destroy all of them at the same time and kill him once and for all.
That gave them three years to pull as many Slytherins to their side as possible. They would stop Peter from turning dark as well as save as many Slytherins as possible. There were many who regretted their choices. This time they would bow to the Lord of Slytherin not an insane mad man claiming to be the heir of Slytherin.
***
Draco and Harry wrote out the time line as well as pulling several memories of what they knew about the First war. Draco was a history buff however he also had the advantage of having Lucius as a father. He had never thought there would be an advantage to being raised by him but he finally found one.
Draco knew some of the earlier moves the Dark had made and several raids which had not happened yet. They needed to find a way to warn Albus and they had several ideas so far but nothing concrete. Their plans were still roughly being outlined.
Hermione left them to create their timeline. The more they knew and plotted it out the better for her. She had already given them all the memories she had of everything she had learned of the First war. Most of her knowledge came from books which meant that Draco might already know everything that she knew. It was best to double check but she couldn’t help them much.
She had her own mission. They arrived with nothing but the clothes on their back and Hadrian’s invisibility cloak which she assumed was some sort of joke from Death. They all needed an entirely new closet. They needed robes, muggle clothes, shoes, accessories and everything in between.
They needed their school supplies as well as things for their rooms. They needed blankets and carpets and pillows. The house was incredibly beautiful but except for a few pieces of furniture here and there, there was nothing in the house, not even curtains. She had already been given a list of everything each room needed.
***
Hermione went to Diagon Alley to buy everything that she needed, however there was only one problem. She couldn’t walk for long nor could she carry her bags.
She huffed in anger, staring at her hands which were shaking. There was so much to do before Hogwarts and she couldn’t even shop for more than an hour on her own.
She closed her eyes against the tears of frustration when she heard a voice that she honestly never thought she would hear again saying, “If you’re done having a breakdown can you move? You’re blocking the doorway.”
Hermione opened her eyes and nearly gasped at the shabby looking teen staring at her with an eyebrow raised. His hair was still long, lanky and oily looking. His nose was still terribly hooked and he had not grown into his body yet. He was still pale and for a moment she saw him as she had known him.
However, she noticed the differences. There was no aura of quiet power and no confidence. He even walked with his shoulders hunched inwards trying to make himself look smaller. His clothes were shabby, torn and mismatched. Everything about him screamed that no one cared and there was a flash of anger in her heart.
This was Severus Snape.
The sour Potions Professor who had been wronged by everyone who was supposed to care about him. He had been let down by his parents, grandparents and even the Headmaster. The only person he had to count on was himself. He ruined his own life with his own choices because he didn’t think anyone else cared if he died or not. He died a miserable death, staring into the eyes of the only person who had ever loved him.
Lily was the only one who tried to convince him that he was better than what he was becoming. When she couldn’t save him because he wouldn’t let her, she abandoned him as well.
He had no self-confidence, no self-worth and he had lived entirely for someone else. His life was spent protecting the proof that the only person he had ever cared for had loved someone else. However looking at him now all she could see was a young boy.
Severus was just fifteen years old and she knew what would happen this year. He would lose Lily but only if he didn’t pull his head out of his arse. He needed to see his own worth. She knew his potential, which was limitless. He just needed to be nurtured.
He just needed someone to guide him and Lily couldn’t do it. She was too young. She didn’t understand him because she had never known cruelty. However Hermione knew she could save him from himself even if he fought her at every step she was going to save him.
She smiled at him and watched as his face immediately became guarded, “What are you doing here?” Severus pointed to the ‘Help Wanted’ sign, “I was trying to get a summer job however no one is willing to hire me.”
Hermione bit her lip and then it hit her. Severus had been poor so it would only make sense that at some point he tried to earn a little more money. Judging from his clothes she could understand why no one ever bothered to hire him. He once told her that his summers were spent wandering around the magical and muggle world.
She never realized that he had been searching for someone to give him work, probably so that he could get better supplies and clothes which would have done wonders for his self-esteem. “I’ll hire you.”
Severus stared at the witch in front of him. She looked rich so she was probably a pureblood. He couldn’t help but wonder what on earth could she possibly want with him? Whatever she wanted him to do would probably be humiliating and pay poorly. However even a few galleons would be better than nothing he knew that but he was still hesitant to trust her word.
“I’ll pay you a hundred galleons a day, fifty now and fifty when the day is over.”
Severus felt his jaw drop. That was a fortune so she was definitely rich so he had to ask,
“What will I have to do?”
The girl smiled softly, "It's nothing hard. I just need you to carry the bags and let me lean on you. You might have to buy me something to drink now and then but honestly I just need help with the shopping.”
Severus raised both eyebrows, “Why would you need help like that?”
The girl laughed at him and held out her hand, “My name is Hermione Peverell and I was held under the cruciatus curse. My muscles are weak and I cannot walk alone for long nor can I carry much. I’m hoping it gets better by the time school starts.”
Severus stared at the girl in shock. She was such a tiny thing and the thought of her being held under that type of torture made him angry. She was still obviously suffering from the effects. He immediately took the bag from her hand and guided her to a bench to rest.
“My name is Severus Snape.”
She smiled brightly at him again and said, “My brothers have so much to do I offered to do all the shopping. There is so much to do and I cannot be out for long so are you willing to take the job Mr. Snape?”
Severus nodded his head. She gave him fifty galleons which was more money than he had ever held at one time and she pointed, “I’m getting all the curtains and beddings today. Tomorrow I shall do the carpets. Will you be able to accompany me once more? I’ll pay you the same wage. It's utterly boring and my brothers cannot do it nor would I trust them to get what we need.”
She was offering him another hundred galleons! That would be enough to cover new robes and new textbooks for the year with extra left over. If he was clever he might be able to stretch the few galleons for all Hogsmead weekends that year. He never went because he could never afford anything and his pride refused to let Lily pay.
“I shall accompany you as much as you wish Miss Peverell.” He replied quickly not wanting her to change her mind.
She smiled at him and linked their arms together so she could lean on him, “Please call me Hermione. I will be going to Hogwarts when summer ends, and I would like to at least have one friend.”
Severus was shocked that she was willing to offer him friendship. No one ever bothered with him so he smiled as best he could. Lily would like it that he finally had another friend.
“Call me Severus then. What year will you be in?”
Hermione made small talk with him for a while longer. They discussed Hogwarts, the house system, the courses and everything else that came to mind. He even told her of Lily and some of the adventures they went on together. Then he told her of the marauders and their pranks and how humiliating they were.
“I think you shouldn’t respond. These boys sound like they get excited when you respond. When they call you names and you respond it gives them reasons to fight back. Then you end up in a duel which is unfair because then it's four against one. They keep targeting you because they can make it a show and James can show off to Lily even though she doesn’t like it.”
“Lily said the same thing but my anger gets the better of me.” He replied and Hermione was shocked. She didn’t think that he would confide in her like that but it also gave her an idea. “Have you ever heard of occlumency?” she asked.
“I know what it is but I do not know how it works. The books I have found only gave the bare minimum of how it works.” He answered her and she smiled brightly. She had found several books in the Ravenclaw vault and one of them explained mind arts better than anything she had ever seen in either time. She had been carrying it with her simply because it was a well discussed topic and she wanted to read it.
“I’ll lend this to you. It will teach you how to shield your mind and control your anger. Be the better man Severus and eventually they’ll get bored. I also found that these exercises can prepare you for becoming an animagus.” She knew that he would want to become one which would lead to him being busier during the year. Eventually it will be an asset during the war but for now it will keep him out of trouble. He would be working on his shields and his transformation giving him less time to fight with the marauders.
***
Severus and Hermione met every day for seven days. After the third day he tried to stop her from paying him as he considered her a friend now but she wouldn’t have it. It was still his job to help her around and so she would pay him until all the shopping was done.
She only shopped for about three hours that day. Afterwards he went to the park and met up with Lily. He told her about his new friend and she was very happy for him. Especially since he met the girl he was acting more and more like the old Severus.The person she had known from before Hogwarts when he was full of wonder and ambition and not weighed down by hatred and anger. It lifted a burden she had been carrying for so long, and she hoped it carried on to Hogwarts.
The last thing she got was their clothes and robes for three boys and herself. Then she dragged him to the muggle world and bought clothes there as well. She got him to try on several things and then bought it for him simply saying that if he didn’t wear it she would put it in the bin.
Then she dragged him to the barber and ordered the elderly man to cut those lanky locks off. The old man had laughed when Severus tried to run for his life. Instead of getting angry when he turned to run, Hermione turned her green eyes on him and allowed them to fill with tears. The elderly man laughed as Severus sat down and allowed her to do whatever she wanted.
“Ah, young love, how I remember how quickly I ran to accommodate my Helena when she started to cry.” Then the poor man laughed even more at the two teenagers blushing faces as they both avoided eye contact with each other and him.
Severus with short hair made her smile. His hair looked so much better when it was cropped short but he was also unable to hide behind it. He finally looked like every other teenager.
She walked him to the park when she turned to him and hit him with a spell and then she smiled, “I always wondered why you never just did that instead of leaving it like that.” She conjured up a mirror to show him that she fixed his nose. His father had broken it when he was young and it healed wrong. She fixed it, so that it wasn’t hooked. It was smaller and more proportionate to his face. Without his nose taking up all the space you could see his eyes.
They were a dark black opal color which Hermione had always found beautiful even when he hated her.
“Won’t you get into trouble?” he asked breathlessly.
Hermione laughed, “Being an emancipated teenager means I can use magic outside of school. I’m technically considered an adult.” He hugged her to thank her. She had made everything so much better in just one week and she smiled, “Just because I’m done shopping doesn’t mean we can’t meet. I’ll pick you up here tomorrow at the same time as always. You can visit my home and bring Lily as well if you want.”

Chapter Text

Severus waited for Lily in the park after Hermione left. When Lily finally made it to their meeting spot she all but fell onto the grass and started pulling out books and immediately started babbling.
“Sev, you would never believe how horrible Petunia is acting. It's only getting worse since she recently found herself a boyfriend. A fat lug that was so utterly boring and normal I nearly wanted to claw my eyes out or just do some magic just to see what color he would turn when he saw it.”
Lily finally stopped pulling things out of her bag and looked at him. She opened her mouth to complain some more, paused and stared at her friend in shock. Severus looked different. He was even standing differently and there was a hint of a smile on his face.
Lily always knew that her friends never understood why she hung out with Severus but none of them ever really understood her. Severus had been the only one who made her feel normal especially when Petunia had started to pull away from her.
He was always there to make her feel better since he was different from everyone too. He would cheer her up by telling her about magic. He made her feel like she was part of something wonderful. She knew that he wasn’t handsome in the classical sense like Potter, Black, or even Malfoy. They all were tossers but even she could admit that they looked handsome.
Lily knew Severus didn’t have a good home life. She knew he was poor and that he didn’t take very good care of himself but she never pitied him. No, pitying him would have probably had the proud boy tossing her into the pond in the park.
Severus had very little which was the reason why he was so possessive over everything that he did have. She also knew that he was proud. He would never ask for help but always felt that he had to earn what was given to him. Those were qualities that she admired about him.
He might have hated his situation but he never begged nor pleaded. He chose to bear with what little he had with as much dignity as he could find. She knew that he had been searching for a job since the summer of second year. He was always trying to earn what he needed. She knew that he didn’t have any luck but today seeing him like this Lily saw a whole new side to her best friend.
However it was only now that she understood the difference between knowing and understanding. Lily always knew but she couldn’t compare his experiences to anything that ever happened to her. She never truly emphasized with him because she never had to deal with what he dealt with. Their childhood had been so tightly wound together however their experiences were so vastly different.
***
Severus was already standing taller. He was a little more confident in himself. Without the long lanky hair always hiding his face and falling into his eyes he looked older and it didn’t make him seem dirty.
She knew that he bathed every day. He always smelt like soap but she also knew that his silky hair made him look unhygienic and dirty. However with his hair that short he looked cleaner.
He was still pale but it was his nose that shocked her the most. For as long as Lily had known Severus his nose had been large and hooked. Today it was normal, smaller and no longer hooked and she could see his eyes.
Severus had always told her how beautiful her green eyes were but Lily had secretly always adored his eyes. Severus’s eyes were not brown, but rather they were black at first glance. They reminded her of the opal jewel. If he looked up at the sun she would swear that she saw hints of purple and knew that his eyes were not black or brown but a very dark purple which looked black. She was sure if he had a daughter she would have pretty purple eyes. A lighter shade of his intense purple shade.
Severus Snape was not as handsome as Potter, Black or Malfoy but he wasn’t ugly either. No one could ever call him ugly anymore. He was handsome in a stern, slightly dangerous way.
Then again no one in the muggle neighborhood that they lived in crossed Lily Evans. She was friends with Severus Snape.
They all knew how dangerous the Snape boy could be. After all he lived in the worst part of town and he thrived in it. Severus may have been bullied and called bad names but no muggle child had ever hurt him. The last thirteen year old kid that tried to beat up a twelve year old Severus ended up unconscious after one punch. No one else was willing to get into a fight with him ever again.
Severus looked at Lily slightly unnerved and wondered if the new look was really that bad. He thought it made him look better, less like a beggar’s child and more normal. The clothes were new too, nothing incredibly fancy, just black jeans and a black sweater.
His boots were new as well and they actually fit him well. None of the things he wore were name brands, but they were all new and they all fit him right. So he thought it was a good upgrade considering the mess he usually looked like. The ill-fitting clothes always emphasized his skinniness, making him look sickly. Now though, he just looked like a lanky teenager still growing into himself.
***
Severus couldn’t help but be extremely grateful that he had met Hermione Peverell. She was incredibly beautiful but she was also very smart. They debated potions and spells and all types of theories. He never had someone who he could debate with before. Lily thought all dark magic was evil and no one else could keep up with his intelligence.
She took her time and explained several Transfiguration theories to him which helped him more than she knew. His worst subject was Transfiguration and he hoped that he could improve. He needed to improve if he wanted to become an animagus. He had already begun the meditations but it would take a long time before he was ready to try changing part of his body.
The occlumency part was going extremely well. He always had a very ordered mind and with the book he had already begun to control his emotions. Usually control was really hard for him especially when he was in front of Potter and Black. However talking with Hermione, he realized how childish he was being and how he added fuel to the fire.
Those boys were nothing but privileged idiots. They never worked a day in their life for anything and that wasn’t his problem. He needed to grow up at some point and he no longer had time to deal with their tantrums at Lily being his friend.
Lily was her own person. She was free to do as she pleased neither Potter, Black or even himself had the right to demand anything of her. She was free to associate with whoever she pleased and that included the marauders or Slytherins. It was the first time he had come to a mature conclusion.
“You look really good Sev. The new look really suits you.” Lily broke his train of thoughts and Severus realized that he owed Lily something.
“I’m sorry Lily.” He said and Lily just looked lost.
“For what Sev?” she asked and Severus sighed and sat down beside her.
“I haven’t been a good friend to you lately, especially this last year. You kept telling me that Avery wasn’t a good influence and I knew you were right. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Lily took a deep breath and prayed that they wouldn’t end up fighting when she asked, “If you knew I was right then why didn’t you want to admit it? I need to understand Sev. I may not understand everything but I want to try and see things from your point of view.”
Severus started playing with the grass not being able to meet her eyes, “They made me feel important Lily. The marauders were being them. You were busy with your other friends and I just wanted to feel important. I was jealous of everything that Potter and Black had. They were born lucky and I was bitter. I wanted power so that no one could hurt me. It was petty.”
Lily knew it was true. She knew that he hated them because of everything that they had. She saw him look jealous while they flaunted their money around. She also knew that Severus would never accept handouts. They made it worse when they mocked him for having so little.
She knew that he was bitter and that his resentment was growing. She always hoped that somehow he would overcome it and it seemed like something had really changed in the past week.
“I met a girl, Lily. Her name is Hermione and she was held under the Cruciatus curse so she needed help getting around. She couldn’t walk on her own for long nor could she carry her own bags. She offered me a job. She asked me to accompany her every day and help her. She paid me a hundred galleons.”
Lily felt her jaw drop. A hundred galleons was a lot of money. When she got new robes every year she usually spent at least twenty galleons on her robes. Severus probably made enough money to get some robes and new books, and even better quills.
Lily shook her head and tried to get a hold on her spiraling thoughts. They needed to finish this conversation. She nodded at Severus to continue as he stopped talking when she stopped paying attention.
“We spoke a lot and I told her about Hogwarts. She’s starting fifth year in September. I told her about Hogwarts and the houses and the professors. We spoke about the marauders and she made me realize that I’m being no better than Potter and Black.” He flushed slightly when he finally admitted it. He took a deep breath and continued, “I never believed in blood purity. My best friend is a muggleborn, I’m a half-blood and I knew I couldn’t pick and choose. I knew I was being a hypocrite especially when I joined Avery and his gang.”
Lily never realized that he felt bad about what he was doing. She thought that he really was enjoying it. Lily had been so sure that Avery was encouraging the hate that was growing inside him and twisting him into someone she didn’t recognize. Severus just kept talking, like if he stopped he was afraid he wouldn’t speak ever again.
“They pick on muggleborns. It's no better than the marauders picking on me for being in Slytherin. I knew I was becoming no better than them. By joining those wanna-be death eaters I’m proving everybody right. That I’m nothing but a wannabe death eater and I don’t want to be that person.”
Severus had wrapped his arms around his knees like he was trying to protect himself as he continued, “That person scares me. I was just more afraid that once you left me I would have no one but Avery and his friends. I didn’t want to be alone even if I had to sell my soul to the devil.”
Lily actually started to cry because she was so relieved. She had never really known how afraid she was of losing Severus down that dark path. A path that she could not travel until he admitted how scared he was of the person he was becoming. She was even more relieved that he realized how afraid of the person he was becoming he was.
She threw herself into his arms and noticed that he was absolutely out of his depth. Severus never really dealt well with crying girls. This was something that he had no idea what to do so he just returned the hug and waited.
“I was so scared I was going to lose you. Everyone was telling me to just stop trying and let you be but I knew that you weren’t that hate filled boy that they thought you were. I just hoped that you would find yourself before you were gone forever. You’ll never be alone.”
Severus sighed and said, “I can’t promise I won’t make mistakes Lily. They are my dorm mates. I can't exactly sleep in an abandoned classroom. I will promise you that I will try to distance myself and I won’t hurt anyone anymore. I can’t be the person they want me to be anymore.”
The two friends spent more time talking about everything. He told her more and more about Hermione and then he extended the invite to visit her home tomorrow. Lily agreed to go. She really wanted to meet the person that calmly reminded Severus of who he truly was.
Lily wanted to thank her for somehow finding a way to guide Severus out of his own mind. A mind that had been so filled with hatred and bitterness that he was losing himself to it. This girl had somehow shown him the way of the hole he was digging himself into. She hadn’t been able to reach him but she was just glad that someone had managed too.
***
Lily was wearing a pretty white summer dress and sandals. Severus wore his new jeans, boots and a slightly dressy looking shirt. He blushed slightly when Lily raised an eyebrow at him. She was going to question the flush in his cheeks when there was a rush of wind.
Hermione appeared wearing a muggle dress as well. The dress was a deep blue and it had sleeves to her elbows and ended just above her knees. Her hair was in a braid and she smiled brightly at Severus. She immediately pulled him into a hug as soon as she saw him.
Severus introduced the two girls and they shook hands. Hermione pulled out her locket which had a rose pendant. She told them that it was the Peverell coat of arms when Lily seemed awed by it. She muttered a password and they were port keyed away.
Lily stumbled, tripped over the carpet and skidded onto the tiles and clashed head on with Draco. The two teenagers landed in a heap of arms and legs. Hadrian skidded to a stop behind Draco who he had been hobbling after while Neville calmly walked down the staircase.
Severus stared wide eyed at the three boys and glanced at Hermione who started giggling, “I never thought I would see the day that there was someone worse than Hadrian when using magical transportation.”
Draco opened his eyes and saw red. It was the prettiest red he had ever seen in his life. He squeezed the soft thing that was in his left hand. It was round and soft and sort of squishy.
There was a gasp from somewhere below him and he flushed when he realized what that was in his hand. He almost broke his arm trying to stop feeling it.
Lily was blushing bright red. Normally she would have gone off on whoever had dared but it was obvious that the poor boy didn’t mean too. Especially since he all but threw himself off her and blushed redder than her own hair.
“I am so sorry Miss Evans. My brother and I were being idiots and I didn’t see you.”
The boy offered her a hand and she smiled brightly at him as he helped her up. “It's alright. It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t know I would be that terrible at port keying; it seemed so simple.”
Draco smiled and laughed with her, “You should see Hadrian. The floo hates him. He always lands on his face, but he is a demon on a broom. Forgive me, I am Draco Peverell. The one with the cane is Hadrian and the one at the bottom of the stairs is Neville.”
The two boys shook hands with them both and then Neville excused himself, “It was nice meeting you but I have paperwork to complete. Have fun with your friends Mia and call if you need anything.”
Draco and Severus got into a potions debate over the tea Hermione ordered. The two girls were getting to know each other a little when they were startled out of their conversation.
They were both sucked into Draco’s and Severus’s discussion. For a little while Hermione and Lily tried to follow until the two girls gave up all hope. Hermione sent them to Draco’s lab to experiment just to get some peace. Draco argued his points as he dragged Severus into his lab Hermione called out a warning,
“If you blow up the lab you’re explaining it to Neville. Do try not to traumatize your new friend.”
Hadrian was flying outside even though he wasn’t supposed to be with his injured leg. Hermione took Lily to watch and to check that he wasn’t hurting himself. The two girls chatted about silly things while Hadrian did some silly stunts.
Lily mentioned that she was muggleborn and that it was so hard to believe everything Severus told her was true. Hermione mentioned her parents were muggle dentists which prompted the discussion of how Hermione and her siblings had been raised separately.
“It was really hard at first. Castor just showed up out of the blue and suddenly I had three brothers. All of whom were all so different. Hadrian had no self-preservation. Neville had no self-worth and Draco had his head so far up his ass it wasn’t funny.”
Lily looked a little more interested when Draco was mentioned. Hermione sent her a sly smile and explained further, “Draco was raised by blood-supremacists. He knew at the back of his mind that the views they tried to beat into were wrong but he struggled.”
Lily frowned, “Struggled?”
Hermione nodded, “At first he was just a kid who wanted to make his parents proud. They might not have been very open or accepting of people but he thought they were his parents. They were loving, kind and parental towards him. His mom read him to sleep. His dad played games with him. He was loved.”
Lily sort of understood what Hermione was trying to say. The people that raised Draco were prejudiced but they were still good to him. They cared for him and raised him with a lot of love. It just so happened that they taught him to look down on those with a different blood status.
Hermione continued on, “Draco struggled with who he thought he should be and who he wanted to be. It helped that our mother was muggleborn. It took a lot of time, effort and fighting to get the way we are now. We’re a family now but we had our issues to get here. He doesn’t hold onto those thoughts anymore. We’ve all come a long way from where we were.”
***
Lily watched Hadrian in the sky and confessed, “Flying always looked so beautiful but I was so terrified of falling that I never properly learned how to do it. When I was in third year Fabian Prewett was in fifth year. He offered to give me lessons and Potter pranked him.”
She grimaced as she remembered the chaos that followed, “It was also the first time he decided to announce to the world that he was in love with me. The marauders started a prank war with the Prewitt twins. No one was willing to teach me ever again. I was so angry, especially because I really wanted to learn. I called Potter a toe-rag for the first time that day.”
Hermione got an idea and signaled for Hadrian to come down. “Hadrian Lily wants to learn how to fly.” Called out Hermione.
Hadrian immediately placed his broom on the ground and said, "It's much safer than the school brooms and Hermione just got it for me so it's brand new. Come on, I'll teach you.”
Lily was shocked at how easily he offered her the broom. Then he noticed the dress and called for Solly, “Solly would you please bring Miss Evans a pair of Hermione’s tights. The long tights that she wears under dresses.”
Solly smiled brightly and disappeared with a pop.
Hermione saw the look of shock on Lily’s face and said, “Have you never seen a house elf?”
Lily shook her head, “I read about them but I've never actually seen one.”
Hadrian smiled at Lily, “House elves rock. They are very powerful even though many purebloods abuse their loyalty. They want nothing more than to serve and cook and clean but many abuse them. We treat our elves like part of the family because they are. They take care of us so we take care of them.”
Lily smiled at their obvious care towards others. The house elf returned and handed her a pair of tights and Hermione gestured for them to go into the next room so she could put it on.
Hadrian taught her how to call the broom while holding his cane. He went up with her on Draco’s broom as she slowly started to get the hang of flying by herself. Hermione gave them both the thumbs up sign when they flew past her.
Hermione released the snitch in her hand and they both dived after it. Lily came really close to catching it and Hermione could hear Hadrian’s laughter as Lily chased him. When they finally came down she started gushing about how fun it was to play. Hadrian wondered if he could turn her into a seeker.
The six of them ate lunch together, telling each other about their day and all the fun they had. Severus and Lily went back home before it got too late. Hermione told them both to write to her and that they could both visit whenever they wanted. The two promised to do so.
***
When Lily left Hermione turned to Hadrian and asked, “How was it meeting her for the first time?”
Hadrian shook his head, “She isn’t my mother Hermione. She is a beautiful teenager that looks a lot like her but she isn’t the same. I like her. She is kind and she is eager to learn things. She’s fierce and wants to explore the world. She has so much to look forward to. She is, however, a really amazing person and I hope to call her friend. She just isn’t my mother.”
Hadrian went upstairs to shower. Hermione looked at Draco and Neville and asked, “Do you think he is being honest or is just trying to spare our feelings?”
Neville shook his head, “I don’t think he would lie. When we get to Hogwarts we are going to spend a lot of time around people who look a lot like our dead friends and family. He knows he can’t hide from that. We have to come to terms with the people here and the fact that they aren’t the people we know.”
“I met my father two days ago, Hermione.” Said Draco and Hermione gaped at him in shock waiting for him to continue. Draco sighed and said, “I went to pick up some alchemy tools. I bumped into him at one of the stores and I didn’t recognize him anymore. When magical children are born we are able to sense our parents' magic.”
Looking at both Neville and Hermione’s expressions he realized that they didn’t know what he was talking about. He gestured for them to sit down. “Nev didn’t grow up around his parents, and Mia, your parents were not magical so you wouldn’t understand. Every person’s magic is different. It's specific to each person like a fingerprint. When a child is born and they have magical parents they are familiar with the magic.”
Draco sighed as he rubbed at his chest, “It's like breathing or when a mother knows that her child is in danger or how a child just knows their parent. Your innate magic recognizes your parents. Nev must have felt something when he went to visit his mom at the hospital.”
Neville nodded his head slowly, “I always knew where she was as soon as I stepped inside. I never needed a guide to find her.”
“The connection would have been stronger if she was stronger. It's hard to describe the feeling. The connection between parent and child, the connection from magic that recognizes each other as mother and son or even father and son is no longer there.”
Draco didn’t say anything while he waited for his siblings to say something. When they didn’t say anything he continued with his theory, “They took it away like they said. If we had come using a time turner or spell or whatever magical means we could find to time travel then the connection would have been there.”
“Are you sure?” asked Neville.
Draco nodded, “Lily would have felt like she knew Hadrian. Hadrian would seek out love and acceptance from his mother but we are no longer their children. The connection is no longer between us because we aren’t of the same bloodline anymore. We do not share their familial magic.”
Hermione nodded, picking up the same train of thought as Draco, “They are just normal people who we have recently begun to befriend. That’s what Death meant by people will look similar but they are different people. Lily has already changed. Lily Evans never played catch the snitch. Now, because of us she has. She enjoyed it and with some practice she might even try out for the team.”
Neville nodded slowly and questioned, “So that means that Hadrian doesn’t see his mother, just someone who looks like her?”
Draco shrugged, “He could be looking at her learning how to play and be reminded of Ginny for all we know. Hadrian never really knew his parents. He only knew what people told him about them. Without the connection of their magic she is honestly just another girl to him.”
Hermione smiled at her siblings. She was relieved because while they had an idea what this future held they knew they could make it better. The more time they spent here, meeting people and influencing them the more things would change.
The last thing they needed was Hadrian to try to find a family in people who were not even married yet. There was a chance that they would never get married. Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed the peace for now. Today was a good day. There were still two and a half months of summer left for them to enjoy before diving back into Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Hadrian and Draco had taken two weeks to complete their map of the timeline. They documented everything that happened including raids and disappearances. Everyone that they knew who had been murdered from the year 1975 up until the year 1981 had been placed on their map.
The two boys knew that Hermione was pulling Severus into her life. She was winding herself around the boy so that she could keep an eye on him. Severus needed to stay on the right path and with Hermione acting as his guide Hadrian was sure everything would work out according to plan.
Lily would come over every other day and usually Hadrian would teach her how to fly. He was currently busy combing through the werewolf laws which were passed back in the year 1895. Someone had been illegally using the Peverell seats to discriminate against them.
It was a nightmare of paperwork to get those laws re-appealed since they technically weren’t legal. There had been quite a few people who had claimed what rightfully belonged to the Peverell family. Neville and the goblins were tracking everything down.
Draco on the other hand was unoccupied. Since Hadrian was busy it fell to him to teach Lily how to fly. He had been spending a lot of time with the pretty witch. Hermione found it cute. Hadrian and Neville were already placing their own bets on who made the first move.
Hadrian was currently dealing with how to present the re-appeal to the other politicians. Neville would be acting as Lord of the Peverell house. Hadrian already gave him the power to vote in his stead.
The Peverell siblings were young, unknown and unallied even though they had a powerful name. Once they re-appealed all the laws there would be a reckoning. Many people were going to be unsettled especially since this would happen while battle lines were being drawn.
They were going to need allies if they wanted to get anything done on the political front. It didn’t help their case that the first thing they would be doing is presenting a list of laws that would have to be re-appealed. They were going to put a hold on any present issues to resolve the past.
Many people on both the light and dark side were using some of those laws to their advantage. This would cause a hold-up on the war since they wouldn’t be able to use the law to move their plans forward. It could be seen as a good thing but the more things changed the less they could predict.
There would be a session just before school opened. Neville would take up the Peverell house and start making allies. They would bide their time before they made their move. They couldn’t just storm in and demand changes without having any support.
Hadrian would be voting in the Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw proxy votes anonymously. They were not yet ready to deal with that drama of those titles being known to the public. All three of the founders' houses were sealed. As such the only thing that would be known was that a sealed house had voted on something. No one would know which houses had returned.
***
Neville was sitting with Hadrian looking over the time line. He had not gotten a chance to look at his brother's work and he had to admit. The map of the timeline was incredibly detailed. However while they had a few notes on what needed to be changed no one had any solid plans for the war just yet.
Neville had to know, “How exactly are you going to pass information to Dumbledore?”
Hadrian smirked, showing his Slytherin side and said, “I was thinking of showing up to one of the Order meetings in my animagus form.”
The four siblings had all become animagus during their time on the run. It saved their asses more times than they could count. Neville was a tiger, Draco was a snake, Hermione was a cat, and Hadrian on the other hand was a phoenix. A beautiful black phoenix with green eyes and red feathers hidden in the black.
Neville nodded his head, “Sounds like a good idea but what are you going to do? Show up in a ball of flames and land on someone, then flame away again?”
Hadrian smiled sheepishly, “Taking a note would be too dangerous. We don’t want them to go looking for a death eater that suddenly had a change of heart and decided to pass information. Someone might take advantage of that.”
Neville nodded his head, “I see your point about it being too dangerous but you also can’t just flame them away. You might get one of them killed if they aren’t ready. Could you try talking to Fawkes? He might be able to communicate with the Headmaster.”
Hadrian nearly face-palmed because that solution was so obvious. Fawkes would be able to help them. He was sure he would be able to talk to the Phoenix in his animagus form. It would ensure that they trusted him more especially since he would show up as a symbol for the light.
Neville hummed for a second and then said, “Why don’t you go visit tonight? Fly to Hogwarts and talk to Fawkes and then leave. Maybe if the Headmaster gets used to seeing another Phoenix around he would trust you more. It would also be a sort of test so we know if we need a new plan.”
***
That night Hadrian flew to Hogwarts and scratched on the Headmaster’s window until the old man opened it. Albus was talking with Minerva McGonagall and Alastor Moody. They were discussing the next school year and the coming war when there was a racket outside his window.
Fawkes woke up and started singing happily. When no one answered the window tapping he started flying around impatiently and knocked on the window as well. He was demanding that his human open the damned window.
“Ordered around by a bloody bird, really Albus.” Huffed Moody.
Albus laughed and replied, “Fawkes is a phoenix. He is here because he wants to be. He knows more than he tells. If he asks for something done then there is always a reason, old friend.”
A ball of black red barreled into the red bird and they both tumbled onto the Headmasters desk. They were both singing and with the younger bird being tucked under the older one's wing.
“Well hello there new friend. Are you here to stay?” asked Albus.
Minerva looked at the younger Phoenix in shock, “Why would he come here Albus? You already have a familiar.”
Albus just chuckled, “He will not stay. He came to visit Fawkes and introduce himself. His name is Hades.”
Moody frowned, “Did the bird tell you that?”
Albus shook his head, “Fawkes told me. He is here to visit and will leave soon. Whether he returns or not I cannot say.”
Moody rolled his eyes and when he moved to leave the bird hopped onto his shoulder and peered at him. “Albus, why is the bird looking at me?” asked Moody.
Hadrian had never seen Moody look so human. He still had both eyes and both legs; he was also less scarred. He owed his life to the paranoid Auror. He had taught him so much and he had died as well.
Hades felt like he owed Moody so he gave Moody the only thing he could in this form. A way to save himself or someone he considered worthy. Maybe the man wouldn’t be so damaged by the end of the war this time. His tears were just as powerful as a regular phoenix.
Albus noticed the bird's eyes begin to water and immediately conjured a vial and held it out to his friend, “He has not deemed me worthy of his tears. You must collect it.” He said quickly.
The Auror held the vial to the bird. He was shocked when the bird gave him six drops of tears. Hades stared at him a moment longer before he went back to cuddling Fawkes.
“What should I do with it?” he asked Albus.
“A Phoenix rarely ever gifts anyone with tears. Usually when they do it's never more than two tears at a time but you have been given six. Keep it with you at all times and tell no one of what it is. Hades believes you will need it.” Replied Albus.
Moody looked strangely at the bird knowing how powerful the tears were especially if someone needed healing. He would not be foolish. If the bird thought he needed it then he probably would and he was going to keep the vial with him at all times. He thanked the bird quietly and left the office before he could be any later for his shift.
***
Hadrian zoned out for a while. He didn’t really have to stay. Fawkes seemed eager to adopt him or something. The older bird enjoyed having someone to play with. He was just about ready to leave when he heard Minerva shout. He looked up to see what the fight was about.
“You let those marauders get away with murder Albus and I’m telling you that you will regret it. They have to be held accountable for their actions and you never allow it.”
“Now Minerva they are just boys. It's all in good fun.” Replied Dumbledore, dismissing her concerns.
Hades huffed and immediately flew up and cuffed the man on his head with his wing.
Minerva smirked in victory, “Even Hades agrees with me. It's not fair to the other students, Albus. Sometimes the things they do are mean and out of control. It could be considered bullying and what will it take to get you to admit that they go too far. Will you wait until they kill Severus Snape?”
Albus narrowed his eyes, “Now that is a dangerous accusation Minerva.”
The witch huffed, “Don’t you look at me like that Albus. You know I’m not wrong. Their pranks towards that boy are getting dangerous. Their pranks in general are getting dangerous. Someone is going to end up hurt and you wish to reward their behavior.”
Albus once more tried to pacify the witch. Potter and Black were both powerful names. They would be needed in the war. He didn’t see the point in not letting them have their fun. However she wouldn’t listen. Both professors were forced to abandon their arguments when Hades hit Albus again. The bird pulled on his beard towards the pensive.
“You want me to view a memory of the marauders' pranks?” questioned Albus.
The bird nodded and Minerva stopped him, “You will not be looking through your rose colored lenses Albus. You will see through my memories.”
They were in the pensive for a long time until Albus came out looking old and worn. “Why didn’t I see it? There are so many looks of disgust from the Slytherins every time I interfere in the punishment. The look of loathing and betrayal from Snape, I failed him haven’t I? He hates me.”
Minerva shook her head sadly at him, “You are a good man Albus. You desperately want to believe in the good of people but the truth is that children can be mean.”
Albus sighed, “They were never mean to me.”
Minerva rolled her eyes, “You were popular in school Albus. You were intelligent and gifted with magic but I was not. I was popular in my later years at Hogwarts once I joined the quidditch team. However, in my first three years I was on the receiving end of some bullying.”
Albus just sighed, “Bullying?”
Minerva looked sadly at the old man in front of him, “Bullying is a serious thing Albus. Children have been known to commit suicide and self-harm due to the treatment of their peers. It’s a serious thing. I know how hard it is but we cannot condone this any longer. Many people will turn to the Dark Lord simply for revenge for their treatment condoned by this school and you.”
Albus looked at her in real fear, “I never looked at it that way.”
“I know you don’t want to push the Heir Potter and Black away. You want their help in the coming years in the war. However you cannot isolate one fourth of the school for two people. None of the Slytherins would ever come to any of us for help when you have never helped them before.” Replied Minerva.
There was silence for a long time until Minerva picked up the prefect list once more, “Remus Lupin cannot be the fifth year prefect. He doesn’t stop them and a badge will not help. In fact it would make it worse. We will not reward their behavior anymore.”
“There are no other fifth year Gryffindor boys to be prefects this year Minerva.” Replied Albus even though he knew she was right.
“Then we shall choose two girls. It hasn’t happened in some time but we shall choose two female prefects this year.” Replied Minerva, still holding strong.
***
Hadrian flew away without sticking around to hear the rest of the conversation. When he landed in the library back home his siblings were waiting for him. Hadrian turned back and explained everything that happened. Then he said, “I don’t get why it was so easy to get him to see what they were doing was wrong. He saw it every day for seven years.”
Hermione sighed, “Dumbledore likes to believe in the good of people, Hadrian. He probably never paid a lot of attention to the people on the receiving end of the prank. He only looked at the students and saw that they were laughing and having fun.”
Neville agreed with Hermione, “Dumbledore never understood bullying. He never understood the humiliation and how it eats at someone’s self-worth. He was popular in school. He doesn’t understand what it's like to be bullied and the consequences of those feelings. Professor McGonagall probably forced him to see things how she saw it. She forced him to see the other side.”
Neville nodded but Draco sighed, “This changes things already. Lupin was supposed to be a prefect but he isn’t anymore. Dumbledore is looking at them differently, probably going to punish them more severely. We don’t know how that changes the time line.”
Neville shrugged, “Hogwarts was always going to change. We assured that with just our presence. We know the diadem is in Hogwarts. The ring is in the Gaunt shack. The dairy was given to Abraxas Malfoy when Tom Riddle first left Britain. The cup was given to Bellatrix Lestrange as a wedding present which she placed in her vault. The locket was hidden in the cave.”
Hermione nodded, “We can start collecting the horcruxes next year. We’ll leave them where they are in case he checks up on them. If we manage to save Regulus the only thing that changes is which house elf he uses to get to the cave. We just have to figure out what happens next on our own. Our plans are already in place.”
***
The siblings nodded to each other and they all went back to their projects. Severus and Hermione were working on several new spells to combat the dark curses. Hermione knew there were many spells that had no cure, not even in their time.
Severus’s interest in Dark Arts would always be there and Hermione was using that interest to do some good in the world. Lily saw how they broke down the dark curses and created new spells to undo the damage it caused. She couldn’t find it in herself to have them stop after all one cannot fight against what they do not know.
Lily knew that it would also be incredibly selfish to ask them to stop. These curses had no cure. There would be people who could die if they were hit with these curses. She didn’t like the fact that Severus knew all this but she couldn’t obliviate the knowledge from his mind either. At least he was putting the knowledge to good use.
Draco and Lily spent their time either flying or experimenting with potions and charms. Lily and Severus spent a lot of time devouring the books and learning everything they could. The four siblings had become good friends with the two friends and included them into their group effortlessly.
The summer passed with flying, experimenting, plotting and everything else in between. Lily and Hermione had spent some girl time together. The four boys had gone camping for a weekend. While the Peverell siblings knew that they had a lot of planning to do for the war, they couldn’t help but want to enjoy the summer.
They had so many memories in their heads. They sometimes felt like adults trapped in a teenager's body. However they also felt young again as well. It was weird not knowing how old they truly were. None of them were the same people anymore. Living this life now had given them a new lease on life itself.
All four siblings wanted to live happily. They didn’t want any regrets. They wanted to have friends, to fall in love and make memories. They were going to fight a war. They had spent most of their lives in a war zone. Now all they wanted was to live life to the fullest. There wasn’t much they could do this summer so they made time to be teenagers again.
Severus had all but moved into Peverell manor. His parents didn’t care where he was as long as he didn’t get into trouble. Severus was actually looking healthier. He ate constantly over the summer which meant that he put on some weight. He spent some time in the sun so he wasn’t as pale anymore. He had generally taken care of himself this summer.
It wasn’t long until they needed to go shopping for Hogwarts. There were about five days left until school opened. Then they would finally return to Hogwarts. A place that was once a home and a sanctuary to many until it too had fallen. They all had many fixed feelings about going back but they all knew that they would have to go back. Their plans depended on it.
***
Hermione still got a few spasms now and then. Hadrian was still walking with his cane but they were both almost completely better. When they decided to finally go to Diagon Alley for their supplies there was a sense of anticipation that raced through them all.
Hadrian was waiting by the floo in the Leaky Cauldron. He apparated over to Diagon Ally earlier than the others and now he was stuck waiting for the rest of their group to floo over.
He shifted his weight onto the cane a little bit more when the floo spit out James Potter and Sirius Black.
The two boys had probably gotten into a fight at Potter manor. They stumbled into the floo and ended up in the Leaky Cauldron. James had come stumbling out first. Sirius had tried to get him back into a headlock and they both lost their footing.
Hadrian somehow managed to get caught up in the middle of it. Hadrian landed on the bottom, with Sirius on top of him and James on top of both of them.
Hadrian sighed, he wasn’t even the one who came out of the blasted thing and it was still out to get him.
James Potter readjusted his glasses as a dark haired, green eyed boy elegantly landed in the floo. He exited it without a single hair out of place. The stranger looked around the bar in confusion when turned back to the floo and waited probably for someone else to come through.
There was a shout and a girl came flying out of the floo and landed next to him on the floor. She was wearing robes and her red hair was splayed out behind her. James immediately realized she was Lily Evans the love of his life.
“Lily-flower don’t worry I’ll help you.” James shouted and several people looked over.
They had ignored the three teens who landed in a tangle of arms and legs but they looked over when he started shouting. James could hear Padfoot sigh. He was about to say something else when a hand cut in front of him, reached down and pulled Lily to her feet.
The boy immediately turned her around and ran his fingers through her hair and began braiding it quickly. When he was done he waved his hand and cleaned her robes and he said, “Three months and you still can’t floo properly. Hadrian never managed to get spit out of the floo. How could you manage a landing that horrible?”
James watched as his jaw dropped as Lily rubbed some soot off the stranger's cheek. The soot probably got there from her hair and replied, “I guess I just need more practice.”
Another boy who looked a lot like the boy with his paws over his Lily-flower appeared and sighed, “If the two of you are done flirting can someone tell me what happened to Hadrian? Did he manage to get lost in the floo again?”
Remus who quietly entered through the door stood in the corner watching in amusement. James gaped at Evans and Sirius seemed to be comfortable on the floor. He was watching what seemed to be a train wreck in the making when they all heard a muffled sound. “I was twelve and mispronounced the place. You guys have got to let that one go. Could someone get this bloody mutt off of me? I can’t breathe.”
The boy near the floo who no one noticed had arrived face-palmed. While the boy holding Lily rolled his eyes and muttered, “You didn’t even use the floo and it still managed to injure you.”
Lily rolled her eyes and said, “Black would you get off of my friend before you suffocate him?”
Sirius leaped to his feet and muttered apologies. He was barely keeping from blushing. He realized that the other boy would probably be cuddling him on his lap if his hands were not trapped underneath him.
Hadrian got to his feet, picked up his cane and leaned on it heavily. Lily immediately noticed, “Did those idiots manage to injure you Hadrian? You’re leaning quite heavily on your cane.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes at her, “Just knocked the wind out of me. I’m fine. In another month the cane will be gone as well. Where is Mia? I swear if those two are snogging somewhere I’ll kill him.”
Lily giggled and rolled her eyes, “Please, those two are so oblivious to the sexual tension in the room they aren’t getting together until next summer.”
One of the boys muttered to Hadrian not realizing that James, Sirius and Remus could hear them say, “If those two are oblivious then those two are bloody blind.”
Hadrian chuckled, “Five galleons he figures out by New Year.”
The other shook his head, “Nah, five galleons she gets sick of waiting and kisses him before New Year.”
Hadrian nodded and they shook hands, “You’re on.”
James was nearly purple in rage until the floo opened up again and this time a girl came out with someone who looked familiar.
Sirius looked at the boy and the fact that he was holding the girl's hand in horror and he said, “Snivellus?”
Severus had been smiling until he heard that horrid name and he felt Hermione stiffen next to him, before he could reply she did. “No Severus as in Severus Snape who is here accompanying my siblings and I. The one that you cannot look at without blushing is Hadrian Peverell. The boy standing next to him is Neville Peverell and holding Lily is Draco Peverell. Dray, why are you holding Lily?”
Draco blushed and quickly let go, “I was braiding her hair. They had an accident with the floo.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and looked towards the marauders who were missing a member, “I am Hermione. I would say it was nice meeting you boys but it wasn’t. Mr. Black can you please stop eye fucking my brother in public? Not only am I aware of your bed hopping but I also know very well what a bully you are. My brother is more likely to duel you than fuck you.”
Sirius went red with rage, “What do you know?”
Hermione gave him a bored look, “I know my brother doesn’t go for pathetic little boys. People like you have to tear down other people to make themselves look better. Then again you really live up to your family name Black.”
Sirius growled at her, “I am nothing like them.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, “Really? They like tearing down people who are weaker than them. People whose blood status they have deemed inferior. We shouldn’t be surprised by the Black that tears down Slytherins and anyone else he doesn’t like. You do it because you have the power to do so. Your mother must be so proud.”
Neville rolled his eyes, “Go for the throat, why don’t you?”
Hadrian huffed and Hermione just rolled her eyes, “Severus has taken enough abuse. I will not hold anything back. They’re just petty little bullies and I don’t see a problem with pointing that out.”
Hermione guided the group outside and hoped that Sirius understood what she was trying to tell him. In his teenage years and his desperate rebellion Sirius Black still managed to become everything he hated. Instead of being like dear cousin Bella who tortured muggleborns, he tore down Slytherins.
He became so desperate to prove he was against everything dark that he made it his life’s mission to make the Slytherins miserable. She knew he wasn’t a bad person at heart. He just had a lot of growing up to do. This war was coming and she didn’t have time to sugar coat the truth. He needed to grow up.
Hermione would never take it back either. The truth was that if his mother had known how he tortured and humiliated those he considered his enemies she would have been very proud of him.
The truth was an ugly, cold, cruel thing. There was nothing she could do. He had to face up the consequences of his actions and he needed to do it sooner rather than later.
***
Sirius Black on the other hand wanted to slap his hand over his ears and deny the truth. However, he couldn’t do it because once the truth was out there was nothing that could be done. He could hear her words echo in his ears. Her voice and her words were something that he would never be able to forget.
He knew that if his mother knew how he treated those that he considered enemies then she would have been proud of him. Suddenly everything that he was doing to prove that he wasn’t like his family went up in flames. He was exactly like them.
He was cruel and merciless to those who were weaker than him. Sirius Black had never been more ashamed and the truth had come from a stranger. A stranger that knew him better than he knew himself. He wanted to deny it. To overlook her words like he had done to so many others but he couldn’t. No one had ever put his actions out there like this.
She had clearly stated why he acted out so much. No one in Hogwarts had ever dared to mention his family in his presence before. No one had the courage to compare their actions so plainly. Slytherins would never compare him to his family members. Not if they wanted to survive.
The Black family was well-known for their distaste towards their eldest child. No one would ever dare accuse them of being similar to each other. He had never realized his actions had been so in tune with his family’s ruthlessness until she pointed it out to him. Once you have seen the truth you could never pretend to be oblivious ever again.
James desperately tried to get Sirius to believe that what the witch said wasn’t true. That she was wrong and that Sirius shouldn’t listen to a word she said. Sirius had not said anything since she left. He just stood there in silence. James ushered him to a table and tried to get his friend to respond.
James even offered to prank her hoping that Sirius would want to get revenge on her. Sirius finally started listening to James. He had gone off on a rant explaining how those siblings would regret everything that they said.
Sirius wondered how blind James could possibly be and how long he was going to play ignorant.
He even started thinking up pranks for Draco Peverell because he touched his precious Lily- flower. When he heard that bloody nickname Sirius nearly decked him. “She isn’t yours Prongs.” Said Sirius.
Sirius was tired. He was sick of listening to James go on and on about the perfect Lily Evans. He was tired of trying to get his friend to see that the witch didn’t care about him. He had no idea why James was so obsessed with that witch. There were so many other girls that actually liked him but all Evans ever did was treat his best friend terribly and James wouldn’t shut up about her.
Sirius was tired of fighting against his own family so much. He felt far older than his actual age in that moment. He wished he could go back to the ignorance that James still possessed.
Sirius’s declaration had been met with silence from James. It was the first time one of his friends had ever told James the truth. They always supported his claims that Lily would one day be his simply because it was what he believed. James was their friend. It was their duty to be on his side. They were supposed to support him but Sirius just couldn’t do that right now.
No one ever told him what he needed to hear. He couldn't just claim someone because he wanted them. It was the first time that Sirius actually went against him instead of encouraging him. James was so shocked that someone had disagreed with him that he fell silent.
Sirius never really liked Lily Evans but James did so he never spoke out about it. He didn’t want to fight with his best friend over a girl but now with everything that he had just heard he just wanted James to stop with his obsession with Evans. He could pick someone else, anyone else. Maybe he could pick someone that actually cared about him.
“She’ll come around Padfoot, you know she will.” Replied James after some awkward silence but he seemed less sure of himself. Sirius knew that this was going to hurt and that it was time they went home.
They flooed to Potter manor and Sirius looked at his friend and sighed, “She won’t James. Lily Evans hates you. She tells you every day that you shouldn’t talk to her. She says that you are nothing to her but an arrogant bullying toe rag. She would rather date the giant squid than date you. She isn’t bluffing. She hates when you bring attention to her. It embarrasses her and she doesn’t like you.”
Sirius was trying not to say anything bad about her. James wouldn't listen if he thought that Sirius was just pointing out her flaws. Instead he would try to defend her and then they would fight. Instead tried to make James understand why she didn't like him. He hoped that the stubborn ass finally left well enough alone.
James tried to tell him that she would come around and Sirius asked him, “Would you go out with someone who calls me names, puts potions in my food and embarrasses me at every opportunity?”
James looked horrified at him as he said no and Sirius asked him, “If you won’t then why should Lily Evans date the boy that bullies her best friend? Severus Snape has known her since before Hogwarts and you constantly belittle him that’s why she hates you.”
James looked like a lost little boy when everything had been pointed out to him like that. For once in his life he didn’t know what to say. Sirius didn't like Snape but he could understand that Evans was loyal to her friends. She considered Snape her friend. She would not befriend or even pretend to like someone who belittled and taunted her best friend.
Remus watched as James Potter finally took a look in the mirror. For the first time he didn’t like what he saw. In fact he was actually ashamed of the person he was. If that was how Lily had seen him, how did other people see him? Was he popular because people liked him or was he popular because no one wanted to get pranked by them?
***
Potter manor was quiet for the first time in a long time. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter watched their sons and his friends eat dinner quietly. None of them were saying a word. They wondered what had happened in a single day to make such a drastic change in them.
Later on James and Sirius spoke to them and told them of what happened. Euphemia looked so disappointed in them. “We always spoiled you James especially since we had you so late. You were our miracle but we never realized that the lack of barriers had made you believe that you were somehow entitled to whatever you wanted. It seems like you’ve gotten your wake up call. You cannot undo the mistakes of the past children. All you can do is realize your faults and try to do better.”
The two boys silently agreed to try and be better. James was once so sure that he was destined to marry Lily he decided to leave her alone for a while. He had already blown his chance with her. Maybe someday they could be friends but for now the two boys needed more self-control.
Fleamont gave Sirius a book on occlumency, “The Black family has always had temper problems. This will help you control your emotions and your actions. You need to be less reckless and think more about the consequences of your actions.”
Sirius quietly thanked the man and went to bed dreaming of green eyes.

Chapter Text

Neville Peverell was exhausted. The past summer had been exhausting. He had gone through four gutted houses sorting through the financials and properties. The laws which were passed via proxy without permission had taken over two months. The only breaks he had gotten were when Lily and Severus were around.
Severus Snape had once terrified him. The man had even been his boggart at one point in his life. However looking at his younger self, the nearly fifteen year old boy was nothing like the man he had once known. None of these people were the people he had known.
Severus was no longer weighed down by guilt and sorrow nor was he angry and bitter. His tongue was still sharp but then again he wouldn’t be Severus if he didn’t have a biting tongue.
The best part about watching him was watching him gravitate around Hermione. They were both so bloody blind to the obvious however Neville knew that Hermione was probably holding herself back a little. Her first love would always be Ron Weasley. He had died and when he died Hermione had turned cold and ruthless.
As time passed and their situation grew to be more hopeless she just seemed to bury the pain until he became just another lost friend. Neville was sure she had never forgotten. She never truly had a chance to mourn what they had either.
None of them were strangers to pain. They had each lost their blood family. Everyone they had ever known and loved had been lost in that godforsaken war. Now he had to wonder if any of them dealt with the grief? Would returning to Hogwarts tomorrow open up wounds that they believed to be closed? Was it even fair of them to be so happy in these times?
“You’re thinking so hard I can hear the gears in your head turning Neville.”
Neville turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway of his office with an eyebrow raised. Her expression basically screamed ‘what are you thinking?’ Neville gave her a half-hearted smile and he knew that he couldn’t lie to her. At one point in their lives they had both been the Gryffindor outcasts. Those first few lonely months in Hogwarts Hermione had been his only friend or at least sort of friend. They sat next to each other and did homework together sometimes. They both felt like they didn’t fit into the house of Lions.
Then she got attacked by a troll and became attached to the hip of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. It hadn't been much of a friendship but there was a time when they were the only friends they had. There had been moments even after she had become one third of the golden trio that they understood each other.
“Are we really ready for this?” he asked her.
Hermione joined him. They were looking out at the window and at the stars in the sky. Everything here seemed so much more peaceful than they were accustomed to. Sometimes they each woke up screaming at different times in the night and she knew just how much more he was actually asking her.
“None of us have forgotten the past, Nev. I don’t think that we will ever really be able to forget. The ones that love us never really leave us. I don’t think we could forget even if we wanted to. We had so much to do all summer that we never stopped to just breathe and think. Now on the eve of our return, all we have is time to think.”
Neville drew her into his arms and said, “It was nice though, being normal for a little while. We were not running for our lives but just eating, sleeping and recovering. We even made some friends. It was like we were just four normal teenagers.”
Hermione gave a dry laugh, “We were never normal Nev. The ‘Golden Trio’ may have been in the middle of all the adventures but the school especially those in our year quickly got used to the strange things that happened. We adapted quite quickly to danger and we survived.”
Neville half chuckled-half sighed and replied, “You do realize that he is half way in love with you already.”
Neville said it as a statement. He knew that Hermione would know what he was talking about. It was up to her what she did with the information but Hermione had never been stupid. She had to know that he looked at her like she was the only person in his world. While she looked at him like he hung the moon.
“You always admired his intelligence even when he was our Professor. You may not have liked him and he definitely wasn’t handsome but he was intelligent and witty. He challenged you and you thrived on it. Now he still does those things and you still like it.”
Hermione nodded her head, “Do you think Ron would understand?”
Neville smiled at her this time, “Ron would never have understood. He had the emotional range of a teaspoon but he would be happy that you were happy. He never needed to understand, just needed to know that you were happy.”
Hermione laughed. She couldn’t believe that he remembered her saying that all those years ago and she said, “We all remember Nev but we can change it. The people we knew will grow up and get married. They’ll grow old with more than one child surrounded by many grandchildren and everything will be okay. We will always mourn for those we have lost but we cannot live in the past. We have to work through it. We have to make it through this no matter how much it hurts.”
Neville nodded his head, “I needed to hear someone say that Mia.”
“The war may not be happening exactly as we remember it but we still remember it. I just choose to focus on the fact that everyone is still alive here. If I try to look for the people that I lost in the people here who have never struggled a day in their life I might just pull my hair out.” Said Draco and Hermione giggled.
“At least I wasn’t the only one who was worried about going back to Hogwarts.” Hadrian was leaning next to the door frame listening to Hermione and Neville.
Draco shook his head, “We’re all nervous. It was easy for us to be here at home with Lily and Sev. We are able to just forget or bury ourselves in our work. We managed to forget about the outside world but we can’t do that anymore.”
Hadrian just sighed and pulled Draco close to him and muttered, “No one ever said it would be easy but nothing is ever easy. We will do what we always do. We endure and then we survive.”
The group slept together in Hadrian’s bed. A puppy pile of reassurance that they were there together and everything was going to be alright. It had been a long time since they had truly prepared for battle.
It had been a long time since they had needed to use masks and lie. They would have to face people that looked like enemies and not curse them. They would see their friends that had long since passed in people that did not recognize them.
It would be hard. They would look at people and know that they died in painful ways. There were some who they had personally failed and others who had betrayed them and others who paid the price of that betrayal. It would not be easy. It wasn’t even fair. However as long as they had each other they knew they would be alright. Their time for rest and recovery was over. Now they prepared for war.
***
The Quadruplets were running late. They had overslept and ended up late getting to the train. They shrunk their trunks, stashed it in their pockets and ran for their lives. Once on the train, they immediately set off to find Lily and Sev. Hermione found Sev alone in a compartment reading a book.
“Hey Sev. What happened to Lily?” asked Draco.
Severus gave Hermione the look which basically screamed ‘he fancies her.’ Hermione rolled her eyes at him and waited for him to answer.
“She’s in the prefects meeting Draco. She’ll come back later.” He replied.
Severus looked good. His uniform was all new even though it wasn’t anything fancy or expensive. It fit him in all the right places and there were no stains, no tears or shoddy patchwork. His shoes were polished and new. His trunk was second hand again but a much better quality than his original one. All in all he seemed much happier and more at peace with himself.
The boys played exploding snap and ate candy while Sev and Mia debated and read their books. Lily joined them halfway through the journey. Hadrian was a little surprised that James and his friends didn’t show up and cause trouble.
Once the train came to a stop the Peverell siblings decided to ride the carriages up to the castle. They were not willing to take their chances in those tiny boats. They already knew that they were going to be sorted last, after the first years.
Hermione caught their eyes and nodded her head. They had already planned where they were going to be placed and what they were going to do. After some time they heard Professor McGonagall call for them to enter the Great Hall.
“Peverell Neville.”
Neville nodded his head to his siblings and walked up to the hat.
“Gryffindor.”
It shouted and the house of lions exploded in applause. Dumbledore seemed pleased at the sorting since historically Peverell’s were typically Gryffindor’s.
“Peverell Draco.”
Draco confidently walked up to the hat and put it on.
“Slytherin.”
There was dead silence from the house of Lions. Honestly it seemed like the Slytherins didn’t know what to do about the placement either. Dumbledore had a calculating gleam in his eyes as he stared at the two brothers. Neville rolled his eyes and clapped first prompting everyone else to applaud. Hadrian pretended that he didn’t notice the Headmaster's interest.
“Peverell Hermione.”
Hermione smiled at Severus and put the hat on. Several professors including McGonagall and Dumbledore noticed the exchange. Some of the students noticed it as well. Snape was not someone that people usually took interest in unless it was to target him.
“Ravenclaw.”
Lily clapped happily for her friend. She ignored the strange look on Sirius’s face as the two exchanged their knowing glances. Then Professor McGonagall called out for the last sibling.
“Peverell Hadrian.”
It took the hat a few minutes until it called out its answer.
“Hufflepuff.”
The siblings each sat down at their respective tables and smiled. Everything went according to plan. It was Hermione’s idea to have each of them in one of the houses especially because Tom recruited people from every house. They needed eyes and ears everywhere.
***
Hadrian couldn’t go to Slytherin or Gryffindor. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know James Potter as his father but he knew that the marauders would rub him the wrong way. The boys were still young and they were too nosey for their own good.
If the marauders were always around then they would constantly watch him. Hadrian would be disappointed in them as they all knew that they were still immature. He didn’t want to be close to them yet. Hadrian wanted to gradually become their friend and not be thrust into their lives.
Hadrian would probably kill several people from Slytherin without thinking. He could have gone to Ravenclaw but Hermione was a better fit for the house. It was best he go to Hufflepuff where no one would bother him too much. He could also charm his curtains and stalk the Order without nosey roommates keeping a close eye on him.
Draco knew how Slytherin worked best so it was best to put him in it. Neville would be able to get the marauders on a leash without having to deal with personal demons. Their placements were not personality based but rather strategic movements.
Neville sat next to Lily and watched as she introduced him to her friends, Marlene McKinnon, Mary McDonald and Emmaline Vance. Neville recognized Emmaline from the Order but he never knew that she schooled with Lily. The pretty blonde girl then introduced him to Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.
Peter was nothing like the rat faced man he had once seen in his brother's memories. He had sandy blonde hair and brown eyes. He was good looking enough in a boyish way. In fact Peter reminded Neville a lot of himself back before when he doubted himself and his worth.
Neville decided that he would befriend the boy first. He was more than some shadow to the marauders. Peter had to have something that he was good at. The hat placed in Gryffindor form a reason and instead of becoming a weak minded minion Neville was determined to see the man roar.
While everyone else seemed to talk over the boy Neville held out his hand, “Hello Peter my name is Neville.” Peter smiled at him shyly and shook his hand. Neville could see him already going back into his shell and narrowed his eyes and asked, “Who’s your favorite Professor?”
Peter was shocked that the new boy was talking to him. Usually everyone else usually overlooked him. James and Sirius drew so much attention it was easy for him to be left in the shadow of the two other boys. It was nice to be seen and heard. “Professor Aubrey, she is the divination Professor.”
Neville was shocked. He knew that Peter was not as magically talented as his friends but he never knew that he had an interest in divination. It always seemed like such a worthless subject unless you had the gift. Divination had many branches and not even people with the same blood line had the same ability. All in all it was a very imprecise branch of magic.
“You like Divination? I never really believed in it. It seemed to be so imprecise and everyone always says that unless you have the gift then you can’t learn it.” Replied Neville, trying to keep the conversation going. He could already see Peter drawing into himself again.
Peter shook his head, “The subject can’t be taught, not in the sense that if you look into a crystal ball you will be able to tell the future. To be able to really see things you have to have the gift. My grandmother had the sight. It was very weak but she did have it. She told me looking into the future is worthless.”
Neville actually felt lost, “Isn’t that the point of the subject? To be able to see the future?”
Peter shook his head, “The future is always subject to change. Once it's seen people will change their decisions and make different choices rendering what has been seen worthless. A prophecy will come true no matter what you do and not in the way that you expect. You can look into the past and see the present.”
People usually didn’t pay attention when Peter spoke. Now several people including James heard Peter explain his fascination with Divination. It was something that the rest of them never bothered to learn about because everyone knew that it didn’t work right. The fact that it wasn’t something that could be learned was common knowledge.
Lily overheard and couldn’t help but ask, “If you cannot be taught to see the future how can you see the past?”
Peter blushed at having someone as pretty as Lily Evans give him her full attention. He noticed that other people were listening as well, “When you hear people refer to the inner eye, what they mean is the third eye located at the center of the forehead. People blessed by magic can use their inner eye to see the future but those who do not have the gift can learn to harness the third eye.”
Peter pointed to the place above his eyebrows in the center of his forehead, “You connect to your magical core through various mediations. You become in essence a spirit-like form and with enough training you can learn to use your innate magic on an object or person to read them.”
Lily frowned, “What do you mean read them?”
Peter shrugged, “Supposedly you can see their past or their intentions. It's similar to being physic or getting good or bad vibes from someone. If you get really good at it then you can learn to match the magic in an object to read its past so find out how it came to be.”
Several jaws dropped with the information and Mary asked, “Why don’t we learn how to do that?”
Peter shrugged, “That’s the reason Divination is taught at Hogwarts but we have a teacher that isn’t able to reach her inner eye. She has seer blood which makes her focus on her own gifts. She isn’t teaching the subject right because she didn’t learn how to do it. She discusses the theories of it with me when she has time but there are almost no books on it.”
Lily looked put out, “How come there are no books on it? Everything I’ve seen about Divination in the library is all about tea leaves and crystal balls.”
Peter nodded his head, “During the witch trials before the statue of secrecy went up many magical libraries and books were lost. Most of the information on divination has been lost for a long time now. It’s a dying art not because there are no seers being born but because no one has managed to relearn the art. There might be books in the family vaults of really old families but only if they had a seer.”
Neville had his mask up. The polite smile and nod mask while everyone was talking but inside he was freaking out. Peter had so much potential and he was trying to relearn a dying art form. No one had ever known, no one had ever cared that the shy boy was actually willing to learn something that no one had ever heard off.
Peter said something about old families and he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. No one knew how or when Peter had been lured to the Dark side. It was possible that they offered him books on divination. It would have started out as a small favor. No one knew what Peter had known which meant that they probably just gave him the books thinking that they were useless. At the same time Peter owed them because they helped him when no one else would. He would have felt indebted and then eventually terrified into accepting the mark.
Neville needed to be the first person who helped him. It would ensure that Peter didn’t have a reason to accept anything from anyone who was recruiting. He also knew just what to offer Peter.
“Peter, have you heard of occlumency?” asked Neville.
The boy nodded his head, “I know it’s the art of shielding the mind but I don’t know much else.”
Neville nodded, “It discusses several mediation techniques and explains how to reach your core. Maybe if you learn that you can figure out how to reach your inner eye.”
Peter smiled at Neville brightly and asked, “Could you teach me?”
Neville could have just given him a book but if he offered to work with him then he would get the chance to spend more time with him. It would give him the chance to know him better and he could try to teach the cub to roar.
Neville agreed to show him and then he said, “Maybe you should start writing a book. Since so much has been lost maybe you can write a book explaining the differences on what Divination is supposed to be about. When you learn how to do it then you can teach other people.”
Peter got really excited but then he shook his head, “I don’t do well with written things.”
Neville tugged on Remus, “Everyone knows how smart Remus is. Explain everything to him and have him write the book logically. Hermione can go on and on about stuff and none of us understand it but Hadrian summarizes and explains the gist of it. You lecture and he can write it out. Then you can publish it and split the profits.”
Remus looked scared and said, “I don’t think people would want to read something written by me.”
James and Sirius rolled their eyes at the man. He was so ashamed of being a werewolf he was sure if people found out then they wouldn’t even want to read the book. Something that Peter would probably put a lot of effort in creating.
Neville just shrugged and pretended he didn’t know the reason Remus was so afraid, “Then put it under a pen name, something like John Remus or something. If you don’t want the attention of being known as an author you can publish it like that.”
***
Lily and Mary were both confused to see that they had the prefects badge. Instead of causing problems at the feast both girls escorted the first years and Neville to the tower. They waited for Professor McGonagall to come to them knowing that she would have an explanation.”
The stern woman walked into the tower and she saw the two girls waiting in the common room, seemingly confused. “I know you’re all wondering why there are two female Gryffindor prefects this year for the fifth years. The headmaster and I agreed that there are no fifth year boys who can be trusted to handle the responsibility.”
The marauders put their heads down and avoided the gazes of everyone in the room as she continued, “The four that we have presently have proven to be immature and reckless. As such we will not be rewarding their behavior. We will watch Mr. Peverell and if he proves himself then we shall grant him the badge next year. The two girls we have chosen I wish you well and I hope you are able to work well together.”
That night when everyone was settling into bed James was looking in the mirror and he sighed. Professor McGonagall had always been kind to them. He knew that she liked them but he also knew that she always scolded them for their pranks. Especially towards Snape but then Dumbledore would wave her off and she would leave in a huff. He used to be so happy now he was even more miserable.
His parents told him to do better but seeing the look of disappointment on the Professor’s face made it really hit home that the things they did really did have consequences. James knew that he and Sirius didn’t want to be prefects. They both knew that Remus would have liked it. He would have done a good job and the only reason he didn’t get the position was because Remus joined them. He also never stopped them. He was being punished for their actions.
James got into bed and buried himself under the covers no longer sure how sure he was of the person he was. He ruined one of his friends' chances at being a prefect. It wasn’t something that he would have wanted or been good at; he knew that Remus would have been proud to fill the role.
His other friend Peter felt like a stranger since James didn’t know anything about him. It was true that James' best friend was Sirius. The two of them connected on the train and they had always been very close, almost like brothers.
Then they met Remus. They knew he was the only reason they managed to do their homework and avoided a lot of trouble was because of Remus. His discipline and slightly mothering nature ensured that they didn’t completely fool around during the year. Remus also helped them be more compassionate to other people even though he couldn’t get them to stop picking on the Slytherins. His condition opened their eyes to a part of the world that they knew existed but never really saw. They had learned to become animagi, something that they finally perfected a week before school could open but Peter was always just there.
They never really connected with Peter. They knew his birthday and they included him in everything they did but they also dismissed him and didn’t really listen to him either. Peter was shy and quiet while Remus had more of a presence and with a raised eyebrow Remus somehow managed to make you feel like an idiot. Peter just disappeared into the shadows and James wondered how he could call himself Peter’s friend when he knew next to nothing about the boy.
James always saw himself as popular, handsome and rich. He was sure that he was a good person but now really thinking about himself and his actions he realized that he was a pretty shitty friend. Evans was right about him; he was self-absorbed and arrogant.
He never paid any attention to the people around him unless it made him look better. That itself made him feel three inches tall. It made him realize how self-centered he was and he knew that if he had met himself then he wouldn’t have liked himself. Why would Lily Evans who cared about everyone around her want to date someone as self-centered as James Potter?
He always thought of Snape as some sort of monster hiding the Princess away from him but Lily was always so happy when she saw Snape. She smiled at him and hugged him and treated him like someone would treat their little brother or their best friend.
The truth would always be that Lily hated him because he was cruel to her best friend. Snape wasn’t some sort of monster that was keeping her from him. Snape was her friend and she chose to spend her time with him and that was probably the crux of the matter.
James Potter had never been snubbed and Lily Evans had snubbed him. She chose Severus Snape over him. She was his friend and wanted nothing to do with him and as someone who had never been told no he had seen it as some sort of challenge.
James shook his head in disgust; Lily wasn’t a trophy. She was a person with thoughts and feelings and she didn’t deserve to be seen as some sort of challenge. James decided that Snape was no longer his enemy. He wasn’t a friend either. He was just another boy in the school.
James was determined to stay as far away from him as possible. Snape didn’t deserve their pranks and until he did something that deserved retaliation then they were done targeting him.

Chapter Text

Hadrian Peverell made friends with Amelia Bones and a pretty brunette named Alicia Meadows. Alicia was a pureblood but Hadrian never knew her. She didn’t look familiar so he assumed that she probably didn’t survive the war or fled and never returned. His dorm mates were nice enough although he didn’t think he would be spending a lot of time with them.
He was rooming with Will Fawley, Rick Roland, and Michal Smyth, a pureblood, half-blood, and muggleborn respectively. The three boys were good friends and they were friendly enough. They spoke of their summers and told him about all the professors. Some of them he knew and some he had no idea about. All in all they weren’t bad people. He could have been stuck with worse.
None of them really worried him too much though. If he was quiet they were happy to fill the silence and let him comment now and then. It was perfect. They weren’t too clingy but they were also welcoming enough not to completely freeze him out.
It was exactly what he had been hoping for when he chose to be placed in Hufflepuff. Unlike the lions who would always be up in his business or the snakes that would watch his every move, his roommates were happy to just let him be. He could come and go and no one would pay much attention.
The Hufflepuff dorm was not somewhere he had been before but it was a good experience. The house was done in earth tones and it had a homey feel to it. It was warmer than the dungeons and it was plenty comfortable. He wouldn’t mind spending more time here.
Hadrian charmed his curtains closed and told his dorm mates he was going to bed. They were still chatting when he started closing his curtains. Hadrian claimed that everything was a little overwhelming and he was tired. They didn’t pry, wished him a goodnight and let him be.
Hadrian smiled to himself and flamed away to the Headmasters office. It was going to be easier than he expected to keep his dorm mates from wondering where he went all the time.
***
Dumbledore was gone and he knew that there would be an attack tonight. The Turpin family would be killed. He was unsure whether or not the family was going to join the Order however they were a family that usually leaned towards the neutral light side.
Their son had graduated from Hogwarts three years ago and he was planning his wedding. His parents, the son and future daughter-in-law would all die in the attack. Dumbledore didn’t know because there was no Snape passing on information.
Tom always had a flare for dramatics. He liked to ruin happy occasions. The starting of Hogwarts in one lifetime had been colored in the blood of the innocent but this time things had changed. Hadrian would not let him get away with murdering another family.
Hadrian asked Fawkes to take him to Dumbledore since he had no idea where the Order was currently being housed. The birds appeared in a ball of fire with Fawkes going to his chosen human and the younger Phoenix flying around trying to get an idea of who was here.
He recognized the Prewett brothers, Fabien and Gideon Prewett. They had been killed by death eaters a few years from now. He noticed Alastor Moody, Minerva McGonagall and several other people he honestly couldn’t name.
He flew around a little more until he noticed someone that almost made him fly into a window. It was Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. The man looked like an older James with brown eyes. The woman next to him had the same cheekbones that he had in one life. They would have been his grandparents in another life.
They were probably in Potter Manor. He couldn’t be sure but they were at the center of the room. He caught someone thanking them for allowing them to come here so he assumed that this was Potter Manor.
Hades decided to nest himself in Moody’s hair and wait until Fawkes finished delivering his message. He didn’t want to get anywhere near any Potters.
“Alastor, when did you get a Phoenix?” asked Fleamont and the man just rolled his eyes. “He isn’t mine. He visits from time to time.” He answered.
“Hades believes there is a family in danger tonight.” Said Albus and the tension in the room tripled.
“Can we actually trust a bird?” asked Caradoc Dearborn.
Albus sighed tiredly, “A Phoenix will always serve the light. They are creatures of the light and they only appear to those worthy. This one seems to have taken a liking to Alastor and has decided to help him.”
In the end it was decided that Alastor and Benjy Fenwick would go with the bird. If there was any trouble then they would send reinforcements.
Hadrian flamed them to the house and they waited for ten minutes. There was a group of death eaters approaching the house and Moody got a mad glint in eyes which promised pain. Hades flamed Benjy away and took him back to the Order to get help.
Alastor had provided them with a distraction. He attacked the death eaters before they reached the house giving Hades time to go get help. Several Order members were flamed into the house while Albus had Hades flame the family away.
Tom didn’t bother showing up for this raid. The death eaters walked into a trap. The fight didn’t even take long. Hades however also knew that these were not high profile death eaters. Some were new members and other people looking to impress their master. They were mostly foot soldiers. This was a win but in the long run these Death Eaters would not have any useful information. At the very least they saved a family from being wiped out.
Hades flamed away not wanting anyone else to see him there. He was trying to keep a low profile until he was ready to face old Tommy boy again. There didn’t need to be anymore rumors of another phoenix hanging around Dumbledore. For now he would sleep in peace knowing that he managed to save at least four innocent people.
***
The next morning instead of having breakfast with his housemates he went to Hermione. She introduced him to her dorm mates, Pandora Moon, Mandy Brocklehurst and Maria Glossop. Pandora reminded him a lot of Luna and he assumed that this was her mother. Her other Ravenclaw year mates were Steven Davies, Marcus Belby and David Clearwater. There were others in their year but these were the ones that she shared a floor with.
They both collected their schedules and saw that they had DADA first. Hadrian was taking DADA, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, History of Magic, Herbology and Runes. Hermione was taking DADA, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Arithmancy and Runes. Draco had DADA, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, History of Magic, Herbology and Arithmancy. Neville had DADA, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, History of Magic, and Herbology. They would always have at least one other sibling doing the same subject at all times. Hermione decided to take some of her OWL’s and NEWT’s separately. They didn’t have the time right now to be swamped with school work and could always do her tests privately.
Hadrian slipped away from Hermione when she met up with Lily and went to Draco. Several Slytherins nearly fell out of their chairs when they realized that there was a Hufflepuff at the table. When Avery went to hex him Draco flicked his wrist and threw Avery into the wall. “Raise your wand to my brother Avery and I will kill you. My siblings will not suddenly drop out of my life due to the color of my tie. Take your senseless house bigotry and shove it up your arse.”
There was dead silence from the entire Hall when Avery hit the wall. No one had any idea what to say to the Slytherin Peverell who had effortlessly tossed a teenager into the wall for attempting to curse his brother. The Professors were so shocked that none of them even took points.
Draco made some sort of hand movement and the hall was shocked to see the other two Peverell siblings get up and walk out of the hall with their brothers. The other two Peverell’s didn’t even seem to notice the exchange, however they all left in unison.
As the door to the Great Hall closed they heard Hermione ask, “Did they honestly believe that just because we were sorted into different houses we would stop talking? Or did they think that because Draco was in Slytherin he would be shunned by the rest of the family?”
Neville rolled his eyes, “Most of them think that ambition and cunning mean evil and vile. Then again people like Avery who go around screaming about blood purity do tend to destroy the House reputation.”
Draco just rolled his eyes, “We are just protective no one else in the entire castle gives a damn about us. We stick together or the other houses would eat us alive.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes, “Focus people. We need to figure out how to get to our classes. We left our friends in the hall during our dramatic exit.”
Lily and Severus shared a look which basically said, ‘Shouldn’t we go and help them’ and Peter bit his lip. He got up when he saw Lily and Severus also stand up. It seemed like Hadrian and Hermione weren’t close to any of their dorm mates yet so they might need help as well. Neville had been incredibly kind to him. The least he could do was help them to their classes.
The two lions and one snake ran after the quadruplets to help them get to their classes.
***
During DADA James and Sirius were listening to Professor Crawley, the man was a retired Auror, and seemed to be one of the best teachers they had so far. He was fair and started them off with a high profile spell. “The Patronus charm is mainly used to repel dementors but as this is your OWL year producing a few wisps of smoke is enough to earn you extra marks in your exam. You can practice the spell this lesson and tomorrow we will move on. You can keep trying in your free time but I honestly have no idea how many of you will be able to produce one.”
The Professor had been called away and left the class to carry on practicing the spell. As this was the only lesson he would give them before moving on to something else. Many people were unable to even produce the wisps like the Professor said and several people were getting frustrated.
Neville and Draco were talking in hushed tones. They didn’t even bother to try and Lily went over to ask them why they didn't want to try. The two boys just shared a look and Draco nodded his head. They both wordlessly just flicked their wands and two corporal patronus danced around the room until they disappeared. Draco’s was a snake while Neville’s was an owl. Only Draco knew it was Hedwig who gave her life to protect both Hadrian and him.
“How did you do that?” asked Lily.
Neville looked at Draco and shook his head and pushed him forwards saying, “I ain’t teaching it this time.”
Draco rolled his eyes and asked Lily, “What memory did you use?”
Lily bit her lip, “The last time I tried when I first saw Hogwarts.”
Draco shook his head, “Looking back at it now as a fifth year it seems like a good memory but at the time you were a scared first year who had no idea what was going to happen next. You probably felt excited but also fear of the unknown and wariness. It won’t work for a patronus.”
Lily bit her lip and several other people seemed to be thinking of what other memories one could use, “The memory wasn’t happy enough?” she asked.
Draco shook his head, “The memory that makes a corporal patronus is not just any memory filled with joy. You need a memory where joy and happiness is so overwhelming that it makes you ignore any other emotions such as fear, excitement or even frustration.”
Lily couldn’t help but ask, “What do you think of?”
Draco just shrugged, “My family, happy, whole and alive. It doesn’t have to be a memory, it can be a dream, or something that you dearly wish for. Wrap yourself in the emotions of joy and love and then cast the spell. It becomes easier after the first casting. Remember a patronus is specific to every person and sometimes a patronus can change.”
James couldn’t help but ask, “Why would it change?”
Neville was the one who replied, “The animal represents something that you trust to protect you. A spirit guide of sorts but when you go through something life changing the animal changes. I once knew a woman whose patronus was a bear until she fell in love. She loved him so much her patronus changed to reflect her love. It changed from a bear to a werewolf.”
Remus looked a little stunned at what Neville said and Sirius asked, “She was in love with a werewolf?”
Neville just nodded, “She was and her patronus was proof of the love they shared and her trust in him.”
Thanks to the impromptu lesson from Draco several people were able to at least produce wisps of smoke by the end of the lesson. Lily even had some sort of animal try to take shape but eventually the lesson ended. Lily had not mastered the spell so as they walked out of the room, she asked Draco to help her practice after class.
***
Sirius walked over to James and clapped him on the shoulder, “Not gonna run after Evans Prongs.”
James shook his head, “Nah, Evans is still special but I think it would be best if I kept my distance, Padfoot.”
Sirius knew that the decision hurt James. As much as he postured and joked he really did like Lily but the way he went about doing it wasn’t right. He only pushed the girl further away and he had only himself to blame. Sirius didn’t know what was so special about her but he did understand her loyalty to her friend.
The first two years when the pranks weren’t so bad Evans sometimes spoke to them. She would help with their homework in the common room. She also partnered up with them sometimes in classes but when James decided that he was in love with her everything changed.
The name calling got worse. The pranks towards Snape turned malicious and everyone knew it was because James was jealous that Snape and Evans were friends. Lily was fiercely loyal to her friends. She took each attack on Snape personally. She made sure they knew exactly how little she thought of their behavior even though they had been too stubborn to really listen to her.
Sirius Black wanted to rage against Hermione Peverell. Especially since she told him how proud his mother would be of him but he couldn’t find it in himself to do so. The book that Fleamont Potter gave him on mind arts really helped keep a lock on his anger and see things more clearly.
The truth was the reason he hated the Slytherins so much was because they were everything his mother wanted him to be. Sirius had wanted her to be proud of him. Every child wants their parents to be proud of them at some point. There was always some part of him that couldn’t understand how his mother couldn’t seem to love him.
Even though he raged against pureblood ideology and dark magic he never wanted his mother to hate him. He thought that eventually she would get used to the idea of having a Gryffindor son. It wouldn't really matter once he was done with Hogwarts.
However he was wrong and every year everything just got worse and worse. He acted out more and more when his mother tried to force him to be someone he was not. Sirius had managed to dig himself into a hole and he had no idea if he could get out of it.
James may have hated Snape because of Evans but Sirius he hated Snape because of what he represented. Snape was a half-blood. It had come out sometime during first year when everyone realized that there were no magical Snape families anywhere.
He was obviously poor. All pureblood families had some sort of wealth. At least enough not to clothe their children in rags but that wasn’t the point. Snape was bloody powerful and he didn’t think the boy really knew it.
Sirius was a Black and if there was anything a Black was good at then it was at recognizing power. Snape was powerful but he was also intelligent, almost frighteningly intelligent. He wasn’t lying when he said that Snape had come to school knowing more dark curses than the seventh years because Sirius he remembered.
It was back in first year before they really started playing pranks. A seventh year pushed Snape and he blasted the older, larger boy into the wall. That was when Sirius saw it. He saw the boy's black eyes glow with power. He knew that the boy would be absolutely ruthless when pushed into a corner.
Snape would strike out and leave nothing but a bloody body of the poor sod that decided to screw him over. Sirius was determined to break him down in that moment because Snape was exactly what his mother always wanted in a son.
Snape was smart, ruthless and powerful. He could wear masks and play games better than anyone else he had ever seen. He sometimes wondered what would have happened if Lord Prince ever bothered to check up on his grandson. Would he have rubbed his hands in glee once he saw the potential in the snake?
Sirius just wanted the walking talking reminder of everything he was not to just go away. He helped James at every turn because he wanted to tear the boy down. Now he was so bloody ashamed.
He was supposed to be noble and chivalrous but instead he had been acting like a weak little coward. He had been taking out his frustrations that came from a fucked up family on someone who never did anything wrong.
Snape wasn’t some sort of saint. He gave as good as he got at every turn but the fact was that if they hadn’t started on him then the boy would have probably never bothered with them.
Snape was the bloody embodiment of his house. Most of those stuck up purebloods never noticed how the poor half-blood made deals and pulled strings to get them to look the other way while he managed to stay friends with Lily.
Now that Draco was in the house with him. Snape finally had some back up. Sirius agreed with James but he also knew that he needed to do something else that James didn’t. He needed to talk to his brother.
Regulus had been paying for a crime he never committed because in Sirius’s mind being the perfect little son and going to Slytherin was a crime. Regulus had once worshipped his elder brother. He had cared for him very much and Sirius had been ignoring him since he was sorted in first year.
It made sense that Regulus didn’t want to draw their mothers anger. Sirius knew that he would never agree with them but he could at least make sure that Regulus knew he could always come to him. He couldn’t blame the house of snakes for his mothers attitude. He couldn’t keep punishing them either.
***
Sirius went up to the dorm. He had an hour free before Transfiguration and he was shocked to walk in and find his bed occupied. Sirius knew he had a bit of a reputation with the ladies and a few men. He had never been shy about the fact that he was bisexual. He was more than willing to have a good time but no one ever snuck into his bed before. He put his hand on the person to shake them awake when a surprisingly male hand wrapped around his wrist. The stranger pulled him into bed and then proceeded to use him as a human teddy bear. Sirius struggled for a moment before sighing and taking a nap since he couldn’t break the hold. Technically if he really wanted too he could have done something. However his bed was warm and the person was comfortable.
He was going to try and think up a plan for Regulus but the amount of effort that required was not something he wanted to deal with. It was just so much easier to use this as an excuse to procrastinate being responsible.
James was looking for Sirius. Since Remus currently had the map he was going at it old school by hunting down his friend in his usual haunts. He didn’t have the time to find Remus and Sirius. James came across Neville who offered to help find Sirius. In the end they both gave up and decided to check the dorms even though they had about ten minutes to make it to Transfiguration.
James walked into the dorm. He took one look at Sirius’s bed and turned an interesting shade of red. He started muttering about how he was going to throw Sirius through the window into the lake when he found Sirius being cuddled by another boy.
Neville immediately face-palmed and said, “Wrong bed idiot.”
James nearly got whiplash as he turned to look at Neville, “Please tell me that Sirius didn’t ditch class for a shag?”
Neville then went to his trunk and took out a cookie jar and rattled it so it made some noise, “Harry-kins cookie wakey-wakey.”
Sirius woke up, rubbed his eyes and tried to get out of Hadrian’s iron hold. He failed, sighed and then realized that both Neville and James were laughing at him.
Sirius sighed and looked at James, “This wasn’t my fault.”
James and Sirius watched Neville wake his brother. Hadrian yawned, rubbed one green eye like a kitten and cocked his head listening to his brother. Once he saw the cookie in Neville’s hand he immediately started making ‘gimme gimme’ gestures with his hands. “Out of Sirius’s bed first Hadrian.” Said Neville.
Hadrian’s eyes flew open in horror as he threw himself out of the bed. Sirius was all but thrown to one side of the bed as Hadrian moved to stand next to his brother. The teen was without a shirt and James and Sirius’s eyes widened at the number of scars on his body, especially the burn on his left side.
“You said I could nap in your bed.” He told Neville as he took the cookie from his brother's hand.
“Yes, my bed, not Sirius’s. You used him as a teddy bear. Honestly Hermione is never going to let you live this down.”
Hadrian pulled on his shirt and robe, muttering apologies and curses, “We’re all late for class. I’ll catch you later Nev.”
Hadrian went running off to Runes while James, Sirius and Neville ran for Transfiguration. “Why was he sleeping in our dorm?” asked James.
Neville sighed, “We all lived separately before our Godfather found us. Hadrian’s relatives were not accepting. They didn’t like magic and thought they could beat it out of him.”
Neville ignored the horrified looks on their faces as he continued, “He is usually all responsible and stuff but sometimes when he has nightmares or he gets depressed he likes to seek us out, cuddle, and reassure himself that his family is near. Besides, waking Hadrian any other way is physically painful. The cookie thing is just easier.”
James and Sirius shared a look as Neville walked away. They were both wondering how many other secrets the four siblings were hiding.

Chapter Text

Time passed quickly for the Peverell siblings as they fell into the routine of Hogwarts life. The steady routine of sleeping, breakfast, classes, homework, hanging out with friends and even Hogsmeade weekends had soon become normal.
There were times when Hadrian would wake up and forget everything that they had been through even if it was just for a moment. There were times when he wondered if this was what his life would have been like if they had lived in a time when there was no blood war.
Dumbledore did a really good job of keeping the ugliness of the war away from the school. This was a generation of students and professors who had never known the terror of war. Grindelwald had been stopped before he could really do anything in Britain. These were people who had never known life threatening terror. It showed. The siblings could see the differences.
The siblings found themselves enjoying the peace even though they knew it wouldn’t last long. There had been some close calls over the summer. Now as the year progressed more and more Arours were dying. The raids were becoming known to the public. The war couldn’t be hidden for much longer.
By the year 1977, several people would be awaiting the newspaper every morning just so that they could find out who had died the night before and who had survived. For now, they couldn’t worry about what was happening outside the walls of Hogwarts. They had their own troubles to deal with in their respective houses.
Their example of presenting a unified front even though they had been sorted differently had first been met with anger. Several purebloods like Lestrange, Avery and Nott tried to put Draco in his place in the Slytherin hierarchy. They had a very cruel wake-up call when Draco obliterated them all in a duel.
It was a sobering thought for them all to see for themselves that these people who had once haunted their nightmares were just children. All these teens had become death eaters. They had all made names for themselves by destroying families and being imprisoned for numerous crimes. Now, they were just a bunch of lost teenagers.
They were a bunch of rich jerks who had heard whispers and promises of power but they held no experience in the real world. For someone like Draco who had been raised as a Malfoy, trained as a spy, and lied to the Dark Lord himself, the duel had been a joke.
They were just children with petty ideas of power and revenge. Most of the Slytherins had absolutely no idea what it truly meant to serve the Dark Lord. When the rumors had first begun they believed it to be some sort of pureblood club that would be exclusive to those of ‘good breeding’ and maybe it would also lead to several political alliances to the heirs of pureblood families.
Then there was talk of attacking muggles and practicing dark magic. They believed it to be some sort of sport. They believed that they would have a choice. They thought of this as a game. Some believed that their parents weren’t the ones murdering innocent people. Many saw muggles as less than human so it didn’t count as murder.
They didn't know that they would be punished for their failures. They didn’t know that they would be forced to do things that they didn't want to do. They never imagined that they would become slaves to their master. They never realized that the Dark Lord didn't have friends. He only had servants and every order given was supposed to be met with blind obedience.
They had no idea that taking the mark was not a gift but a brand which would make them slaves. They didn’t believe that they could be bound to serve even against their will. They never realized that their actions would cause them and their families' lives to be endangered.
They were just children with illusions of grandeur. They were just fifteen year old boys who thought that their blood somehow made them better or gave them the right to decide who was going to live or die. To Draco it was like looking in the mirror back when all he wanted to do was make his father proud.
In the end however it wasn’t the fact that they were murdering innocent people and destroying lives that made them realize that this war had cursed their lives. It was the fact that they managed to completely destroy their population.
Purebloods were a small number of the population. That would never be changed. There were many purebloods who had trouble conceiving children. They all joined up thinking that they would rid the world of filth and lift the ban on magic marked as dark or illegal. Blood magic, old rituals and traditions, voodoo had been banned because it scared muggleborns. The ministry couldn’t afford to have muggles refuse their magical child an education. Children needed to be taught control or the magical world would be exposed. The ministry hid all things that made them uncomfortable restricting pureblood rights to cater to the muggleborns.
Voldemort promised that they would make a better world where only purebloods were allowed to survive in it. None of the Slytherins took into account the fact that they were joining up for a war. A blood war that divided families up into light and dark and then proceeded to massacre each other.
Several neutral families who could have possibly allowed marriages between their lines were wiped out. This caused several families to choose from an already small gene pool, something that they knew and resented. Their marriage options were running low and birth rates were even lower. They had successfully ended the pureblood regime by killing off the population.
***
When Avery, Nott and Lestrange attacked him and brought him forward to the King of Slytherin. Lucius Malfoy, seventh year there was a reckoning in the House of Snakes and the King toppled. Draco obliterated through the court which rules Slytherin with an iron fist. Draco had made it clear that he would not bow to the court but rather the house of snakes would bow to him. He watched as they all believed that he would force them to become ‘muggle loving fools’ and he just shook his head.
Draco conjured up a chess board to show them exactly what was going to happen to the population when the Dark Lord was through with his war. Draco recalled the look of horror in the eyes of every pureblood when he pulled out the chessboard and divided up the pieces. “This chessboard represents the Dark and the Light side of the coming war. The pawns will be all the innocent muggles and muggleborns who have no idea that magic exists. They don’t have any idea how they get magic either.”
Several purebloods moved to open their mouths and spew forth drivel that had been shoved down their throats by their parents. Draco silenced them with a wave of his wand. He heard it all before and he wasn’t interested in hearing it again. “Before you try to say that they steal magic lets be logical - if we magical people haven’t found a way to steal each other’s magic how in Merlin's name would a couple of muggles who don’t know about the magical world even try to ‘steal magic’ so let’s use some common sense.
The rest of the pieces represent the Ancient and Noble Houses.” Draco waved a hand and destroyed several pieces on both sides of the board. “The black King is The Dark Lord and the white king is Dumbledore. Now in an effort to get rid of all non-purebloods several families will die either in service to Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. Then we are left with whichever side wins and manages to kill off the leader and you know where that gets us?”
He said nothing for a little while waiting to see if anyone here would think for themselves for a change. When no one said anything he sighed and continued, “It gets our population cut down like animals and your marriage prospects suddenly become smaller. We all agree that marrying too close is causing problems. We’ve already seen the effects.”
There were several nods in agreement and he decided to drop a little hint, “The best example is the Gaunt family. The so-called descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, living in a hovel and bat shit insane. Let’s not forget the fact that several pureblood families can only produce one heir. How long until this war that you are all set to wage destroys us in the process?”
It was Regulus Black that actually helped him the most with his next question, “What do you expect us to do? Marry mudbloods that don’t care about our traditions and culture?”
Draco hid a smile and answered him, “Don’t be daft. Why is it that you all feel the need to either destroy your beliefs or destroy our country? There is something called a compromise.”
Several purebloods raised an eyebrow to him, “The problem that most of you have is that muggleborns don’t understand how the magic works and have forced the old ways to be replaced with their traditions and culture but that isn’t really true. The muggleborns had no say in those laws. That came from Dumbledore in an effort to make them feel safer in the magical world.”
Avery sneered, “Then we get rid of Dumbledore and only the Dark Lord can do that.”
Draco and Regulus rolled their eyes and Regulus replied, “The Dark Lord is powerful but he fears Dumbledore. I have no interest in getting caught in the middle of their power struggle.”
Draco nearly kissed the boy who made it clear exactly what the war had ended up becoming. Both Dumbledore and Tom had been too extreme in their views. Neither one of them were willing to compromise on anything which would have made everything easier. If they were going to win this war then everyone needed a voice and that included the purebloods.
They joined because they were pissed with the pro-muggle approach which they all admitted wasn't fair. Most of the Dark families followed paganism as a religion, something that was outlawed as the muggles saw it as an evil practice and speaking with devils.
They made the rituals illegal so that the muggleborns would stay in the magical world and learn to control their magic instead of becoming a danger to the statue of secrecy. Now in the muggle world paganism was once again slowly becoming popular. At the very least, people who didn’t follow Christianity as a religion weren't burned at the stake anymore. Britain needed change and they needed something that the muggles were just getting into, freedom of expression. The muggle world wasn’t running around killing people and accusing them of witchcraft anymore so they didn’t have to keep their magic limited.
They just needed a better way to introduce it. Draco spoke again, “Does Hogwarts cover anything that would help them learn? I don’t see magical traditions taught nor do I see up to date muggle studies classes. Muggles have moved forward so quickly in the half a century and magical folk are just dragging their feet behind them. Ignorance is the reason for hatred. You know nothing but the shit shoved down your throats by your parents. Why don't you actually learn about the real world?”
***
Draco took over as the King of Slytherin and the rest of the school was left to scratch their heads and wonder why the seating of the Slytherins had changed. It was a simple seating system. Only those in fourth year and higher were involved in the power struggles of the house. Those in first to third were left to sit at the end of the table nearest to the Professors. The King of the Snakes sat at the head of the table with his court following him in order of importance. Severus Snape sat at his right while Regulus Black sat on his left. There were two empty seats then they sat in order of year. Seventh years went down to fourth years as there was no longer a court.
Draco had not yet chosen their allies, instead he was teaching them muggle history starting at the turn of the 18th century. The discovery of electricity, cars and other devices that muggles created to make their lives easier without magic were hammered into their skulls.
He even taught them about their development in war and why their numbers so greatly outweighed their own. It was a terrifying reality for them. It also made them realize that Hogwarts needed several new classes. They would learn from the muggle world. They may be purebloods however they were Slytherins. They were cunning and manipulative. They planned in advance. They sought out deals and alliances. They were above all else only looking out for themselves and they always survived.
When war came they chose the winning side. It never mattered who thought what about them. They played their hands close to the chest and you never knew when they moved until they decided to strike.
Draco pulled Narcissa Black to his court and with her came Melissa Burke. She had originally died in the war and with her so did her line. However Draco mentioned something that made several pureblood heiresses pause, “Muggleborn or muggle raised are more willing to take on the name of their wife. They no longer have the need that we do to continue a family line.”
Several Slytherins bit their lips, “If we were to take your advice and teach them our way our children will still be half-bloods.” Draco rolled his eyes and stated that night something that shocked them to their core, “I am a half-blood. My father was pureblood but my mother was a muggleborn. No one in the ministry would dare touch me even if they knew my blood-status.”
It took everyone a moment to comprehend that Draco Peverell was a half-blood. Then there was the fact that he admitted it so easily. It was something that they all had been taught to be ashamed of. “The fact is, blood doesn’t mean anything when you already have a family name. If you are the heir to a Noble house it automatically ensures your safety regardless of blood-status. Blood status can be regained eventually. All you have to do is keep track of who marries who.”
***
Draco had been playing with a dagger. He settled into an armchair by the fire and the blade glittered in his hands dangerously as he spoke, “Besides all blood spills just as red as any other. It doesn’t change a damn thing.”
The knife slammed into the table in front of him, “The fact is if you join that war and you get yourself killed then your line and family name ends. Before you start crying about disownment no one would dare disown their heir until they can secure another. You can buy yourself years if you’re smart and in that time this war is sure to end.”
Several of the seventh year Slytherins had already begun to send applications overseas for apprenticeships. They were telling their parents that they would return to serve the Dark Lord as masters of their chosen crafts. As far as anyone knew they would return to take the dark mark once they finished their education. It would take years before their parents even guessed that their children might not want to get involved in the war. If they figured it out years from now then they would have to wait to try and secure another heir. They could probably buy at least eight years before anyone got suspicious.
Voldemort was glad that they sought to become more useful but he hated the fact that his army would not grow at the rate he expected. He assumed he would be getting several Masters in their respective fields instead of just more politicians. This would allow him to build up his talent base and have even more skilled servants.
Dumbledore noticed how many Slytherins were choosing to get out of Britain as fast as possible once they graduated. He couldn’t help but feel even a little bit of relief. He always feared the House of Snakes and their beliefs. While he may not have most of them hugging muggleborns he would thank whichever God was responsible for at the very least, forcing neutrality from them. He could do nothing more to convince them to join the light. At the very least they would not join Tom and grant him an even bigger army.
It was more than he had originally hoped, especially in the recent days. He noticed them growing more and more hateful and angry towards the other students. They were taking out their frustrations in dangerous ways and sometimes he feared what they could become. However, since Draco Peverell had taken over the house he had brought about several unexpected changes. He managed to steal the crown and turn Malfoy to the Grey. He had once feared that the Malfoy boy had already chosen his side.
His recent application to South Africa to learn Healing was a shock. Albus was only too glad to send off the applications, even writing letters of recommendation to those who he feared might be passed over. He would do anything to help keep them out of the war.
***
Hermione smirked as she looked out over the House of Snakes and mentally added another tick on her list. She couldn’t believe that six months had already passed, time had really flown by her. Hermione had never been a popular girl when she was in Hogwarts but this time she had many friends.
She needed to be popular to draw people to her. She also knew that several people were curious about the mysterious siblings. She and her brothers had several secrets and people had picked up on several of their code words and signals. They tried to blend in as much as possible. They could dress and talk in the right ways but one thing that couldn’t be changed was the fact that they were all brilliant, intelligent, powerful and beautiful. People wanted to know them and their secrets. However this just made it easier to have them question themselves and their decisions.
Hermione knew that she already had several would-be death eaters considering work outside the country. Voldemort had recruited from all the houses and that was something that many people forgot. It was true that Slytherin had the most problems but Draco had already taken them well in hand.
The marauders had included Neville into their group. She frequently saw Peter and Remus sitting together and writing that book on Divination like Neville had suggested. Hermione would never forgive the Peter of her time. However this was just a fifteen year old boy who was finally learning to be more confident in himself and to stand up for himself. He was finally coming out of the shadow of James and Sirius.
Hermione couldn’t help but give herself a mental pat on the back for the marauders. Neville’s calm influence already had them behaving slightly better. They were thinking differently and those thoughts were leading in positive directions. Sirius had spoken to his brother and they had begun taking the long road to repairing their relationship. James was reaching out to other people and building new friendships with people who wouldn’t always listen to what he had to say. James needed people in his life who were willing to tell him when he was wrong and he was finally making those friends.
***
Frank Longbottom was a seventh year lion and he was the head boy. Neville had been happy to get to know the man but he also kept a bit of distance between them. He had his hands full with the marauders. He didn’t want to interfere too much with the path that Frank would take. As far as the siblings knew they didn’t need to interfere in his life.
Frank was always a serious and responsible person. He played quidditch and made time for his friends and girlfriend Alice Smith. He managed to balance his responsibilities well. He was a good role model and James had taken to spending some time with the older boy when Sirius was busy with Regulus. They played chess even though James lost miserably and talked about the plans for the future. James always knew that Frank was a good role model. He knew that he was a good student and a good boyfriend.
However it was more than that. James had admired Frank for being able to be kind to anyone. He didn’t judge people at first glance. He got to know people before he made his judgments. Those were qualities that James realized that he lacked. He needed to start noticing the world and the people around him.
James didn’t want to be selfish and self-obsessed. He wanted to be a good person. He thought he had been a good person but he also realized that there were things about himself that he didn’t like. He wanted people to say that he was kind and fair to everyone. He didn’t want to be labeled as a bully or a prejudiced git. To do that he needed to be able to understand and empathize with other people. He wanted to be friends with people who told him when he was wrong.
He loved Sirius and Remus but they both listened to him without really giving their own opinion. Remus usually tried to stop them but in the end he just kept quiet. He didn’t want to lose his friendship with the other marauders and Sirius because he thought the world of James.
***
Lily had also taken notice of the marauders and their new behavior. The fact that they seemed to calm down and find better things to do rather than bullying other people was a relief. In her heart she always knew that they weren’t bad people, just immature. She was just glad that they finally seemed to be growing up but she was honestly happy that Potter finally left her alone.
She was always a little flattered by the attention even though it embarrassed her. However James Potter was not someone that Lily could ever really see herself with in the future. Sometimes when she caught him joking or calmly reading a book or even napping she thought maybe one day.
She could admit that he was a good person, a loyal friend and even funny when he wasn’t being annoying. He was handsome and charming at times as well. As much as she could probably see herself with the man that he was becoming, she couldn’t go back down that road.
Lily knew it was not because of Sev or their past but because he didn’t make her heart beat the way it did when she saw Draco. Her tummy didn’t do the same flips when she saw James. Her eyes didn’t light up the same way when James walked into the room. When she saw Draco she glowed and everyone had noticed it. There was something about him that drew her to him.
Once upon a time before she had met Draco Peverell she could have seen herself with James. At least once he grew up but not anymore. She didn’t want to give up all she already had built with Draco for a possibility of something with James. It would be cruel to them both especially since James had left her alone and finally moved on.
She wouldn’t play with either of the boy's hearts like that. James was going to make someone very happy one day but she already knew it wouldn’t be her. Now all she had to do was wait until Draco was ready. She knew that he cared about her but he didn’t figure out in what way he felt about her at least not yet.
Lily was sure that he would figure it out and then ask her on a date. She was willing to give it a go. Lily didn’t want to rush into their relationship. Their friendship was part of the reason she loved him so much. He cared about her as a person. Her interests and hobbies and everything in between. He valued her as a person and she loved him for it.
***
Sirius Black was watching Hadrian Peverell. He had started doing that a lot ever since he had reconnected with Reggie. It was his brother who urged him to write to their grandfather. There was something no one really knew was that Orion Black was not the Lord Black.
His grandfather allowed his son to be the proxy. When he took the seat everyone assumed that Orion had been named Lord of the family. However their grandfather never named an heir. He had not chosen any of his sons or his grandsons as far as anyone else knew.
His mother could screech all she wanted about him being a blood traitor. She could threaten to have him disowned and it wouldn’t matter. She had no say in who his grandfather named as his heir. No one in the family was sure why an heir had never been named but nothing could change the facts.
Their grandfather lived in seclusion. He had not gotten involved in politics in years. He allowed Orion to handle the family but he had the power to overrule their parents. No one had really seen him in a while but it didn’t change the fact that he was the Head of their family.
Sirius had written to him explain what was going on and he was still waiting for a reply. He honestly had no idea what it would mean but he was sure that his grandfather deserved to know what his son and daughter in law had done to the family in his absence. He was at peace with that decision but Hadrian baffled him. The boy was an enigma.
As a Black he knew power when he saw it. He knew the ‘Puff was hiding more than he was letting on but that didn’t change the fact that the Sex God of Hogwarts couldn’t get one single boy out of his head. He tried flirting and it had fallen flat. The boy wasn’t interested but he was sure that Hadrian had checked him out a few times.
There was something holding him back. He had seen the heated looks of lust that Hadrian got in his eyes sometimes. Then it would pass and something hard would remain. Sirius narrowed his eyes at the challenge. Hadrian had held his gaze before his eyes went cold and he pretended nothing happened. The boy was challenging him for some reason.
Hadrian Peverell would be his and there was nothing that was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Chapter Text

Lord Arcturus Black was a formidable man in his prime. Now he was also old and grieving.
Melania Black nee Macmillan had died just after the birth of their first grandchild Sirius. It had sent him spiraling into depression. The marriage may have been contracted however he had come to love his dear wife so very much. It killed him to be without her.
His daughter in law Walburga was a bloody harpy. His son was spineless but he trusted them to at least raise their sons with the correct values. Now, reading through the only letter his grandson ever bothered to send him he realized how very wrong he was and his temper seethed.
He never really liked Walburga as a match for his son but Orion had been ill almost all of his childhood even though he was the eldest. Pollux was cowardly and slightly power hungry. He always knew that neither of his sons would be able to bear the burden of their family magic. Being the Lord Black meant that one had to be of strong mind and body. Neither of his sons had the spine to hold together their family nor would they be able to bring honour to their great house.
He had held off naming an heir and reading that thrice damned letter he realized it was a damn good thing he had done so. Walburga went from being a power hungry girl to a power crazed idiot. She had abused his grandsons and contrary to popular belief the Lord Black did not hate muggleborns. He may not like them but he was clever enough to know that purebloods needed muggleborns and they needed half-bloods.
The world couldn’t run with just pureblood Lords who believed that they ran the world due to the purity of their blood. He did however give great respect to his line and their achievements. He was proud of his heritage. He would never allow anyone in the House of Black to consort with those who turned their backs on their way of life.
It was part of their house motto- ‘always pure’ it did not refer to blood but to magic. The house of Black would welcome anyone who honoured magic and renounced the muggle way of life.
It seemed that his daughter in law had poisoned the minds of his grandsons. The blood was pounding in his ears as he made plans to fix the mess that the blasted woman had made. He nearly wanted to throttle his son, however some of the blame fell on him as well. Orion had been ill for so long that he was a very shy child. He never really learned the lessons of an heir, because he was always in and out of the hospital.
As Orion grew older he got stronger. Arcturus had hoped that having a strong willed wife would help keep his son in line but Orion crumbled. He left his wife to do as she pleased while he catered to her every whim. He should have checked up on the family. He was at fault for not checking upon his grandchildren. He now knew how useless his own children had become.
That blasted chit wasn’t going to live one more moment on this earth. When she was finally dead Orion would be sent to one corner of the earth while his brother and daughter in law (Pollux and Druella) joined them in another corner.
Then he would have to deal with the mess that they had made of his granddaughter's lives. He would have to ensure that Sirius understood what it actually meant to be the Black Heir. The boy obviously knew only whatever crap Walburga pushed into his head.
A potions accident would make a good excuse to the ministry for why his dear daughter in law died. He nodded his head as his plans came together in his mind. He apparated away with a shark-like grin thinking of all the chaos his return was about to bring.
***
A week had passed since Sirius had sent the letter to his grandfather and he had yet to hear back from him. James opened the morning newspaper and paled as he read the title on the first page. He turned to speak to his best friend only to find him lost in his own thoughts. This was something that happened a lot since he had written to his grandfather and not heard back since then.
“Sirius, I think you need to see this.”
Sirius turned to James slightly surprised at how serious he seemed. He took the newspaper out of his hand and read the title on the first page of the Prophet. It was basically screaming, ‘Lady Black dies in a potions accident.’ Sirius paled and ran out of the room uncaring of the fact that everyone was staring and his brother was chasing after him.
“Slow down, I’m not as fast as you are.” Shouted Regulus.
Sirius sped into an abandoned classroom and nearly collapsed, “I did this. I got her killed.”
Regulus just looked lost at his brother, “What are you talking about?”
Sirius explained to him how he had written to their grandfather. He told him about everything that was going on with the blood war that was brewing. He told him about his parents and which side of the war they wanted him to take. Almost a week later their mother was dead.
They both knew their mother never went near a cauldron. Everyone knew that she thought it was servants' work to brew.
Regulus just sighed and rolled his eyes, “What did you think he was going to do?”
Once he saw the look of self-righteousness on his brother's face Regulus suddenly turned fierce, “Don’t look at me like I’m some sort of monster, brother. This was exactly what was going to happen and you knew it. The Black family is dangerous.”
Regulus snarled at Sirius and every time he took a step forward Sirius took a step back, “We use whatever information we have to further our own agendas. We take revenge mercilessly. We hit hard and fast and we leave nothing of our enemies. When our family is threatened we go to war.”
Sirius felt his back hit the wall but Regulus was right in his face. His grey eyes were merciless as he ranted at his brother, “Our mother abused us. Our father abandoned us. Our grandfather took vengeance on the one that sought to destroy the Heir to the family.”
Regulus jabbed his finger in Sirius’s chest, “You knew this would happen. You know this is what you would have done if it were you in his shoes. Stop being a bloody hypocrite.”
Sirius grasped his hair and tugged in frustration, “Merlin Reggie, she was your mother too. How can you be so okay with this?”
Regulus showed a brief flicker of sorrow in his eyes before he replied, “She wasn’t a good mother. She was doing more damage to our family than good. Everyone knew it but more than that she was sending me down a dangerous path. I never wanted to be the heir or a death eater, but mother was insane.” Regulus suddenly looked very tired as he stepped away, “It's better that she’s gone but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss the person who would sing me to sleep. I loved her but that doesn’t change the fact that she was a danger to us. It's better this way Sirius and you know it. You never liked her all that much and now you don’t even have to worry about her approval.”
Sirius never meant for his mother to die. In his heart he knew that once he had written to his grandfather there would be blood spilt. His grandfather was not a merciful man. He never had been and if he saw an attack on his family he dealt with the threat, quickly and efficiently.
Arcturus Black left to grieve, allowing his son to be the proxy of the family. His son had failed in the task that had been set for him. Now that his family needed him, Lord Black was returning to Britain. There was going to be hell to pay for the disgrace that his sons had brought to their family.
Sirius only had one memory of his grandfather. It was when the man had told his four year old self that a Black would bow to no one. That he should never bend nor bow to anyone but his own will. It was something that had stuck in his head and he refused to break, bow or bend to his mothers will. Sirius knew that was not what his grandfather had stood for and now without her he was finally free.
***
Arcturus Blacked hated Albus Dumbledore not because the man was stupid or even weak but because he didn’t see the point of magical tradition. He knew that the Dumbledore family was only a minor house. They didn’t carry much power. They turned their backs on magical tradition when Percival Dumbledore married Kendra who was a muggleborn.
Albus grew up without knowing the importance of their tradition. Then he went ahead and stopped one Dark Lord and everyone in Britain suddenly put the man on a throne. They allowed him to change their way of life and it grated on his nerves. Especially since the old coot was so bloody manipulative however he needed to speak with his grandsons which meant he would have to deal with him.
Sirius was called up to the Headmasters office and saw his grandfather for the first time in nearly a decade. The Headmaster expressed his condolences and their grandfather had them in the floo before anyone could blink. They had family matters to attend too.
Once they were home they were both brought to the Lord's study. The Black brothers were shocked to see their three cousins, Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa. Sirius remembered that his mother was in the middle of trying to negotiate a marriage contracts for them.
The Lestrange, Avery and Malfoy families were all in the Dark Lord's pocket. His mother had been so sure they would be perfect for the Black sisters. He also knew that only Narcissa was happy with the contract while Bellatrix loathed the very air Rodolphus breathed, and Andy was in love with a muggleborn.
Their grandfather was very direct when he explained to Bellatrix that she was free to choose her husband. Everyone was shocked when she said that she had feelings for Malcolm McKinnon. The McKinnons were a Grey family who sometimes leaned Light. She was hoping her Grandfather would try to set up a contract with him.
Andy told him of her muggleborn and his only reply was that the boy would take the Black name and renounce the muggle world or he would disown her. Narcissa calmly accepted her contract. She truly loved Lucius and he truly loved her. Their grandfather merely raised an eyebrow and explained that her contract would have a new clause added to it. If Lucius wanted to marry her then he wouldn’t be able to take the Dark mark or join any terrorist groups. It would become an unbreakable vow that would not be publicized until they returned from South Africa. Hopefully by then the war would be over.
When the three Black siblings were taken care of the girls retired for the night leaving only Sirius and Regulus. Their grandfather only had one thing to say to them, “Summer break will be long for you both. I find your lacking knowledge on the truth of this family unacceptable. You will learn Sirius and Regulus, you will help him.”
Sirius returned to school knowing that his entire life was about to change when summer came again.
***
While Sirius was off dealing with Black family drama James was spending some time trying to get over Lily Evans. He may have stopped chasing her and harassing her. He flinched at thinking about it like that but the truth was that he spoke to Frank about his crush.
His girlfriend Alice commented that if Frank had tried that approach she would have killed him. James finally realized how bothersome he had truly been to her. He was a little ashamed that he kept putting the girl in such embarrassing positions.
However his immaturity aside that didn’t change the fact that James Potter had believed he was in love with her and would someday marry her for the past two years. James was a stubborn person. He always had been and he had realized that he had been slightly spoiled but he never thought that the day would come that he would suffer heartbreak. The truth was that Lily Evans had broken his heart.
It had been easy in the past to convince himself that she would one day come around. Now that he knew he was never going to get the girl it stung. He had admired Lily for her beauty, intelligence, stubbornness and even her loyalty.
She was his idea of perfection and she hated him. Her beautiful green eyes always burned with so much fire and passion when he made her angry. He once thought he could drown in her eyes but now he realized that there was also disgust in those eyes.
She looked down on him because of his own behavior. James wanted nothing more than to prove her wrong about him. Then maybe she would fall into his arms and love him forever.
However he knew that was nothing but a dream. He stared out the window looking down at the great lake and James couldn’t help but sigh in resignation. Lily was being chased by Draco Peverell. The two were chasing each other under the sun. They were running around the picnic blanket that Hermione had set out for them.
Lily seemed to have stolen something that probably belonged to Draco. He was chasing her to get it back and she was laughing. James sighed again as he looked at the joy on her face. Her eyes bright with joy and her blush spread all the way to the tips of her ears. Draco’s laugh echoed across the court yard. Her eyes warmed as she looked at him. There was something special in their eyes when they looked at each other. James realized that she was never going to be his because she already belonged to someone else. He doubted either of them even knew it yet.
James forced himself to stop staring at Lily and took in the rest of them. Snape was sitting with his back against a tree while Hermione sat in between his legs. Snape had his arms around her and was holding the book. Now and then Hermione would turn the page or laugh at something someone said, and Snape would roll his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. James just stared at Snape. That was the boy that they had tormented so much. In the past six months he had become nearly unrecognizable. His hair had been cropped short. His broken nose was fixed and nearly three months ago Hermione had fixed his teeth.
She had Madame Pomfrey resize his teeth so they set properly and were now straight. Then she whitened them and Snape looked normal. He was still pale and lanky but even James could admit that he was somewhat lanky as well. Severus also seemed to be gaining muscle. It was either he was finally growing into his body or his baggy clothes hid more than anyone had realized.
James couldn’t help but feel relieved that Snape wasn’t so miserable anymore. Merlin knew that he had done enough to him that the teen deserved some peace. He admitted to himself that if he could be happy that Snape was happier then he must have really grown up some.
He supposed that this was either empathy or compassion. Then Lily laughed and James just wanted to crawl back into bed. He had done enough growing up today. He had held on so tightly to Lily that he never really knew what he would do with himself when he wasn’t chasing after her anymore.
It was time he found out but maybe tomorrow. For today he wanted to be a teenager and sulk a little longer since he had lost the girl.
***
Severus Snape was looking out at the people around him and wondered how the hell he had gotten so lucky. He had his amazing best friend and he was finally allowed to just be her friend. It had been so hard being a half-blood in Slytherin with no political connections, no money, not even a name to protect himself.
All he had was his intelligence and his cunning. He had fought tooth and nail to be with Lily. A half-blood was bad enough but being best friends with a muggleborn was enough to put a permanent target on his back. It had taken everything he had and then some to ensure that they all left Lily alone.
He even went as far as tormenting other people as long as they left her alone. They did for the most part but the war was getting worse. He was growing bitter and losing himself in a crowd that he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be a part of. He didn’t even recognize what he was becoming anymore.
Then she appeared. Hermione had just appeared out of no-where and she had taken him under her wing. She gave him a job and fixed his appearance and she was his friend. She fought against his stupidity with calm logic. She didn’t judge him. All Hermione did was listen to him.
She understood him and his need to know everything about every type of magic. She didn’t condemn him for dabbling with dark magic. She chose to help him create counter curses and potions to fix the damage that Dark magic created instead of just being helpless to stop it.
Hermione was kind, beautiful and funny but most of all when they were together it was like being two parts of a whole. The two of them just fit together. Their minds worked in such a way that they just knew each other. It was almost as if they were talking without saying a word and working together as easily as breathing.
He knew that he loved her. She had somehow managed to crawl through all those walls around his heart. Falling in love with her was never a choice. He couldn’t name the moment that it happened, it just did. Severus couldn’t imagine not loving her anymore.
There was a time when he thought he loved Lily. He had been with Lily for so long that thinking they were going to be together forever was sort of obvious. He had clung to her and the happiness she brought into his life. Now though he realized that Lily would never truly be able to understand him.
They were friends. She was the only true friend he ever had but she didn’t know how to be with him. They would need to change parts of themselves to be with each other. They wouldn’t make a good couple but Lily was family.
There was a part of his mind that whispered that maybe Hermione loved him back. Then again, a girl like her would have options and he didn’t want to limit her choices. Her friendship was far too precious to lose. If he somehow managed to mess this up by telling her his feelings then things wouldn’t be the same. He had almost lost Lily and there was no way he was going to endanger this as well.
Hadrian was watching Severus and Hermione and he caught it by accident. It was Severus’s big moment when he finally realized that he was in love with his sister. Hadrian could also see that Hermione was too busy reading whatever book that was to realize that Severus finally figured it out.
Hadrian also knew that Severus was a bloody idiot. He probably thought that Hermione didn’t feel the same while Hermione was busy thinking the same damn thing to herself. Hadrian and Neville shared a look. These two would need help. They probably would beat Lily and Draco to the snogging punch.
“They’re all so bloody oblivious.” Muttered Hadrian.
Neville just stared at him with a ‘seriously’ look on his face. Hadrian just returned the look with one of his own that basically screamed, ‘what are you talking about?’
Neville rolled his eyes, “At least they have made some sort of progress. You on the other hand are blind, deaf and dumb when it comes to a certain dog.”
Hadrian crossed his arms and huffed at his brother, “He doesn’t mean it not really. All Sirius Black wants is just another lay. After a little while he’ll get bored and then he will forget all about me. Give him enough time and he’ll stop chasing me.”
Neville face-palmed, "It's been months and he hasn’t stopped flirting with you.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes, “He also hasn’t stopped sleeping around Nev. I don’t want something that means more to me than to him. I respect myself way too much to do this to myself.”
Nev just gave him a sad smile and said, “You admit that it means something to you. He is just fifteen years old. He isn’t perfect but he is trying. He might not be ready now but someday he will be.”
Hadrian flopped down into his brother's lap and sighed, “Maybe I’ll forget all about him by then. Enough about us, is there anyone you have your eye on?”
Hadrian watched as Neville blushed from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He laughed out loud but Neville wouldn’t budge on giving him an answer. Neville was too busy claiming he wasn’t ready to talk about it. The two brothers laughed and joked the afternoon away knowing that days of peace like this wouldn’t last forever. They were going to enjoy every damn minute that they could get out of it.

Chapter Text

Hadrian cursed Fate, Death and even Time if they were listening or watching. He sincerely hoped that they were just so that they would know how incredibly pissed off he was at them.
Last week he and his siblings had been enjoying a fun filled evening sitting under the tree. They were able to pretend they were normal fifteen year olds. They were able to think that their relationship problems were their biggest issues. Now he was back in General mode trying to win a war and save as many lives as possible. He thought they would have more time to enjoy the peace.
Hadrian tugged at his hair in frustration. He had learned the cold, cruel truth a long time ago. The truth that he couldn’t always save everyone and it had been a bitter pill to swallow. He still tried his best however he knew that his best wasn’t always good enough.
When Dumbledore had fought his war, he acknowledged the fact that he would have to sacrifice people. Snape also saw many people who didn’t deserve to die, scream and beg for death. He had been unable to grant them any type of mercy due to his position.
Hadrian liked to believe that he had learned something from them both. He tried to save everyone even though he knew he couldn’t. Dumbledore sat back and just grieved for those that he hadn’t even tried to save. Some of whom were still alive but damned by his hand. Snape heard them cursing him in his nightmares.
Hadrian tried to silence his demons by saving as many as possible even though towards the end he hadn’t been able to save anyone. He knew things were going to change. It was going to get worse but in a way he wished to cling to the last moments of peace that he could. There wouldn’t be much left in the coming days.
For a moment he closed his eyes and he imagined his best friend. He saw red hair, brown eyes and freckles with a grin. He was looking down at him with shining eyes and he was smiling. It was a smile that filled him with a feeling of nostalgia. It reminded him of the Burrow and of much simpler times when everything had been painted black and white. It was a time before they had been tainted by death. Before they had lost the ‘Golden Trio.’ The nickname still made him smile. He still had Hermione but everything that he had now that was born out of a much darker, more desperate place.
The ‘Golden trio’ were a group of kids that met on the train to school. They solved mysteries and did stupid things that should have gotten them expelled or killed. Most of all it had been so innocent. He yearned for that innocence now.
Ron was not the most perfect best friend. They had been young and stupid. They made silly mistakes and had even pettier fights. Hadrian couldn’t help but miss him. He had Neville and Draco and he would die for them. After all they were family but Ron had been the first.
The first friend he had met on the train. The first person who had shown him kindness had been Ron. He was also the first person to look beyond his scar and see the person he was. He sometimes got jealous but Ron had cared about him. It was a relationship he would forever treasure.
It was also something that he would never get back because his Ron was long gone. Ron never had much tact nor did he have much wisdom in the advice department but he was there for him. He welcomed him as family when he had none.
Now with the weight of the world settling itself on his shoulders and crushing him. Harry wished for his friend to offer up a chess match and laugh as he lost miserably. It wouldn’t give him answers but it would grant him some peace. “I miss you Ron. It’s hard being without you here.” he muttered as he marched through the halls. His brother was waiting for him and it was not good news that he brought.
***
Sirius Black had been sneaking into the kitchens using the invisibility cloak when he heard footsteps. He stopped walking, clearing the space so that whoever it was would be able to walk past him when he heard someone muttering.
Sirius paused as he made out the words and an utterly unfamiliar name. He wanted to yank off the invisibility cloak and demand answers but it wasn’t really his place to demand answers. However he couldn’t help but wonder who Ron was? “My best mate.” Sirius was shocked to see Hadrian staring at where he was standing. He was sure that the cloak was covering him but Hadrian had answered his question. How had he known that he was here? “That is you Sirius isn’t it?” he asked and Sirius pulled the cloak off him so that Hadrian could see him. “How did you know it was me?” he asked as he pulled the cloak off.
Hadrian just shrugged, “I heard you muttering and I recognized your voice.” Sirius remembered that Hadrian had answered his question, “Your best mate Ron?” Hadrian just looked at him with a wistful smile on his face. Then he did something that he would probably regret tomorrow, “We were all separated when we were little. It took our Godfather years to track us down after we were separated in the orphanage. We were there while we waited for someone to find our next of kin.”
Sirius nodded his head as he had known the Peverell siblings lived separately as children, “The muggle police were able to track down our mum's squib sister. She hated magic, loathed it really. She hated everything associated with mother. I was the only one sent to her and she hated me just as much as she once hated her sister.”
Sirius couldn’t help but grimace at the thought of living with someone who hated you. “It wasn’t a happy childhood. All my life I had wished for a family. Then I met Ron and he welcomed me into his family with open arms. My best mate, I never thought that I would lose him.”
Sirius looked a little uncomfortable with how serious the conversation had become. However he also refused to let Hadrian just build his walls back up and disappear. It was likely that if that happened he would never see him vulnerable again.
For the first time, since he admitted that he liked Hadrian, Sirius finally felt like he would actually be able to make some sort of progress. That he could take one step closer to being let inside that wall that Hadrian had built around his heart. As it was he only allowed so few to see the real him. “What happened to Ron?” Hadrian shook his head sadly, “He died and now I’m left to figure out what to do without him there to offer any help or guidance.”
Sirius didn’t really have the best grasp on his own feelings. He was pretty sure he was crap at comforting people. He just hoped that whatever he managed to come up with didn’t sound like dragon dung. “Don’t think of him as gone. Try thinking of it as if he was watching you from far away and waiting to see what you do next. He hasn’t left, you just can’t see him anymore. He is listening even though you can’t hear his reply.”
Sirius wasn’t 100% sure that anything that he had said even made any sort of sense. He did hope that at the very least he had brought Hadrian some sort of comfort. He hoped that he managed to convey to him that just because he lost someone didn’t mean that their love for you was lost forever. He was trying to say that someday everything would be alright.
Hadrian laughed as Sirius tried to help even though he looked completely out of his depth. He couldn’t help but be thankful for the moment of laughter. This night would only get worse. He had spent a moment here just trying to gather his thoughts but he was grateful that Sirius was here. He waved goodnight and walked off. He was heading to the room of requirement to meet with Draco.
***
Draco looked up from his notes and noticed the stress lines on his brother's face and sighed. It was going to be one of those nights where he wished he could just get drunk and forget. It was the type of night where he would wish that Tom would just bury himself in a dark deep hole and never come out. He didn’t know how much more he had to give up to this war.
Every time Hadrian came in with those stress lines it always meant bad news. Draco wasn’t sure how much more bad news his sanity could take. He was just so very tired of this Godforsaken war and all that it had taken from them. He could see the same sort of cornered desperate look in his brother's eyes which told him that he was so tired of having to fight.
There were times when their thoughts got dark and their burdens felt too heavy. No matter how hard it got he knew that they wouldn’t just give up. They couldn’t. They just weren’t built like that. No matter how many times Draco cursed, raged or even drank himself silly, they would never abandon this war or each other. That didn’t mean they weren’t allowed a moment or two to wallow and wish. “What took you so long?” asked Draco.
Hadrian all but collapsed into the couch that the room provided and sighed, “The Order of Phoenix had another meeting. Nothing for us to worry about yet but I think I finally figured out what killed Lord Prewitt.”
***
Marcus Prewitt was the father of Molly, Fabien and Gideon Prewitt. Their mother had died three years ago from sickness but their father had died some time during the year 1975. His death brought a lot of political headaches.
When Lord Prewitt died several alliances had fallen though and some families ended up turning to the Dark. The Prewitt family was an Ancient one with a lot of power. Marcus was one of their best politicians. The war had been fought within the Wizengamot and during the raids.
His sons were smart however they were unable to keep up with the political climate. They ended up dead a few years later but they had long since given up trying to fill their fathers shoes within the ministry. His death had been one of the harshest blows to the light in the political war with Tom.
It wasn’t long after the Prewitt family had fallen had the Potter, McKinnon and Bones family fell. They were all wiped out during sneak attacks and raids. This led to almost no more political power to the light side which meant that they couldn’t stop death eaters from passing their prejudiced laws.
***
Draco wanted to scream at the look on his brother's face. Just because they knew what was wrong with the man did not guarantee that they could fix it. The look of hopelessness on his brother's face meant that he didn’t think that they would be able to save the man. “Please tell me that we can somehow save him.” begged Draco and Hadrian just shrugged. “If it was as simple as giving the man a potion or saying a spell we could break in and do it without anyone knowing. This is so much more complicated. Severus and Hermione worked on it during summer. It ended up being one of Bellatrix’s favorite curses. It’s a spell that targets the main organs, flooding them with dark magic until they give out.”
Draco winced. He remembered that spell and he had seen the effects first hand. Hadrian just continued his explanation, “The only way to fix it is with the ritual that they created. The one to purge the body of foreign magic and drink some sort of complicated potion. How the hell do we get him to agree to let two fifteen year olds use him in a ritual that they created?”
Draco was ready to pound his head against the wall. Cleansing rituals only work if you have the permission of the person. If the person did not consent then it was a dark ritual. Using a dark ritual would probably have magic punishing you in some way (another reason for the snake face when Tom used Hadrian in that ritual) but right now Hadrian had a good point.
No one would think that two fifteen year olds would be able to pull something like this off. They would probably be laughed out of the room or something. Not to mention the amount of attention it would bring to them. Attention that they were currently desperately trying to avoid. “We will have to sacrifice a few secrets. How much time do we have? We need to know how much time we have to plan. Lord Prewitt is too valuable to lose especially now.” Said Draco.
Hadrian nodded his head. They had come far in the little time that they had been meddling in the war without giving anything away but they couldn’t afford to do so anymore. The closer they got to the end of the year the more dangerous things became. Soon they would probably have to show the cards they had been carefully hiding. “The curse has until a month until his body completely gives out.”
Draco shook his head, “That’s not much time. We will have to come up with something in two weeks. Any later than that and the magic might bond with him so much that it will refuse to leave his body and he will still end up dead.”
Draco went searching through his books for a few moments until he found what he was looking for, “Take the book to the next meeting on Saturday. Give it to Moody so they know what Lord Prewitt is dealing with and then we’ll talk to the others.”
Hadrian paged through the book as he listened to Draco, “Try to find a way to let it leak that Hermione and Severus have been working on a cure.” Hadrian interrupted him, “We’ll have to be careful though. Once the rumor leaks and Dumbledore finds out about it, we could have a problem. We don’t want him suspicious about why it leaked now, so conveniently. We both know he doesn’t believe in coincidences. Once we are brought to their attention we will have no choice but to step carefully. We will no longer have the shadows to hide us.”
Draco nodded his head. Hadrian did know the headmaster best. They had four days until the next meeting. That meant four days to come up with a plan. Draco bit his lip, “What if we let it slip before we give them the book? Make sure the rumor has already done a few turns on the Hogwarts rumor mill before we give them the book. Moody and Dumbledore will have to research the spell. That will probably take about three to four days. Once they realize that there isn’t a cure and they start looking at other options.”
Hadrian nodded his head, “Be careful how you let it get out though. Maybe some sort of fight with Lily on the dangers of dark magic. Make sure there is a large enough audience.” Draco shook his head, “We don’t want to take the chance that Severus and Lily end up fighting and never talking to each other again. Maybe we can play the big brother card?
Hadrian bit his lip as he thought about it while Draco continued talking, “Nev will have to do it. I am supposed to be dabbling in dark magic. You are hiding your power so let's not draw attention to you. Besides Nev can be scary when he wants to be. The whole shining lion protecting the baby sister from the big bad snake is perfect.”
Hadrian agreed with him and Draco crackled. They would have a lot of fun informing their siblings about their new plan. He was going to take a lot of joy in seeing the Lion roar.
***
Neville was gone when the rest of his roommates woke up. No-one thought much about it. The boy rarely ever was there when they woke up. He chose to wake up early and find one of his siblings unless they had a prank planned.
The four marauders were going down to their common room when they noticed the utter silence coming from the rest of the lions which was unusual. They were never a quiet bunch. There was always some sort of sound coming from their house.
They walked further down the staircase seeing the reason why everyone was so quiet. The marauders were all stunned to see the absolute rage on the face of Neville. His frown became more pronounced as he read a letter in front of the fireplace.
His magic however reacted violently to whatever was written. It was very rare for someone's magic to pulse around them unless they were in the middle of a duel. They could feel his anger in the air as his magic burned in response to his emotions.
The letter burned to ash in his hands without a word or even a wave of his wand. Everyone jumped when Neville roared out, “Solly!” The house elf appeared with a pop, twisting her hands in the tea towel she seemed to be wearing nervously, “Master calls for Solly?” she inquired. Neville didn’t even look at the elf, “Go to your Mistress, bring her to me immediately.”
Remus sucked in a breath almost like he wanted to go to the other teen and try to calm his rage. Sirius wrapped a hand around his arm and shook his head. It was not a good idea to get involved in whatever was going on with Neville right now.
The murderous aura had not disappeared. As the seconds ticked by the room seemed to be drowning in his aura of absolute rage. It was suffocating and terrifying to see the usually calm boy reacting like this.
When Hermione popped into the common room via elf she was wearing half her school uniform. She had on her skirt and shirt but no shoes, socks or even a tie around her neck. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on her head. It seemed like she was in the middle of getting ready when the elf all but kidnapped her.
Hermione looked around the Gryffindor common room shocked and confused. Then she felt the murderous aura of her elder brother and she felt a cold shiver run through her body.
Neville always seemed to be the calmest and most collected of them all. That only meant that when his temper snapped it was better to just jump off a bloody cliff. No one wanted to be the target of all that power and rage. It was down-right terrifying.
Before Hermione could even speak Neville wrapped a hand around her throat and lifted her off the ground, “As your Lord Brother, sister you will answer my questions honestly or I will fucking kill you where you stand. Am I understood?”
***
Several purebloods went nearly catatonic at the use of his power. He had invoked his power not only as her elder brother but as the Lord to her family. Some wondered why he didn’t call upon his right as the Lord of her Birth House. He just invoked his power as her Lord Brother. ‘Lord’ meaning head of a titled family and Brother due to his connection to her. It wasn’t wrong per say. He still invoked his power over her but the wording was weird. Normally one would invoke their right as the ‘Lord to her Birth House’ but this didn’t change the fact that it was binding.
Someone would only invoke their power as her Lord Brother if there were multiple titles in the family. It sounded like Neville was the Head to a more powerful house but not her Birth House. It could also mean that Hermione had her own Title but her elder brother's House was more powerful, or he could have been calling upon his power as Lord Peverell since it was the house that he had taken up the seat for.
If she lied Neville would have to kill her. Old magic like this that linked pureblood families to their blood was dangerous. It was one of the reasons that Lords never invoked it unless absolutely necessary. Meanwhile those who were muggle-raised asked for explanations as others whispered out that Hermione must have done something really bad for Neville to go this far.
***
“Have you been studying Dark Magic?” asked Neville. Hermione nodded her head. Several people gasped but others weren’t so sure why he was going to such an extreme if all she was doing was reading about Dark Magic. “Have you been experimenting with it?” He asked with a serious look.
“Kind off.” Hermione said nervously. Neville turned his back to her and walked away. He put some distance between them before he burst out laughing. Hermione had a hard time not smirking at the rage he was able to call upon. To others it seemed like he was distancing himself. “Explain.” Hermione bit her lip, “We were trying to create counter curses. It's only so dangerous because it cannot be undone. We were trying to fix the damage or at least stop it.”
“Have you been successful?” Hermione nodded her head. “When you say ‘we’ you are talking about Severus.” She nodded her head again and the murderous aura disappeared. “Silly girl, I warned you when you said you were spell creating. Be careful with that magic but as long as you aren’t using it then everything is alright. You know better, stay safe. Solly take her back and return home.”
Neville disappeared out of the common room leaving everyone stunned behind him. Hadrian and Draco smirked in victory as by lunch time the story had spread to the Professors. Now all they all had to do was be patient for a little longer.

Chapter Text

There were few times when Albus Dumbledore felt his true age and it seemed like today was going to be one of those days. Reading from the book that Hades had gifted Alastor, made him feel all his decades. That included the people he had loved and lost. The guilt and remorse over his actions in the past and the lives of the people he could not save.
Albus felt that the Phoenix was a bit strange. Especially since the bird only ever concerned himself with the war. He had never come across a Phoenix who would be so invested in human politics. Fawkes did provide him with a great deal of comfort and help, however he also kept his own involvement to a minimum. His only concern was for his bonded one. Fawkes cared about the school and its students because Albus cared about Hogwarts.
Hades was an unusual one who chose to involve himself greatly in the war. Since he had no reason to believe the bird carried any ill intent he decided to just take the help offered. Miracles didn’t come around often. Then there was the question of where the bird had gotten the book. Albus didn’t think the bird was bonded to any magical person so he assumed Hades stole the book from someone.
Since he could flame through wards and flame back out no wizard would ever know he had been there. Albus hated Dark Magic and everything it had represented. It had taken a man that he dearly loved. A man who dabbled with things that he could not control and in the end it consumed him. It destroyed the parts of Gellert that he had loved.
Albus felt so much shame when he thought of Gellert. Everything that he had done was partly because of him. Albus had allowed himself to be blinded by love. He had allowed his feelings to deafen him to his common sense.
There was a part of himself that was screaming at him that the things Gellert was dabbling in were dangerous, but he hadn’t listened. He had known that Gellert wasn’t the person he thought he was but then again he had his own flaws. Instead smothered the voice of his conscience and allowed himself to be taken in by sweet words and promises.
He had no one to blame but himself for Arianna. He allowed his lust for power to be fueled by Gellert. They made their plans for the future, plans that Gellert changed to suit his own war. However he had helped Gellert. He encouraged the idea instead of realizing the foolishness of what they were going to do. He never had seen a war but he had a helping hand in it.
Gellert started a bloody battle over many different continents that lasted decades. Albus had been terrified to face him. In the end he had done so and it wasn’t even for the right reasons. To his own eternal shame he knew he only faced Gellert because he did not want his past to become public knowledge. It was something that was possible if the war had come to Britain. He ended the war not because of the evil that was going on but because he could no longer close his eyes and pretend it didn’t exist. He could no longer try to pretend that he didn’t have a hand in this madness.
Albus supposed in some ways he hadn’t really changed. He still hoped for the best in people even though he knew that not all people were kind. He still gave too many chances to those who did not deserve it. He still turned a blind eye to cruelty as long as it didn’t affect himself too much. He still had his prejudices towards the house of snakes.
Albus was not so arrogant that he would claim to be perfect. In fact he knew exactly what his shortcomings were and he hoped that he was doing better. He would never truly trust the Slytherins. He was old and he was set in his ways.
Draco Peverell was an enigma in that house. There was a new power structure and many were insisting on leaving the country. He could admit that not all of them were going to join Tom in the war. There were students that were leaving and for now cutting down his army was enough.
Minerva had been right when she had told him that the marauders were going out of control. However this year he noticed that most of their maliciousness had been tamed down. Their pranks were once more targeted towards playful and not hurtful.
He supposed that things were going better this year. He sincerely hoped that this war would come to an end soon even though he couldn’t really see an end in sight. Albus wished that sometimes he could go back and try again with Tom Riddle. He wished that maybe if he had tried to reach him instead of fearing what he would become. Albus could have at least stopped him or limited the amount of damage he was going to bring.
There was always the thought that maybe if he had kept him closer he would have been able to stop him. However if wishes were real then he assumed that no one would ever have any regrets. He had already lost a few friends in the raids. Some of the people that he once taught had been killed however Marcus was one of his friends still alive.
***
The man was in his seventies but he had helped in the war with Gellert. Marcus was a good, honest man and he was an asset in this war. He knew in his heart that even though his sons were intelligent and powerful they would not be able to cope with the political arena now.
If there had been no war the boys would have had time to learn. They would have had time to adjust to the viper pit that was politics. Right now that place was a pit full of venom. Anyone was willing to turn on anyone. Alliances were being made and broken within the same breath.
Marcus was the one holding together the light side. He was their spearhead. He had managed to pull several neutral dark families to their side. This ensured that the Dark Lords minions didn’t manage to pass whatever laws they wanted. If they had the majority votes it would basically hand Tom the country.
If Marcus died his sons would not be able to hold together that many new and fragile alliances. They didn’t have enough experience. As it was they were holding on to their power by the skin of their teeth.
If his research was correct then there was no cure for this magic. He glared at the book. If he didn’t have this then he would never have known what was wrong with his friend. However nothing could change the fact that they didn’t have time to find a solution.
Molly Weasley nee Prewitt was inside with both her brothers. The boys were four years younger than their sister but that never stopped them from being protective of her. She married Arthur Weasley, and he was a good man and made their sister very happy. That was all that mattered to them.
Today they were not here to bask in the warmth of their family, instead they were awaiting the news that Albus would bring them. When Hades had brought Moody the book they quickly realized that the book described symptoms that their father had been experiencing.
After a complicated revealing spell they found that he was inflicted with a very dark spell. Albus had taken the book and left three days ago searching for a solution. Now they were waiting for an answer.
Molly was sitting down mostly due to her large pregnant belly which was once more causing her feet to swell. That didn’t stop her concern for her father. Minerva and the Potters were present as well waiting for an answer to whether or not they could save his life. “I’m sorry to say that there is no cure.” Molly burst into tears and both Fabien and Gideon immediately clutched onto their fathers hand. Almost as if they were trying to reassure themselves that he had not yet left them.
Minerva looked grim as she searched the Headmasters face for something, “Are you sure there is nothing we can do?” Albus startled at the almost accusing tone that her voice had taken, “All the books say there is no cure. Even if we were to start on trying to make a cure it would take time. Time which I can assure you we do not have. The curse is extremely complicated. Studying it alone will take weeks before we can attempt to reverse it.”
Minerva had been extremely close with Marcus and his wife Melissa. Even though the woman had passed, she kept her door open for Marcus. She always had time for him and his family. He was one of the few people in the world she called her friend. To see him and his children suffer like this just wasn’t fair so she took a leap of faith. “What about the Peverell girl? It's common knowledge that she and Snape are working on Dark Magic. There were even rumors that they were trying to reverse it. It is possible that they may have a cure.”
The Potters gasped in shock while Albus just shook his head, “I have heard the rumors but we cannot be sure that it isn’t anything more than just that. I admit that Severus Snape is intelligent but do you honestly believe that two fifteen year olds can delve into such dark magic and find a solution? It is a great risk.”
Minerva rolled her eyes, “It's worth the chance even if it isn’t written down yet then we can at least try. I would know that we had done everything possible to try and find a cure.” Albus just shrugged, “I will leave the decision to Marcus. I did not consult them because I didn’t believe that it would help however it is your life. If you wish for me to ask for their help then I will.”
***
Marcus bit his lip. He honestly agreed with Albus. As smart as any fifteen year old could be it was highly unlikely that they would have been able to cure something as difficult and as complicated as this. However on the other hand he could see the pleading expressions of his children.
None of the Prewitt children knew anything about these kids but there was a chance. So long as that chance existed, they would hope and pray that their father would not leave them yet. Not after losing their mother, not in times like this, when they needed him so much.
Marcus sighed hoping that his children realized that there was a good chance that the only thing that they were doing currently was delaying what he could feel was inevitable. Even though he missed Melissa so very much he also wished that he had more time here with his children.
His Melissa was on the other side, waiting and watching. He knew it in his heart which was why he knew he had the strength to go on for a little while longer. Just long enough for this nightmare to be over. So that he could leave this Earth knowing that his children would be safe.
Now he was looking at the end too soon. He still had too much to teach them and he didn’t have enough time to do so. Death was not something to be feared. However he did fear for his children and what would befall them once he was gone.
***
The Quadruplets were all sitting by the lake with Severus and Lily. Severus and Lily were busy talking and laughing. They were locked in their own little bubble of their friendship. Generally they were enjoying themselves and catching up. It had been a while since the two of them were able to just sit down and talk to each other.
The Peverell siblings seemed to be going over something that dealt with politics. Just another reason the two friends excused themselves into their bubble to give them some sort of privacy. It had been a while since the two friends had any time to talk to just each other.
The Peverell siblings were looking at the bills that had been passed after Marcus had died. Draco was sure that they needed to see how the bills fit into the raids. If Marcus didn’t die then whatever plans Voldemort had to use the Wizengamot would fall apart. They would need to be ready for his back-up plan. A plan that they wouldn’t know anything about unless they found a spy.
Hadrian was impatiently waiting to see if Albus would approach Hermione and Severus for help. They wanted to go with her or at the very least let Draco go with her. He was capable of brewing the potion that would be needed but there was also the fact that they got aura reading from Draco.
It had been Malfoy blood magic which only Draco was born with after many generations. A gift that was now shared with his brothers and sister. Draco was able to read people’s magic, allowing him to see as curses worked themselves into a person's magic and ate away at them.
Aura seeing was great for healers. However Hermione had very little control over the power and Draco was the best at reading people. He would have to diagnose Marcus Prewitt using his sight which would tell them how deeply the magic had been embedded.
They were working with guesses towards the time he had been attacked and the time he had been infected for. If they wanted the cleansing to work they needed to know how bad this was going to be. It would be a team effort to save his life.
It would also give away a few of their secrets but they needed the man alive more than they needed to keep their secrets. Hadrian glanced at the sky and frowned. The day was almost over and Albus still hadn’t arrived. They were running out of time.
***
Neville didn’t want to admit it but it seemed that their plan may have failed. He asked his siblings if they were ready to head inside when they noticed McGonagall walking towards them quickly. “Miss. Peverell, Mr. Snape please come with me. We believe that you may be able to help us.”
Draco could see Hadrian nearly sag in relief while Neville just frowned, seemingly concerned for his sister, “Professor, have they done something wrong?” he asked. “No child, the Headmaster just believes that there is something that they can help us with.”
Minerva watched in shock as Neville Peverell turned to his brother and gestured with his head that the boy should get moving. Draco Peverell, the Slytherin, rose and helped his sister to her feet saying, “I shall be accompanying her.” Minerva moved to dismiss the boy however Hadrian cut her off before she could, “Draco goes with them or they both stay here. We do not take being separated lightly Professor.”
Shocked by the amount of authority coming from a Hufflepuff, Minerva said nothing as Hermione, Severus and Draco followed after her. Before anyone could stop her Lily reached out and grabbed Draco’s sleeve of his robe stating, “I’m coming too.” Draco just stared at Lily not really understanding why she would want to come and completely speechless Minerva spoke for him, “Miss Evans I highly doubt that is necessary.”
Lily raised her chin stubbornly, “I’m not going for Draco or even Mia. I’m going for Severus. Someone, that as Professors, you and your colleagues allowed to be harmed. I do not trust that you will return the closest thing I have to a brother unharmed.” Minerva was rendered speechless at the fact that one of her own cubs trusted her so little. She didn’t even notice as Draco turned to Lily and basically asked her ‘what the hell’. Lily just shrugged at him, “I really don’t believe that they care about what happens to him. This way you can look out for Hermione and I can be there for him. They might have each other but they need people to watch their backs.”
The group was taken to the Headmasters office, from there they flooed to the Prewitt home where they met the Headmaster. He gave them all some tea and sat them down to explain why they were here and to introduce them to Marcus Prewitt and his family.
The Potters and Moody watched as the Prewitt siblings watched each other and their guests nervously. The group was stunned by the arrival of two extra students. Especially when Lily stated quite frankly that she didn’t believe that he headmaster and deputy headmistress cared about the life of her brother.
She came because she believed that he would need her. If not for protection then to know at the very least he wasn’t alone. No one had been able to say anything else to the harsh truth that came out of her mouth. Dumbledore fought not to wince at the lack of faith she showed in him.
When the explanations were given Hermione turned to Draco and said, “It’s a good thing you decided to tag along.” Several people looked at him weirdly because they didn’t know that he would be needed. Draco rolled his eyes and turned to Marcus, “I’m going to diagnose you now.” Before anyone could say anything Draco’s eyes glowed white. Albus sucked in a deep breath and muttered, “Aura reader.”
The Potters seemed to be shocked that there was someone with such a rare gift in their home. It had been a long time since anyone had seen this magic. “The curse is reaching his heart. We don’t have much time.” His words dropped into the group like blocks of ice. Hermione and Severus ignored the cry of sorrow that came from Molly.
Hermione bit her lip, “How much time? The potion needs to be brewed.” Draco shook his head, “The pain potions and pepper up have done much to keep him from feeling the full effects. In six hours they will no longer be able to mask his pain. In another six hours, the curse will be in every major organ and by sunrise his heart will give out. I give us less than 24 hours.”
Severus had summoned a muggle notebook and was already writing things down, “Draco and I will have to make the potion. He will be able to keep up with the complexity of it. Hermione, you and Lily set up for the cleansing ritual.” Draco turned to the Potters, “We need a potions lab.” Fleamont Potter led them to the Prewitt family Potions lab so that they could begin.
Hermione on the other hand asked for a room large enough to transfigure a pool. Euphemia Potter led the two girls to an unused room that had no furniture inside so that they could transfigure it.
The Prewitt siblings followed the two girls hoping that they would explain what was going to happen. They were shocked to see Hermione silently casting and transfiguring a deep pool with steps on it by the time they walked into the room. “Solly.” She called out and Molly nearly jumped when a house elf popped inside the room. “Bring me the crystals from my study and the orbs as well, please.” The elf handed her three crystal orbs which she placed in a triangular formation around the pool.
Then she asked Lily to fill it with water. The red haired girl simply nodded. She trusted that her friend and her brother knew what they were doing. She followed their orders with a promise to herself to ensure she picked their brains on how they did this later.
Gideon couldn’t stand not knowing any longer and asked, “How does this work?” Hermione chuckled at them, “If you wanted to see the more complex preparations you should have gone with Severus and Draco. The potion is the complex part and then the actual ritual. This is the easy part.”
Fabien rolled his eyes, “We remember Severus Snape. If we put one foot into that lab he would curse us to hell and back.” Gideon chuckled, “Technically before he killed us he would look down at us and ask if we wanted to get ourselves blown up. Then we would be ordered to get out of his way before he blew us up on purpose.”
Fabien nodded his head, “We know better than to get in the way of a potions master in front of a cauldron especially if it’s a complicated potion. We appreciate that you are helping us. We just wanted to understand what you guys are doing.”
Lily rolled her eyes at him, “More like you want us to explain what we are doing to your father and ensure that a couple of fifteen year olds don’t accidentally kill him or injure him further.” Hermione shushed her, "It's only natural, he is their father and they love him, they want to protect him. The spell is dangerous because it's not just flooding your fathers body with Dark Magic, it's that it's foreign magic.”
Molly narrowed her eyes but Hermione ignored her and continued her explanation, “Magic that does not belong to him, even if it wasn’t a curse would still be dangerous to him because it's someone else’s magic.” Lily nodded her head. She remembered Severus telling her something along those lines, “A human body isn’t capable of holding more than one specific type of magic. Every person's magic is different. You cannot hold magic that is not yours inside yourself.” Hermione beamed at her, “Well done Lily however this is also damaging his organs. The crystals are used to store the magic. A sample of your fathers magic in one and the other two remain empty.”
Hermione stopped to check her notes for a moment then continued with her explanation, “The potion is added inside this pool creating a cleansing pool and a conduct at the same time. Then we start the chant. The crystal full of magic acts as an identifier, pulling anything that isn’t your fathers magic out and sending it into the remaining two spheres.”
Molly bit her lip understanding the basics but also realizing the enormity of what these children had been able to accomplish all on their own, “How long until the potion is ready?” Hermione checked her watch, “You should get some rest. We have at least another six hours before we can begin.”
***
The time passed slowly until Draco and Severus emerged with a violet coloured potion vial in their hands. Severus added the potion to the water turning it a pale purple. The crystal that their father had filled with his magic signature turned a yellowish orange colour and then they were ready.
Severus had already been exhausted. Hermione knew this would happen and instead taught Lily the chant. She showed Lily how to feed Hermione her strength. She would ensure that the Dark Magic which would fight not to be released would be contained in the crystals.
The witches had already burned the sage to cleanse the area as they waited for Marcus. He entered the pool as his friends watched in awe. Once he was completely submerged the girls began their chant. The people around them gasped the air filled with magic.
Marcus glowed a yellowish orange colour. A strand of magic connected him to the first crystal orb. The strand of magic slowly turned black. Then the strand of magic connected to the next orb. The third orb flashed different colors. It was black then orange and then blood red.
Hermione’s chanting grew louder as the orb was forced to glow black. There was a moment when all the magic pulsed in their air before everything just burst. Marcus felt his magic rush back towards him and the two black orbs sunk to the bottom of the pool.
The backlash of magic threw Lily and Hermione off their feet. The two girls hit the wall behind them and collapsed. Everyone else who was pushed backwards started panicking as they moved towards the three unconscious people in the room.

Chapter Text

Lily was not ashamed to say had no idea what Severus and Hermione worked on in their own time, Mostly, because she knew they were researching Dark Magic. When Lily had come to Hogwarts everyone in her dorm had told her the evils of Dark Magic.
Then they found out she was friends with Severus and they all warned her to stay away. They said that the magic he was studying was dangerous but she didn’t believe them. In her eleven year old mind Severus was her friend first. She believed in him until she took a look into one of his books.
The spells and potions inside described things that gave her nightmares for months. It terrified her, and for the first time she saw Severus the way everyone else saw him. She saw him read and understand things so very much above their level and it scared her.
Everyone always told her that she was very intelligent and she had a bright future. However she knew that her friend was farther ahead of the rest of her year mates. She knew that he had been bored in his classes. He was constantly studying ahead and getting involved in advanced magic. No one wanted to reward him for it because his intelligence scared them. Just like it scared her.
It was also around that time that Lily had forbidden him from talking about Dark Magic. She just didn’t want to know the things he knew, because she knew the truth. The only way to create a counter spell would be if one was able to master the spell as well.
She didn’t want to know how dangerous he could be when pushed. Then Hermione had come and she realized how foolish and naïve her thinking truly was. The only thing Hermione told her was that magic was neither light nor dark. It was a gift. The only thing that should be judged was the actions of the person who used the magic and not the magic itself.
She realized that she was looking at the world in light or dark and not in shades of grey. Severus Snape had always lived in a world of grey. That was something she was never able to fully understand because she had never suffered. Her family lived in a good home with a stable income. She had two loving parents and a sister, who when she wasn’t going completely insane at the mention of magic, loved her.
Lily never struggled much for anything not the way her friend did. He struggled for money, food, clothes and even love. Which was why she couldn’t understand him. She had no idea how to reach him as he lost himself into that world of bitterness and hatred until he met Hermione.
Hermione had managed to guide him out of that deep hole that he was digging himself into. Lily on the other hand finally gathered the courage to actually try and understand her friend. She wanted to know what he was doing, only to be completely lost on the theory. However she was able to understand that he was truly trying to help people. At least with Hermione by his side, she was sure that he had managed to actually set himself on a path to doing something good, whereas before all he was doing was researching and learning.
That was the reason why when Professor McGonagall came and practically demanded that Severus and Hermione follow her, she immediately rushed to his side. She was sure that Hermione would defend him until her last breath but Hermione had her brother.
It seemed only fair that Severus had someone at his side. Even if it was only for moral support and the honest truth was that she wanted Severus to know that she would support him truly this time. Her housemates had once managed to put doubt in her mind about his character, but after the summer that she had shared with him, this time she knew better. She wanted him to know that she would stand by his side. Even if the world would turn from him once again she wouldn’t.
Lily finally found her friend. The boy that she had known from childhood was finally in front of her once more. She knew what kind of man he would become. She wanted to support him because she honestly and truly did not trust that anyone else gave a damn about him.
No one had ever tried to truly understand him. They all just looked at his grumpy outlook on life. No one ever knew him and so it was easier to hate him. She couldn’t just let him go and wait for him to come back. She probably would have lost her mind waiting to hear back from him.
Hearing that the Headmaster needed her friend's help had thrown her so much that she almost missed the big reveal. Draco was an aura reader and that was something that he had never told her. Once more she was shocked. It also made her come to terms with the fact that even though she and Draco cared very much for each other she still didn’t know him all that well. They had a lot in common and even spent a lot of time with each other however Draco never really spoke about himself.
He spoke about his brothers and their time together. They spoke about the present, Hogwarts, classes, and everything that happened recently but nothing personal. Even though she shared a lot of her family history and general stuff about herself Draco never told her much about his life. She didn’t know about his life before he came to Britain. The fact that she didn’t know about his power was just another thing that she did not know. It was also something that she filed away to deal with later.
Right now Hermione was explaining the ritual and she was terrified that she would mess it up. She didn’t want to be the cause of the poor man’s death. “Why can’t we use someone with more experience?” asked Lily, looking around she saw the Potters, and the Prewitt’s.
Hermione shook her head, “Rituals work best when the magic is balanced. If two people cast the same spell at the same time there will be a difference in the strength of the magic. When two people do a chant in a ritual there cannot be too much of a lull in the strength or in the control.”
Hermione gestured to the others as she explained, “Professor McGonagall is much older than us. Her magic has already matured but also has become refined. Her control due to her mastery is basically absolute. She cannot chant with me.” Hermione waved her wand and Lily could feel her magic, “My magic is too young, not yet matured, and is still growing. The gap is too big, same goes for the Headmaster and the Potters. Mrs. Weasley is pregnant and her baby’s magic interferes with her magic.”
Molly smiled sheepishly as Hermione explained, “Her magic is unstable and her brothers are in the same boat as the other adults. Over the age of seventeen with their majority already reached. You and I are close in age and power levels. If we chant together we can maintain the ritual's balance.” The people listening were stunned at the amount of knowledge the fifteen year old girl carried and the depth of the knowledge. Lily merely nodded her head and went back to learning. She would try to understand what they were going to be doing.
Lily was acting as Hermione’s anchor giving her a lifeline back to reality. Her magic also provided Hermione with strength as she separated the magic flowing through the room. When Marcus submerged himself into the pool, all three of them had been connected. The crystals served as storage however it was Hermione who was separating the magic into the containers.
Lily needed to guide Hermione’s magic back to the right place. She also needed to give her a boost of energy when the dark magic fought back. It would not want to leave Marcus, especially now that it had nearly finished draining him dry. Both girls felt the strain of what they were doing immediately. They were dealing with magic in such a pure and exposed form that it took a lot of energy. More energy than Hermione had available right now.
The ritual would have worked best when she was in her nineteen year old body. However this body had not yet been conditioned for this type of magic. She could feel the Dark Magic being contained. She could also feel the clean pure magic of Marcus being returned to his body. However her head felt light and her muscles felt like liquid. Before she could even be 100% sure that Marcus was safe she had already been hit by the backlash.
As the two girls dropped to the ground Draco and Severus were already moving. They picked them up and carried them into the next room. The Prewitt twins dived into the pool and pulled their father up and out of the pool. Their father who under all the medical spells that they had done turned up with the same results. He was fine, tired, and drained but he would be up after a good night's sleep.
***
Several hours passed before Lily or Hermione woke up. When they did they were both starving. The Potters, Prewitt’s and the Headmaster were waiting for them. “I’m happy to see that both you girls are alright.” Said the Headmaster. Hermione shrugged, “We never actually did the ritual before. We didn’t know how taxing it would be but I am glad that you are alright now Lord Prewitt.”
The man nodded his head to her and raised his glass, “I owe you four my life.” Draco just shrugged, “Your life is important in this war. It wasn’t just out of the goodness of our hearts.” Draco’s words dropped like blocks of ice into the room and the Headmaster couldn’t help but speak, “My boy, this war is no place for children. It's best you keep out of it. We will keep quiet about your help so that no one will target you.”
Draco rolled his eyes as Lily hunched into herself and tried to make herself seem smaller. She didn’t want to be caught in this because if she knew anything, then it was that the Peverell siblings hated being treated like children. “Dumbledore, you forget your place. This is not a school where you sit on your throne and look down on your subjects. This is the table where Lord Prewitt is passing his gratitude to a son of the House of Peverell, a daughter to the House of Peverell, and a son to the House of Prince. My Lord Brother will be in contact with Lord Prewitt to discuss a possible alliance. As the Lord of a Minor House with no power, title or standing in society I ask that you remember your place.”
Molly Weasley nearly fainted in absolute rage, “How dare you speak to him like that?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at the pregnant witch. Her gaze was so cold that Molly actually sat down, “Mrs. Weasley I will ask that you remember your place in society as well. You were raised as a daughter to the house of Prewitt. As such I expect that you conduct yourself with more grace considering it was your father whose life we saved.”
All three Prewitt siblings snapped their jaws shut at the reminder as she continued, “Regardless of age, we are who we are. As such, that grants us power. Power in a war is always sought and regardless of age we will be targeted. We will not stand back and allow a half-blood with daddy issues to make claims that are false while reeking terror across the country. He is murdering innocent people in their beds like a coward.”
Dumbledore was slightly alarmed at the amount of knowledge of politics that these children had, but he was also sad. They were children. This war shouldn’t have to involve them. Now they wanted to throw their lives away while trying to fight a war that they did not have a place in. They needed to focus on their studies, not on the war. This was a conversation for adults no matter how much power they believed that they held. “Enough of this, you children will be escorted back to Hogwarts where you will concentrate on your upcoming exams, not this war. It is not your place.”
Draco turned his emerald green gaze on the headmaster and raised a mocking eyebrow as Hermione stood up and removed her jumper. “It was also not my place to be pinned down by a mad woman with the dark mark burned into her skin. She cursed me until my vocal cords tore. It was not my place to beg for mercy which was never given even though I was only fourteen years old at the time.”
She ignored the looks of horror on the adults faces, “Because I would not give up my blood status she carved into me like I was the Thanksgiving turkey. Do not tell us our place is at school because of our age, Dumbledore. I can promise you, out there in the real world without your rose colored glasses we are fair targets.”
Several horrified gazes met Draco’s cold gaze as they saw the word mudblood carved into the teens arm and even Dumbledore turned pale at the mark. “Life wasn’t fair when our parents were murdered. It wasn’t fair when we endured our sisters' screams and no adult came to rescue us. We blasted through the wards and ripped apart every person we came across because we had no other choice.”
Draco’s grin was sharp and it sent cold shivers down every adult's spine, “When the adults finally found us, we were covered in the blood of those older, bigger, and stronger than us. We had our sister with us. We survived and now you expect us to sit back and do nothing?”
Dumbledore could only shake his head in sadness. This was not something for children to see or even have to endure but then again they were right. “I cannot just allow you to join and fight.” Draco rolled his eyes, “Didn’t expect you too. Neville will work with Lord Prewitt on the political front. The house of Peverell carries a lot of power there and the rest of us can be useful as healers and researchers for now. “
Hermione nodded, “Give your people portkeys. If they get injured or separated then they can escape and come here for medical treatment. Many of the dark curses that death eaters use, we created some counter curses that could possibly save some of your friends' lives.”
Hermione rose as well, “Whether you choose to accept our help as healers or researchers is your choice however as a Lord you cannot dismiss Neville after all he is a Lord. We can help you and we are offering to do so where you can ensure that we are not taking unnecessary risks. If you cut us out, we will take this war into our hands.”
Lily and Severus sat back and said nothing while the two Peverell siblings went head to head with the headmaster. They followed when they left the table in silence. “Why did you guys do that? Go head to head with Dumbledore like that?” asked Lily.
Hermione shook her head, “The Headmaster isn’t a bad man. He really is one of the best ways to defeat the Dark Lord but he is very manipulative and short sighted. He sees the world in only one way and if something doesn’t fit into that perfect idea of the world then he dismisses it. He also has no problems with sacrificing a few people if it means winning the war.”
Draco nodded his head, “We want to end this war but not at the cost of innocent people. Dumbledore would feel guilty but he would still go through with it. He has his faults, this is just one of them. Just because we are young he won’t want us to help even though it could be the only way to save members of the Order. Those are people who are willing to risk their lives to stop that monster. We have to fight his thick headedness and the Dark Lord.”
Severus just shrugged and said, “We are your friends. If you believe that you know what you’re doing then that’s good enough for us. Just be careful, you don’t want to make him an enemy.”
***
The four friends returned to Hogwarts and Lily and Severus went to bed. Hermione and Draco went to debrief Hadrian and Neville in the room of requirements.
Neville face palmed himself once they exited the pensive, “You two really went for Dumbledore’s throat didn’t you?”
Hermione just shrugged, “He was really pushing his luck and that condensing tone of his voice grated on my ears. I couldn’t help it.”
Hadrian shook his head, “No you both lost your temper. Why did we send the two of you again? Neither of you can control your temper when you get pissed and then you feed on each other’s anger.”
Draco looked a bit sheepish and replied, “It wasn’t really that bad.”
Hadrian hit the table that they were seated at and all but roared out in rage, “Yes it was! You both gave away too much. Now Dumbledore will look into our supposed kidnapping. There are traces of it but we don’t actually know what they will find there.”
Neville nodded, “We had a reason for not mentioning our kidnapping too much. It was because we don’t actually know what happened there. Death never gave us that memory. He only said that there would be evidence of our existence.”
Hadrian groaned, “You called him out on too much too soon. You played too many cards at the same time. We don’t even know if we will be able to get Severus named as the Prince Heir and you called him a son of the house of Prince.”
Hermione and Draco looked horrified as they realized how much they actually gave away without actually knowing it. In their anger they had spewed out as much as they could without realizing how many of their plans had not played out yet. They hadn’t meant for it to happen. Dumbledore just made them so mad.
Neville sighed and responded, “You both got frustrated and angry when he treated you like children, but you forgot that in this world that’s all we were until you brought attention to our experiences. The anonymity we wore as children was a shield.”
Draco sighed as he realized what was happening and said, “A shield that we no longer have, brother. They will start digging into our past now which unfortunately we cannot remember. It's too soon for us to be brought into the light. We haven’t had enough time but we cannot undo it so we will have no choice but to figure it out as we go along.”
Hadrian nodded his head, “We will have to watch our steps very carefully. As well as try and figure out what Dumbledore knows. The rest of you do not bring any more attention to yourselves. I don’t even wanna hear about a detention until this year is over.”
Hadrian turned to Neville, “Neville get a meeting with Lord Prewitt and start putting our policies into place. Hermione work with Severus on the list of Dark curses that don’t have cures yet. Draco, full control of the Snake pit, any opposition should disappear.”

Chapter Text

Hadrian couldn’t remember the last time he had been this stressed. Well if he really tried he would have assumed it was sometime during the war in his other life. However he honestly didn’t really want to remember that time in his life because he was tired.
He all but collapsed into his bed in Peverell manor. He did not leave until the next day sometime after noon. After the mess Hermione and Draco made with Dumbledore the siblings all but disappeared from public view during the last few weeks at Hogwarts.
They were able to pass much of their behavior off as stress for OWLS but the truth was that they were all walking on eggshells around Dumbledore. Hades had basically moved in with Fawkes, spending every spare moment he could trying to find out what Dumbledore was thinking and how much he was trying to research.
Dumbledore was good and that was something they could all admit. He had started with their supposed father and the reason why he had gone into hiding, while also researching their mother. Hadrian had no idea what he had found out but the reports that he had managed to find were good enough that he stopped looking into their parents. However he was currently looking into their separation and their Godfather.
Hadrian was also sincerely hoping that he wouldn’t find out anything about their inheritance and Lordships. Neville was Lord Gryffindor not Lord Peverell. Technically Draco wasn’t wrong to refer to Neville as his ‘Lord Brother’ because it was the truth. Their lie however came into play when they realized that it was the wrong brother they believed to carry the Peverell title. If they really wanted to, they could sue Neville for ‘line theft’ even though Hadrian had known what was happening. They had technically been lying by omission to the public.
Neville was their best bet to play with politics. He was a Gryffindor which meant that people would almost always believe that he would be on the light side. No one would be surprised when Neville voted for equality. He would also be able to make more alliances as well as voice his opinion to the light side to ensure that they take a more aggressive stance on the Death Eaters earlier.
If Hadrian was put into the spotlight now then people would watch him closely. That was something that they were all actively avoiding. Draco was a Slytherin; it would take too much time for people to trust him. There was too much suspicion on him and unfortunately for Hermione, the political arena was mostly dominated by males.
Wizards didn’t have the same view as muggles when it came to women. But women getting involved with politics were still not something that was seen very often. Witches were born with the same amount of power that wizards were born with, and as such they didn’t have the same issue with muggle women and men who had their society dictated by who was stronger.
There were even several Houses which were passed from mother to daughter. Homosexual marriages were common in the magical world as well. Blood adoptions existed and allowed same sex couples to adopt a child into their family and their family magic.
However during times of war women were kept safe as they were the only ones who could carry more children. Their population was already so small. The magic world needed to keep women as safe as possible which was the reason why right now the political arena was a cesspit.
Hermione also had other tasks and research. She didn’t have the time to deal with politicians and the drama that followed which brought the entire cycle back to Neville. He was not ready to announce his title as Lord Gryffindor.
The knowledge of the Peverell family lineage wouldn’t put a target on his back so large that Tom would start hunting them personally, but he would want to completely destroy the last ancestor left of the Gryffindor founder. He had targeted what was left of the founders lines in the second war. They couldn’t afford that much attention on them, especially since they were still in Hogwarts.
Hadrian groaned as he rolled off his bed and saw an amused Hermione watching him from the doorway, “Still stressing over everything that has been happening?” she asked.
Hadrian nodded his head, “I don’t exactly have a mind link with Tom anymore to know what he is thinking. This past year many of his plans have fallen through. Sirius even got Lord Black to come back to Britain and deal with their family. Tom has taken some heavy blows and things are still more or less quiet. Don’t you think it's strange?”
Hermione nodded her head thoughtfully, “I did think it was strange however we still don’t know the extent of his madness. When he was brought back in our time he was unstable and that could clearly be seen. His followers couldn’t even deny his madness anymore.”
Hadrian scoffed as he thought of Lucius and the fact that even he couldn’t deny that his master was insane. He was however stuck with the consequences of his choices and was slowly being driven insane as well. He sometimes wondered if the dark mark had affected some of his followers with his madness. “However we don’t know what his state of mind is in this time line. He created the horcruxes but did it immediately affect his mind, or did it happen slowly and the resurrection somehow make it worse? I hate to say it but we might need to take a look at Tom so we can have an idea of what we’re dealing with.”
Hermione was still talking and Hadrian was listening with half an ear until she said, “The Tom that we are used to dealing with had anger issues and his moves were not all logical. He grew obsessed with certain tasks and didn’t do anything else until he dealt with whatever he was obsessed with at the time. He used violence as a weapon and ruled through fear.”
She stopped speaking for a moment, waiting until Hadrian nodded to show that he was still listening to her. She tried to smile at him and picked up where she left off, “Things haven’t reached the level that we are used to dealing with yet. We don’t know whether or not a response like this is normal or not.”
Hadrian threw a knife at the dart board set up in his room in frustration and replied, “I know but the bastard just won’t show his face. We don’t know what we’re dealing with because he hasn’t been seen in so long. I’m not even sure how many people have actually seen him.”
He gestured towards the newspapers, “The public still think of him as some sort of boogeyman even though his servants are running around trying to cause a panic. A panic that hasn’t spread the amount of fear he wanted because we saved so many of those lives. While saving people is a good thing it doesn’t change the fact that no one is actually taking the threat seriously.”
Hermione slowly exited the room and left her brother to work off his stress. Ever since they had returned from Prewitt manor Hadrian had been bound tighter than a snake. She was shocked that he hadn’t snapped at someone in the school. She grimaced as she remembered fifth year and the fact that Hadrian hadn’t been able to stop snapping at people.
She thought it would probably be best if she returned to Severus. He had started to slowly try to change into his animagus form and it seemed like his form would be a crow. She found that the bird oddly suited him. It had taken him most of the year in his own free time to study the work so that he would be able to do it. His Transfiguration marks however did go up and he was sure that he managed to get an O on his OWLS.
***
The summer passed slowly yet quickly at the same time before they knew it two weeks had already passed. There were still no leads on what Tom could be doing. On the other hand, Severus had managed to get an actual job this summer in a potions shop in the Alley.
The man had been deeply impressed by his skill and offered an apprenticeship to him. Severus would work during all his school holidays and if he was able to meet the requirements then he would graduate Hogwarts with his Mastery in Potions.
Hermione had been so proud especially since he had earned this all on his own. He didn’t owe anyone anything which meant that his future was his own. It seemed like this time Severus would go down in History as the youngest person to gain a Potions Mastery even earlier than he had managed to in the previous timeline.
Hermione had dragged Hadrian out of his room while she ran some errands in Diagon Alley. Afterwards she was going to visit Severus. Hadrian had spent the past two weeks either camping out with Fawkes as Hades or stuck to his bed or working himself to death.
Hadrian needed some fresh air. He also needed to stop stressing so much even though she was worried she couldn’t have Hadrian go through some sort of mental breakdown. They just didn’t have the time for that, maybe after the war.
Hadrian drew the hood of his black cloak over his head and sighed. He was not going to have some sort of mental breakdown however Hermione could be stubborn and pig headed. When she refused to listen, it was just easier to give in, and let her have her way. He just really needed to feel needed. Hadrian had never done well as acting as the General in the war because it was always the General who was played last as the trump card.
Hadrian had spent nearly an entire year off the chess board. He was being hidden by his siblings, ensuring that he would be over shadowed and making sure that he was never in the spotlight. While he had moved several pieces into new positions, it didn’t change the fact that he had done nothing useful.
Hadrian loathed being in the spotlight. He hated being the Hero, the boy-who-lived, the savior of the wizarding world. He never wanted any of those titles. He never wanted to be the person who led a damned army into a war that they had inherited. All he ever wanted was a family, and that something that at every turn, Tom Riddle had taken from him.
Hadrian wasn’t just fighting this war to save the innocent. He was fighting this war because of all the people that he had lost, even though a version of them would live. There were people that had died for him and that would never change. They lived on in his memories but it was more than just revenge. It was also about his future and the family that he wanted to create.
Tom Riddle was like a mad dog that would go out and attack others just to spread his own pain and misery. He had to stop him, he had no other choice because they would never be able to just live and ignore each other. Riddle would always put the ones that he loved in danger and Hadrian would always protect those that he loved.
Hadrian was just trying to take his mind off the fact that he had been unable to do anything that mattered. It frustrated him, and took him back to the time when he had been an eleven year old puppet. A puppet that ran around like a headless chicken full of rage and bitterness, quick to jump head long into danger even though he had no idea what he was doing.
There were times when he missed the arrogance of his youth. The confidence that he once had, that no matter how many times he found himself in a strange or dangerous situation, he would be able to survive. He missed the ignorance he once had and even sometimes he missed the naivety that could have been seen in his eyes.
He missed the person he had been before he had seen true war. He missed the person he had been before he had spilt blood no matter how innocent or guilty the person had been. He had still killed and crossing that line changes you. It had after all changed him from a little boy to soldier. ‘War makes soldiers out of children.’ He thought to himself as he pictured his adult self, wearing tattered clothing and covered in blood.
He pulled the hood of his cloak further down covering his face and then he pulled on his leather gloves. The gloves actually belonged to Draco since he used them to hide the snake shaped burns on his palms. Hadrian had grabbed a pair as Hermione dragged him out of his room. He had pulled on the cloak and the gloves and pretended he could blend in with the shadows.
He really didn’t want to be outside and the slightly menacing look he was currently sporting kept everyone away from him while Hermione and Severus enjoyed their ice cream. He even went so far as to ignore his sisters glowering at him.
Hadrian was happy for her. She had found love with Severus and that was something that she would live for once this war was over. It was something that he was still unable to find in either of his lives but then again there was still plenty of time for that. At least he hoped that there would be, after all he intended to survive the final battle.
Hadrian let out a deep sigh as decided to go for a walk. He needed to work off the nervous energy that he could feel. He had a pit in his stomach and he bit his lip. Every single one of his senses said that something was coming even though he had no idea when it was going to happen. He couldn’t get rid of the voice in his head which was basically screaming at him that things were going wrong somehow.
He sighed again and this time he was shocked to see his breath. He could also feel the temperature around him dropping and he turned in horror as he recognized what this was. There was only one creature in the world that brought this type of blood freezing cold and soul deep sadness. Hadrian looked to the sky and paled.
There were dozens of them. They were like a black cloud and they swarmed the alley. People were already running and screaming in fear. Several people were already lying cold and soulless on the ground. There were also several hunched in corners hiding in terror and in all that horror there was a deep rumbling shriek of laughter.
Hadrian felt his magic recognize who was in front of him. The Dark Lord himself appeared before the innocent people of Diagon Alley, shrieking in laughter in the face of the horror that he had brought upon the helpless.
His blood red eyes shone in glee as the surrounding death eaters laughed with him. Hadrian couldn’t help but be surprised that he still had a nose. He was still bald but having a nose actually made him seem more human. It was surprisingly easy for Hadrian to recognize Tom Riddle in Voldemort’s features this time around. He was pale but not as chalky white as he had been before.
Hadrian felt his eyes narrow in rage. He also felt several Aurors appear in the Alley and they cast the spell as quickly as they could. There were about five different patronus animals running around trying to fend off the swarms of dementors; however it wasn’t enough. There were hundreds of dementors.
Hadrian raised his wand and muttered the spell. He watched as a huge Thestral shot out of his wand and started herding the dementors away. For a moment Hadrian missed when it was Prongs that protected him, however it had been a long time since he had viewed his father as his protector. Instead with the amount of Death that surrounded him it made more sense that a Thestral was now his patronus.
Tom became enraged at how easily the unusual patronus seemed to be battling his army of dementors and ordered his Death Eaters to start attacking. People started screaming in fear and running for their lives as they shot out mass killing curses at nearly everyone in sight.
There were several Hogwarts students who screamed. They took cover under tables, chairs and walls when Hermione and Severus jumped into battle. They started to shield and hex anyone who came near them. A blasting curse hit the building above them and while Severus was able to jump out of the way Hermione was pinned by the rubble.
A death eater saw her struggling and laughed at her while advancing towards her muttering about her being pretty and all the fun he would have with his toy. Hermione shrieked, calling for Severus who was already running towards her.
Tom’s attention had been caught by the girl who was pinned under some rubble. She was powerful, he was sure of that. She had after all sent a variety of cutting, severing and blasting hexes and curses at anyone who so much as came near the building. Then she was pinned under the rubble and who he assumed was Avery senior advanced on her.
This was a man who took much pleasure in raping young women violently and leaving them to bleed to death and he could see the appeal. Her emerald green eyes were pretty and her hair was so red it nearly looked black. She was quite pretty and it also seemed like she was quite the spitfire, however she screamed for someone specific to save her and that irked him.
She was the pretty maiden calling for her Prince to save her, it was pathetic. The Dark Lord felt his sneer and sent the killing curse hurling towards her only for a piece of marble to protect her as Severus Snape stood against the Dark Lord himself to protect someone that he loved.
***
Hermione watched in horror as Severus stood against him. As powerful as he was they both knew he was going to get himself killed. Hermione once more cried out this time she called out with her magic as well, unaware of the attention that she drew as the Order of Phoenix arrived. “Hadrian!”
The call echoed throughout the Alley and Dumbledore was about to intervene to protect his students when something strange happened which made every person in the alley pause. The air itself seemed to pause and vibrate with magic as what looked to be black fog rolled over the area.
Before anyone could even voice a question, a pair of boots appeared, followed by what seemed to be a boy, assembling from the mist with a cloak and hood covering his face. However it was the weapon in his hand that terrified Albus. A shining silver scythe with a ruby red stone embedded in the hilt.
Severus dived out of the way and towards Hermione while Tom narrowed his eyes at the new person in front of him. He shot out the killing curse and you could have heard a pin drop when the boy cut the curse in two using the scythe.
He didn’t say a word to anyone as they all stared at him. The boy sped towards the Dark Lord swinging the scythe while dodging curses. He was also wandlessly and wordlessly casting shield charms.
Albus paled as his shields flashed blue as several curses and hexes seemed to be absorbed into the shields. The shields were also not placed in front of him. He seemed to maintain several different shields in strategic places around his body.
The Dark Lord was utterly unprepared for such an attack and retreated. Once there was some distance he tried to create some chaos by casting several blasting charms at the floor and the shops nearby. Everyone was showered with the debris causing more panic as buildings started to fall.
The boy seemed to make the scythe disappear into thin air as he pulled out his wand and uttered a spell that no one could hear. The black fog thickened into smoke until it had covered the Alley. There was a strange gust of wind as the smoke seemed to be pulled back into the earth and everything was quiet.
Once the dust cleared, both the boy and the Dark Lord and his death eaters had disappeared. Albus immediately started to search for Hermione Peverell, but both the girl and Severus were gone. He couldn’t be sure, after all no one had seen his face, and he had barely spoken and had hardly used his wand, however Albus assumed that the boy who was able to go toe to toe with Tom was Hadrian Peverell.
He was the Hufflepuff Peverell brother that never stood out amongst the crowd. He was sure that the girl had cried out for her brother. He was also sure that her magic had sent out a flare basically screaming at her kin that she was in danger and was calling for them to help her.
The boy had only appeared because it was his sister who called for him. He only did what he did because Hermione had called for him to save Severus. If she hadn’t the boy would have been slaughtered by Tom. There was no doubt in his mind that Severus would have died to protect her.
The more he found out about the siblings the more things didn’t make any sense. Now he was left with more questions than he was truly comfortable having because if the boy was this powerful now, then what would he become when he came of age?
What would happen if he chose to follow Riddle? What were the chances that the boy would follow him? Why did they even fight against Riddle? Could they be swayed to another path?
Dumbledore couldn’t trust the Peverell siblings nor could he be absolutely sure that the boy who wielded that scythe was actually Hadrian. However there was something about that scythe, something that he was overlooking and he wondered how important that piece would be in the future.

Chapter Text

Hadrian stormed into Draco’s study, throwing his cloak onto the desk and sighing deeply. Hermione and Severus trailed behind him looking pale and worried. Severus supported Hermione since her ankle was broken and was leaning heavily on Severus to walk.
Severus had no idea what to say or even what to think. These people were supposed to be his friends but looking at what was going on right now he realized he had no idea what he had gotten himself into when he accepted Hermione’s offer of friendship.
Hadrian Peverell always seemed so naïve and happy-go-lucky. He was also a bit absent minded. He was nothing like his Slytherin sibling who was cunning and cruel at times. He was nothing like the lion of the family who was bold, straight forward and utterly fearless when facing his enemies.
Hadrian didn’t speak his mind nor was he anything like Hermione with her work ethic and endless thirst for knowledge. However, seeing what he was capable of, Severus admitted that not only had he underestimated the boy but he had also grossly miscalculated the dynamics of the group.
He always supposed that it was probably Neville or Draco who was their leader and that their other siblings merely supported their more ambitious siblings. However now that he had seen this display of power he realized exactly how much they had fooled the entire school.
Hadrian Peverell was their leader and they were protecting him but the question still remained, what was he being protected from?
***
Neville was already waiting for his siblings and was slightly surprised to see Severus all but carry Hermione into the room. He sighed deeply and asked, “What the fuck happened now?”
No one answered him. Severus didn’t even know what to say, where to start or if he should just start laughing hysterically. Hadrian chose to drop into one of the available seats and face palm. His mind was still trying to figure out how this was going to impact their plans.
However the only image that his brain was currently able to bring up was the image of a room on fire. There was a little cartoon version of himself running around the burning room with his hair on fire. The child version of himself was trying to put out the fires not realizing that he was on fire as well.
He also took a second to muse that maybe Hermione had been correct about the whole mental breakdown thing. If this was all he could come up with then maybe he really did need a mind healer.
Draco took a better look at the three of them and paled slightly when he noticed the shiny silver handle of a scythe in Hadrian’s hand and he groaned, “Why the hell is that thing out? What the hell happened to just running some errands? Did someone summon a demon and you had to bring out that thing?”
Severus and Hermione settled onto the window seat and Hermione sighed and replied, “He dueled Tom.”
Hadrian groaned, “It wasn’t actually a duel. I didn’t want to give away my magic abilities so I tried getting him with the scythe. I just shielded some of his curses and used the scythe a lot. No one saw my face though.”
Hermione just buried her head into the pillow, “I shouted for you and Dumbledore was there. He has to be even more suspicious now.”
Neville and Draco just stared at their siblings in shock. Neither of them were really able to understand how they went from running a few errands and getting ice cream to dueling the Dark Lord. Was it really a duel if you tried to cut off someone's head with a scythe that pretty much scared the crap out of everyone who saw the bloody thing?
Sometimes they wished that their brother wasn’t able to break the laws of magic like it was as simple as breathing. Draco would settle on never managing to get his hands on that thrice damned scythe. The power it held was pretty terrifying but it did make an excellent horcrux destroyer.
Hadrian simply sighed and handed over the memory. It was just so much easier for them to just see what the hell happened. Besides, doing this also allowed them to observe the background people and try and figure out if there was anything else that they might have missed in the confusion.
While Neville and Draco were in the pensive Hadrian turned to Hermione and Severus and said, “You two go get Mione’s ankle fixed up while I deal with this mess.”
Hermione also took that as a code to figure out what the hell she was going to say to Severus. Severus fixed up her ankle in silence. Hermione was busy biting on her lip in nervousness until she couldn’t take the silence anymore, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Severus merely shrugged, “This is your family Hermione. I don’t think I had the right to pry.” “Don’t do that, Severus. Don’t you dare try and make it seem like I don’t care about you. Yes, I will admit that we weren’t very honest with you, but we never lied. I meant everything I have ever told you. I never lied to you.”
Severus seemed a bit shocked at her defensive tone. Then again he really didn’t think it was his place to demand answers. Whatever was happening seemed like it was more of a family matter, and even though he was curious, he had a feeling that whatever they were in the middle of was something dangerous.
He wondered exactly how far into the fire he was going to venture for her. “I know you care, Hermione but is it really my place to know these things?” he asked her. Hermione was shocked into silence. She knew that the old Severus would have collected every piece of information that he could about the war but that was because he was a spy. He had survived for as long as he had by collecting every bit of information that he could gain and using it to his advantage.
The Severus in front of her wasn’t the same man. This was a nearly sixteen year old boy. He was a person she cared for very deeply, however he was also someone who had not yet chosen a place in this war. He was no longer planning on joining the Dark Lord but that also didn’t mean that he would suddenly join their side of the war.
It would mean that he would have to risk his life. She had to wonder why he would want to do it, especially when he actually had a bright future to look forward to? Severus had a job and was already working on his Mastery, why would he want to throw it all away?
Hermione for the first time had to consider the fact that maybe telling him wouldn’t be fair because then he would be involved in the war even if it was just by being her friend. She couldn’t just take that choice from him. She couldn’t just explain everything just because she wanted him to understand. Severus had to want to understand even the parts about her that weren’t the best and only then would they really be able to be together. “My brothers and I are planning things, Severus and if I tell you, then I could put you in a position that you don’t want to be in, so I won’t say anything until you ask me to explain.”
Severus looked like he was going to interrupt her and she stopped him, “You need to understand though, if you want to be brought into our plans then you cannot back out. The information you will get will be valuable and it has to do with the war. What you do next is your choice. All we ask is that you don’t tell anyone anything that you have seen today, not even Lily.”
Hermione left him there with a ton of questions and wondering if the burden of the answers would be worth it or not. He also felt like his answer here would also determine the type of future he would have with her. He needed to figure out for himself whether or not she was a girl worth dying for. If they were getting involved in this war then there was a pretty good chance that one of them could end up dead. She left him sitting there, biting his lip and thinking about the future and what he wanted from his life.
***
Albus had called for a meeting of the Order. It had been a trying day and the death toll today was possibly the highest that they had in a long time. “Albus, why would he make such a risky move?” asked Minerva. The Headmaster simply shook his head at his deputy and replied, “I believe it was a response to everything that he lost in the past year. Many of his planned attacks and raids had failed mostly due to Hades intervening; however this time he did not come.”
There was some grumbling at his and he continued, “This attack wasn’t planned the same way the others were. Those were carried out in the night and most of the people targeted were political figures. They were standing in his way of politically controlling the ministry. I believe he wanted to announce himself to the public something that we have so far been able to prevent to avoid panic.”
Alastor couldn’t help but ask, “Albus, what about the boy?” Several people nodded their heads at the question, all of them wondering the same thing. Who was the boy that stood against the Dark Lord? Albus had no answer to give them and said, “I don’t know. Before the boy arrived Hermione Peverell called for her brother Hadrian, however we do not have proof that it was the same person.”
Molly Weasley couldn’t help but ask, “People said something about a weapon Albus. What weapon are they talking about?” Albus sighed deeply. He had hoped that no one would bring up that blasted thing. He hated when he had no answers to give especially when as their Leader he was supposed to know these things. “I have never seen a weapon like the one the boy held, nor have I ever come across it in any of my research. It is possible that it was something that he had crafted just for him, however I have never heard of any type of weapon capable of cutting through magic like the scythe cut through the killing curse.”
Mrs. Potter had a different type of question completely, “Why did Hades not inform us of another attack?” Minerva was the one who answered that question, “It is possible that he did not know. You must remember that even though Hades has brought us to places of attacks we still do not know why he is helping us nor do we know how he comes across the information. It is possible that this was something not very well planned out and he did not have enough time to tell us.”
***
While the Order picked at Dumbledore’s brains, Hermione was off with Severus. Hadrian, Draco, and Neville were left to dissect the memory of the attack. “What do you think is going to happen with Severus?” asked Neville. “Hermione has kept a big part of who she is from him. Being part of the war isn’t something she could have hidden from him if they started to date either. Severus will have to be able to forgive her for hiding things from him and he will have to figure out how far he is willing to go to be with her.” Said Neville.
“He cannot be neutral and still be with her. If he chooses Hermione then he chooses to fight in the war as well. It’s a big decision to make at sixteen especially since he actually had a future to look forward to now.” continued Draco. “Basically you’re saying that if he chooses Hermione we get another ally.” Said Hadrian.
Neville nodded his head, “Hadrian had a point. If he chooses Hermione then he will have some of our secrets.” Hadrian nodded his head, “No one will ever know about the alternate time line. That is a secret that goes to our graves. Death was very clear about not telling. I believe we wouldn’t be able to tell them about it even if we tried. If Severus does choose Hermione then it seems like we get another ally.”
“Is that even okay? We didn’t plan for anyone to know how deep we are involved in this yet.” Asked Draco.
Neville rolled his eyes, “Most of our carefully laid plans are dust and ashes. We are playing a lot of our cards by ear now. Too much happened too quickly, completely changing the game.”
Hadrian tapped his chin in thought, “Maybe we should start our horcrux hunt now. Things have changed too rapidly; it might come back and bite us in the arse if we keep stalling.”
Draco nodded his head and replied, “However we don’t know how Tom is going to react to someone other than Dumbledore being able to give him a run for his money. We might not be seeing him again for quite some time.”
Neville nodded agreeing with Draco and said, “Doesn’t matter. We cannot take the chance that he will be spooked and change the location of his horcruxes. We can collect them and keep them in the manor. When he shows up, we destroy the horcruxes, and Hadrian kills him. Then the war comes to an end.”
Both brothers snorted at how easy it was for Neville to say Hadrian would be able to kill him and Hadrian replied, “He is stronger this time. When we fought before his magic was suffocating, dark and inky however it lacked strength. It was like his magic was a watered down version of what he was once able to access. This time his magic is strong. He is still vile but his body and mind is still strong. The horcruxes haven’t completely damaged him yet.”
Draco nodded, “Then it was probably his resurrection that made him weaker. His connection to his core and mind is stronger now because he is still in his own body. Can you still defeat him?”
Hadrian rolled his eyes, “I am still his equal. We just need to be more careful when dealing with him. He isn’t as unhinged as he was when we dealt with him. His mind is also sharp. He will probably be looking into the weapon that I used to try and take his head off. He won’t be caught unaware by me again.”
Neville and Draco nodded, “We’ll both try and see what we can learn about his next moves, meanwhile you and Hermione figure out which horcrux you are going after first. Oh, and Hadrian there is a letter for you, it's from Sirius.” Hadrian rolled his eyes and left the room muttering about stupid dogs and not letting things go and a whole bunch of other nonsense in parsaltongue.
***
Hadrian collapsed into his bed holding the letter and glaring at it. After telling Sirius about Ron, Hadrian had avoided him. He didn’t like it when people were able to worm their way into his life and the truth was that Sirius was always a bit of a weak point for him.
The person he remembered was his Godfather. He was the first person who ever wanted him. Who wanted to give him a family and the first person who had died for him. His mothers sacrifice may have protected him, and he knew that she had died for him, but all his life the only thing that he had ever missed about his parents was the idea of them.
He couldn’t remember them. The only memory he had of them were their deaths, but Sirius was different. He had known Sirius. He had cried and laughed with him. He had cared for him and even saved his life. It had been his actions that had put Sirius in the situation which had gotten him killed.
Sirius had still come to his defense. He had come running to save him, and as he passed through the veil he had a smile on his face. He was at peace with the fact that he was going to die because he was dying to protect his Godson. To him there was no better way to go, but the person here was nothing like the man he remembered.
Sirius Black was full of life and laughter. He wasn’t haunted by nightmares and he definitely wasn’t broken. His eyes glowed with passion, love and happiness. His body was bloody sinful and he knew it.
Sirius was confident in his own skin and he wielded that confidence like a knife. He was funny and loyal but he was also stubborn. Hadrian had refused him many times and he was slowly running out of excuses to avoid the boy.
He wondered sometimes what it would be like to be the most important person to Sirius Black. Then he quickly shook those thoughts out of his head and stopped playing with the letter.
Hadrian took a deep breath and dropped the letter into the bin unopened. His heart dropped as the letter dropped but he still refused to pick the damned thing up. If anything this was all the proof he needed. Sirius Black was bad for him.
Harry Potter had loved the man as the father he never had, but Hadrian Peverell wanted to consume him. He wanted Sirius Black to love him and only him. He wanted to possess every inch of him. He wanted to do some unspeakable things to his body but most of all Hadrian wanted his heart.
That was not something that he would be capable of giving to him, not now maybe even not ever. Sirius Black was a playboy. He made it his mission in life to seduce every person he could and when he was done with his fun he left a trail of broken hearts.
All Hadrian would be to him was another notch on the post. He didn’t have the time to play the heart broken teenager. He had a war to win. A war that would not be won by him acting like a love sick fool besides he had already gotten one version of Sirius killed. He wasn’t prepared to put him in any more danger. Sometimes he wondered how it was possible for him to be owned so completely by one person.
Hadrian steeled himself against opening the letter when he heard a knock on the door and Hermione walked inside, “Neville said something about a letter.” Hadrian rolled his eyes at his sister, “Shouldn’t you be with Severus?” Hermione shrugged, “He is taking some time to decide what he wants to do. That wasn’t what we’re talking about.”
“Sirius sent a letter. I put it in the bin. I don’t have the time to be his play toy.” Replied Hadrian as he spoke he could already feel his sister frowning at him without even turning to face her. “He might be serious about his feelings for you. The least you could do is read the letter.” Hadrian shook his head, “All he is doing is enjoying the thrill of the chase. I don’t have the time to try and figure out what was going on in his head.”
Hermione sighed, “Don’t isolate him completely Hadrian. Sirius and James were eventually recruited to the Order of Phoenix. We might not know if he will still be recruited but we might need extra eyes on Dumbledore.”
Hadrian huffed, “We aren’t exactly best friends Hermione. I don’t think we could convince him to spy on Dumbledore for us at least not without giving away a few secrets.” Hermione just raised an eyebrow, “Sirius Black maybe a lot of things but one thing you cannot forget is that he is powerful. Powerful wizards will be needed eventually, don't forget that just because you’re too busy running from your feelings.”
Hadrian heard her close the door without waiting for an answer. He stared at the letter in the bin again and he could feel the bloody thing mocking him. He burned the damned letter to ash in frustration and watched as the flames consumed the parchment it was written on.
He may have been running away from his feelings but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Sirius felt anything towards him that didn’t deal with lust. He would not play the role of the naïve Hufflepuff who fell in love with the Sex God of Gryffindor.
Sirius would fall in lust with every good looking person that walked past him. Oh no, he had played the fool before and he was determined to never play that role again. Not in the war and not in whatever game Black wanted to play, he would never play the bloody fool again.

Chapter Text

Neville was exhausted and he had been ever since that disastrous incident back in Diagon Alley. He had been running on fumes and he still had to deal with Marcus Prewitt. That was a whole different migraine entirely due to the fact that it was politics.
They were currently reworking the werewolf laws to ensure that when Tom decided to turn his attention to them, that they wouldn’t have a reason to fight for him. They had done a little work in the beginning, but now they actually had the backing to do more and press their laws forward.
They had to start small and work their way back from the very beginning of the stupid laws that were being passed in the 1700’s that had initially restricted their rights. They were also reworking Severus and Hermione’s new wolfsbane potion to show the more humane side of werewolves.
All of this was done while trying not to upset too many bigots that would probably impose harsher laws just to spite them if they moved too quickly or pissed off the wrong person. The Lord Black was actually a really surprising yet not unwelcome ally. His name alone made several people like Lord Avery think twice about trying to sabotage them.
Hadrian had tried to keep a low profile and of course he somehow managed to do the complete opposite of that amongst his fellow ‘puffs. He managed to somehow befriend Dorcas Meadows and she was the younger sister of David Meadows, the next Lord of the family.
They were usually a grey family, which had been wiped out during the war before they had a chance to do anything. Neville hoped that he had bought them the time to make a difference. David knew that Neville and Hadrian were brothers as such he convinced his grandfather to listen to their proposals which led to yet another political ally.
Hadrian said that they were just friends and he didn’t think he made such a big impact on the girl. Neville didn’t know if he should be thanking him or strangling him because no matter how much time passed there was one thing that never changed, the fact that Hadrian inspired people. He didn’t force them to his side, or to believe in him. They rallied to his cause and followed because they wanted to because they were inspired by him. He already had half of Hufflepuff singing his praises and probably willing to fight to defend him.
Hadrian inspired people to rise up and fight. This time even while supposedly lying low he still wasn’t able to keep himself from rallying people to their side. Hogwarts was the same, the classes, routines, avoiding Dumbledore like the plague, and hiding the fact that Hadrian was probably the only person around that could go toe to toe with Tom.
Now they had the extra-don’t let people find out that it was Hadrian who had the battle against him-to worry about. The rumors and the gossip were just tiring. He had taken to sitting with Remus when things were getting to be just too much. There were not a lot of people who had the courage to get in between Moony and a book. Sitting next to Remus saved him from the marauders which was just a bonus.
Sirius on the other hand was seen to be alternating between fury and lust whenever Hadrian was around. The bloody arse still refused to even give the poor bloke the time of day. Neville seriously wondered why Hadrian couldn't just talk to him. If they talked then Sirius wouldn’t be so obviously mooning over him. It was really killing his reputation and Neville had the feeling that Hadrian took great pleasure in knowing that his reputation was crumbling. His brother could be a sadistic bastard when he wanted to be.
Hadrian knew exactly what he was doing and he was seeing how far Sirius was willing to let this go. It would be amusing if it wasn’t just so sad. Sirius looked like a kicked puppy every time Hadrian walked past him. They were only in school for a month and honestly Neville was surprised that they had managed to keep their shit together for this long. He had paperwork on top of his paperwork and he knew that things were still weird between Severus and Hermione.
They still worked together but there was this tension in the room whenever they walked in. No one really wanted to get in the middle of whatever was going on there. Honestly he was pretty sure that Hermione could handle her own love problems especially since they didn’t have the energy to deal with their teenage drama.
As it was he wasn’t getting enough sleep to even try and work out what he was feeling most days. He was operating on automatic at all times. Peter had noticed his friends' stress levels basically doubling even though they were done with OWLS and tried to help whenever he could. He brought Neville coffee whenever he could, reminded him of homework, and reminded him to eat because he forgot that he needed to eat to survive.
Remus tried to decipher the notes that Peter had written while Peter mothered him. They were still working on the Divination book. While Peter knew what he was doing in his head trying to explain it gave Remus a headache. Remus tried to decipher the points that Peter explained, but most of the time Peter had to sit with Remus and explain. It was a slow going process but they were almost halfway through. They both were extremely proud of what they were able to do so far.
Peter had even figured out how to open his inner eye and do something that Neville didn’t even know how to explain. Peter said something about some sort of spirit journey. Neville was pretty sure that he fell asleep while Peter was talking, but he did get the jist of it. He told him that he was proud of him and that he was doing a good job and then he passed out again. Peter didn’t even hold it against him.
***
Neville was hunched over his books in the common room when shit hit the fan. He had barely seen his siblings since the start of the term except for their classes, they were all lying low. One of the ways that it helped to do so was not to spend too much time around each other.
Draco said something about the snake pit wanting to test his strength. Hermione was suspicious of some Ravenclaws in her house. She was busy trying to get some information on them.
Hadrian was lying low and ensuring that he was completely and utterly normal. He didn’t even avoid Dumbledore and it would be too obvious if they all made themselves scarce. Draco was a Slytherin and all snakes avoided the Headmaster. When you added in the fact that Draco was the new King of the Snakes it made sense that the Headmaster wouldn’t be interested in him. Besides with the amount of suspicion that the old man had towards the snakes he wouldn’t try and get close to Draco to figure out their secrets.
Hermione was different. She was always busy, surrounded by people for study groups or Severus. Albus was on thin ice when it came to Snape so he tried not to upset Hermione too much. He had done Severus Snape wrong and he knew it.
He also knew that the girl that guarded him now, would probably tear his throat out in the middle of the Great Hall if he so much as looked at them the wrong way. Hermione wouldn’t trust him because of Snape, and Albus knew better than to underestimate a witch’s love.
Neville was a Gryffindor which would usually make him the easiest target for information but he basically went ghost. He was too busy and Dumbledore knew that Neville was the one helping Marcus on the political front.
That meant that Neville was too busy for him to try and warm up to him. Neville was already barely keeping up with homework and politics and everyone knew he was constantly tired.
That meant that the only one left was Hadrian, which forced Dumbledore to tread carefully. All his suspicions were towards Hadrian, and while trying to get information from him he couldn’t let him know of his suspicions either. It was a very slippery slope, one that he was trying not to fall off.
Neville was almost done with his homework. He hoped that he would finally be able to actually make it to dinner on time for the first time since they returned to Hogwarts. At least that was his plan, you know before James threw open the portrait and burst into the room and shouted for Neville. “Hadrian, Neville, you have to stop him. He’ll kill them.”
He panted out since he had run from only Merlin knows where and Lily frowned. “James, what are you talking about?” asked Neville, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hair. “Avery and his buddies, they did something to Draco, and Hadrian lost it. They’re in the Great Hall but the professors can’t reach them. We think he did some sort of protective magic.”
Neville paled. He knew that Draco had been having issues, but what in the name of Circe had they done that made Hadrian lose his shit, and where in Merlin's name was Hermione? He ran, pushed past James with Remus, Peter and Lily on his heels. James had to stop to fill in Sirius who had no idea what happened. At the back of his mind he knew that Sirius would be following as soon as he realized what was happening.
Neville burst into the Great Hall and fought off the urge to put his head in his hands and actually cry in frustration. Hadrian looked wild with his hair all ruffled. He was barefoot and wearing his school pants even though he was missing his shirt. Fucking hell, Hadrian had the most fucking scars. They already had enough suspicion on them, no one needed to see the amount of scars that he had. It all spoke of a fighter, everything that he was not supposed to be.
His teeth were bared like a wild animal as he snarled at everything and everyone in the room. He had Avery’s buddies pinned to the wall and Neville tried really hard not to scream.
Everyone could see that he didn’t have his wand. That meant he was wandlessly pinning three teenage boys to the wall and holding them there indefinitely. Although Neville was pretty sure that pinning Avery to the Slytherin table with a knife at his neck and murder in his eyes was the reason that absolutely no one was getting close to him.
No one could bloody hear a thing that was happening in their bubble and none of the professors knew how to get the shield down. It was a visible white bubble that looked almost delicate except for the fact that spells had bounced off it.
Neville turned to Severus, “What the fuck Snape?” Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Neville was actually the brother that swore the most when stressed and the others actually found it amusing. “Avery challenged Draco for King, but then we found out that they must have poisoned him before the duel and he went down hard. I took him to the infirmary and sent Hermione to him. She mirror called Hadrian, waking him from his nap and then he burst in here. He was dressed like that, waved his hand and this happened. The professors don’t want to hit it with too much magic in case it hurts one of them since no one knows what he did.”
Neville groaned and put his anger on the backburner. He needed to make sure that Hadrian didn’t actually kill Avery in front of so many bloody witnesses. He walked up to one of the tables, grabbed a knife, ignored the Professors trying to get him to move away and cut his hand.
He smeared his bloody hand against the shield. The blood flared blue against the shield and it fell. It took a moment for everyone to realize that they could hear them. “What the fucking hell did you give my brother Avery?” he all but roared and Neville was pretty sure that Avery pissed himself. Neville fought the urge to laugh at his cowardice.
One of his friends muttered something and Hadrian glared at them, “You say one more word and I will peel the flesh from your bones.” Neville paled at the seriousness in his voice. He couldn’t be enjoying this as much as he was. He had to stop this even though he really had missed his brother being in the role where he belonged. He was being their General, but this was not the time for this to be happening. “Hadrian stop.”
Hadrian’s eyes flashed and Neville fought the urge to whimper. He hated when he did that but he had to stand firm. Neville put a firm hand on his shoulder, “You can’t do this, not now, not here.”
The smile that Hadrian gave him was a little too sharp and a little too dangerous, “Can I kill him?” Neville sighed, “Not in public. Come on, you should take me to Draco.” Hadrian nodded and walked away but before they left he turned to them all, “If my brother dies Avery, you die.”
Dumbledore came forward, “My boy, you cannot-“ Hadrian threw the knife and it embedded in the wall next to the man’s head, “Do not get involved in the business between Ancient and Noble Houses old man.”
His gaze hardened, “This is a school-” Hadrian with his eyes flashing, “And we are at war. This was an attempt to sway the balance and I will rip out his heart as penance when this is over.”
Neville was pretty sure he was having a mental breakdown. Why else would he be fighting the urge to laugh at this moment? Hadrian had fucked up everything. They were all now firmly in the sunlight. Hell he might as well cover them in glitter, and hit them with a lumos on top of the astronomy tower with the way they were shining in the spotlight.
***
Draco was fine. Hermione had already fed him some of Hades tears just in case. She was going to sit with him for the night. Hadrian disappeared and Neville wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know what the bloody hell he was planning now.
Remus was taking a walk trying to get away from all the gossiping. Sirius and his reactions were something else entirely. To say that he was impressed and wanted the ‘poor puff’ even more was an understatement. Even though Remus wasn’t sure whether they could actually call Hadrian the ‘poor puff’ anymore.
Everyone wanted some answers but no one actually had any. That didn’t stop Hogwarts rumor mill. Remus found Neville by accident while he was walking, seemingly lost in thought. Neville looked finished, drained, like he was empty, almost as if he had nothing left. “Is he going to be okay?” Neville smiled at him and for a moment he was shocked at the amount of pure warmth that he saw in Neville’s eyes. He was always so tired, so stressed, seemingly hunched in on himself trying to keep people from realizing the burden he was carrying on his shoulders.
He wondered how heavy that burden felt but in that moment Neville seemed like just another almost sixteen year old teen that was just tired. “Draco? He’s going to be fine. Hadrian, Not so much. He isn’t what people think he is. People think they know him but they don’t. Truth is sometimes we don’t know how much he could be capable off because when you push him it's like kicking a nesting mother dragon. He will retaliate and when he’s done there will be nothing left but blood and ashes.”
Neville wanted to kick himself but at the same time he was just so tired. This was Remus. He knew that he could trust Remus and he needed to talk. For so long, he carried the burdens that were supposed to be Hadrian’s. He supposed he did well enough but now when everything that they so carefully planned fell apart he realized how much he wasn’t Hadrian.
He had no idea what to do next. He couldn’t even tell what his crazy brother was planning but he also knew that he would follow him. He would go to the deepest parts of hell, move mountains and fight a war on a single word from Hadrian.
Even if he didn’t know the full reason he was doing something he would still do it. He would slaughter for him, after all they had done so. Hadrian pointed to Tom’s army and they raised their wands with the intention to kill.
Neville never regretted it, because above all they trusted him. He didn’t do anything without a plan, not anymore, so he did have a plan. Neville just didn’t know what that plan was yet. “Hadrian was supposed to the tamest of you guys?” asked Remus and Neville laughed, an honest to God laugh filled with pure amusement. “No, you guys just assumed that he was the tame one. Truthfully, he is the most dangerous of us all. After all it was Hadrian who taught Draco how to be cunning. He taught Hermione to use her imagination, to think outside what the books said, that nothing was impossible when it came to magic, it was just undiscovered and he taught me to be brave.”
Remus was stunned. He had seen the three siblings shine in their strengths and to know that they had learned to be these people from the shy, sweet Hufflepuff was unbelievable. Then he wondered if James had been right all along, they really had no idea who these people were. “Your secrets have secrets don’t they?” he asked and Neville smiled but it wasn’t a smile like his brothers that bordered on insane. It was coy and Remus felt his face flush and his heart skip a beat.
“Well now I suppose that you will have to stick around longer and find out for yourself. Think you’re up for it Wolfie.” Remus gulped, when had Neville gotten so close to him, “It's Moony.” He muttered. Neville laughed and shook his head, “Wolfie fits too and it can be our secret.”
Remus all but fled but not in fear, it was more like ‘I’m in over my head, and can’t think straight because my entire face to the tips of my ears is burning red’ and Neville chuckled. It had been a long time since he had so much fun. He thought of Remus and his chocolate coloured eyes and pretty blush. He had to fight the urge to pull down his collar and see just how far that blush spread.
It was fun teasing the boy. He supposed that if everyone in his family had decided to fuck their plan and go AWOL then there was no reason he couldn’t get a taste of something that he been dreaming off since they landed in this time line.

Chapter Text

Pandora Moon had no idea what to think of the Peverell siblings and the drama that seemed to follow them. However Hermione was her friend. She was always kind to her and she never said nasty things about her behind her back.
Pandora knew she wasn’t a typical Ravenclaw. She knew that sometimes she got caught up in her own head and she could be a little bit dreamy and absent minded. She knew that her boyfriend and his fanciful ideas about the creatures that only he could see made people say even nastier things about them both behind her back. She wasn’t stupid. She knew how fake people could be.
However Hermione just smiled, nodded and listened to her ideas. She never once allowed a single insult to pass through her lips at anything either of them said. Instead she would smile and her eyes would shine as though she knew something that she didn’t.
For that kind of friendship, Pandora would always be grateful. She knew that she had a real friend in Hermione. She was someone who never betrayed her and for that she knew that if Hermione ever needed her or she needed help, Pandora would do anything for her.
Hermione had earned her loyalty so when her brothers went insane and the rest of the school gossiped, she decided to be a good friend. She simply packed a basket of food and took it to the hospital wing to ensure that her friend ate. Hermione always forgot to eat when she was stressed.
Pandora knew that there was more to the siblings that met the eye. She knew that they were hiding things, and she knew that Hermione knew that she knew more than she was telling.
The girl returned Pandora’s silence with even more loyalty. People said nasty things about her and Hermione saw how it hurt. The next day several girls grew feathers and clucked like chickens. The school laughed at them but she caught Hermione’s eye. Her friend smiled vindictively and she knew that the Peverell siblings were responsible for the prank.
Pandora met Peter because he hung around Remus and Neville. Hermione always ended up with him at some point in the day. Honestly she wasn’t sure how the siblings managed their days or what the hell they did most days. However they almost always had at least one of their siblings in their classes throughout the day.
They all had different schedules but at any point of the day you would see them with at least one of their siblings. Pandora and Peter were both sure that every day all four siblings met each other at some point even if it was just for a few minutes. Although they had no idea what they were up to.
Pandora was actually very happy that she met Peter. The two had a lot in common. Pandora actually had seer blood in her. Peter was already teaching her how to open her inner eye and peek into the future. It was slow going but he already taught her how to look into the past and present.
Remus thanked her quite often for giving them a new perspective on how opening an inner eye worked. Peter was the Master, and Pandora provided questions that one who would be following the instructions would ask. He went back to a lot of the chapters and added in the things that she experienced, and how one might struggle. They were also planning on writing another book for people with actual seer blood using Pandora’s experiences.
Professor Dumbledore heard of their book and actually took the time to read through what Remus had written. He even gave them a contact in the publishing world so that they could actually get the book published. For all the man’s mistakes, and Pandora knew he had his faults, he was a good man.
He tried to do the most he could for his students even though he didn’t always know how to help them. He had his own bias, and he didn’t think that anyone who wasn’t him could be trusted with power. He was paranoid and afraid of what he could not control.
The headmaster was a fool who believed that he could win a war by not killing anyone. He believed in second chances, while it was nice in theory it was too dangerous to allow criminals to go free.
The fact was that Dumbledore really did everything that he did because he believed that he was doing what was right. He was proud that some of his students had managed to rediscover a branch of magic. He hoped that one day Peter would want to teach Divination here at Hogwarts.
Peter on the other hand knew that Hadrian was not what he seemed. Everyone said that Neville was the strong and brave one and Peter knew that was true. He also knew that he would rather face Neville in a duel than Hadrian.
Neville was someone who you face out in the open. He would fight you with everything he had and he would never fire a curse at your back. Draco was someone who would probably slit your throat before you even knew he was there. Hermione well she would probably kill you with a spell that you never heard of but Hadrian would destroy you.
Peter knew it, he saw the way the other three siblings looked to Hadrian when they thought no one was watching. He saw the way he would nod his head, shake his head, or raise an eyebrow. He told each of his siblings to move to or to do something because he saw something that they didn’t. He saw the way Hadrian watched his siblings. It was a look so full of love that he knew Hadrian would kill to protect those that he loved. Peter knew that the only thing that matched his loyalty to his family, would be his wrath when someone crossed him.
That day in the Great Hall when Hadrian finally snapped, when he stopped acting like a shy ‘little puff’, when the snake in a badger's clothing finally bared his fangs he knew that he was right all along. “I will rip out his heart as penance when this is over.” Hadrian’s words echoed in his ears and Peter knew that Hadrian was not done. This was an attack on his family and the fact was, that Draco almost died. Avery was going to pay for it dearly.
Peter also had a horrible feeling that this wasn’t just about Avery and what he had done. He knew that Hadrian wasn’t someone that just let anger take over. It seemed to the rest of the school that Hadrian lost his shit because Draco was threatened, but Peter knew better. He saw the cold glint of steel in his eyes as he stared at Avery. He knew that Hadrian hadn’t lost his temper not once. He was in total and complete control with every move that he made and that just made Peter even more terrified because Hadrian Peverell knew exactly what he was doing.
Peter knew that he wasn’t the smartest or the bravest amongst his friends. He knew that the only reason why the Slytherins had been leaving him alone recently was because Remus was constantly with him. They were working on their book, so they couldn’t bully him when James and Sirius weren’t around.
They had whispered about the Dark Lord, trying to convince him that he would be killed, but Peter wouldn’t just give in so easily. He knew that he had a talent and that he was good at something. It was something that made his friends proud as well. It didn’t matter what anyone said about the Dark Lord because Peter was way more terrified of Hadrian and what he would do to him if he betrayed his family. If he turned on his friends then he would be betraying Neville, and Hadrian would destroy him without a second thought if he put his brother in danger.
If the Dark Lord wanted to kill him then that was fine and good. He would probably see a flash of green light and everything would be over. His friends would rain hate on the Death Eaters for his death and he would go down in the books as a brave Gryffindor who stood against the Dark Lord.
Hadrian would probably peel the flesh from his bones, rip out his heart and proceed to feed it to him if he betrayed his brother. Peter was pretty alright dying as a casualty in war but he would not cross Hadrian Peverell.
Nope, he would rather face the Dark Lord than deal with him, and he was pretty sure he made the right decision. Then there was the little fact that if he didn’t betray Hadrian, he could hide behind him and his siblings.
Neville wouldn’t mind letting him stay in the Peverell manor behind their wards where it was safe. Neville always believed that not everyone was meant to be a fighter, and he didn’t look down on anyone who didn’t want to fight on the front lines of the war.
***
Remus Lupin was currently hiding. Yes, he knew what he was doing. No, he was not ashamed to admit it. Even if Sirius laughed at him and James wailed in the background about Gryffindor courage. Those two clowns were muttering something about having a warrior's heart. Then there was Peter who said his furry little problem was supposed to make him fierce, not a kitten that hid under covers during a storm.
Remus gave absolutely no fucks about either of them when he flips them off. He huddles in his bed with chocolate, because chocolate understands, unlike his unhelpful so-called best friends.
After fleeing for the sake of sanity from Neville because there was no way in Merlin's name that he was actually flirting with him. Remus ended up telling his friends everything. All three of them either teased the hell out of him for running away or wondered exactly how much they were underestimating Hadrian Peverell.
In the end he had to beg them to just forget about the murderous Peverell for a moment and focus on the fact that Neville was flirting with him. James simply rolled his eyes and said, “Flirt back if you’re interested. Tell him to stop if you’re not. If you don’t know, hide until you figure it out so you don’t string him along because that’s just cruel.” Sirius was shocked that James actually gave someone helpful advice.
***
For the next two days no one could find Avery or Hadrian, Draco, and Hermione. Neville was seen running through the halls, talking to the headmaster, Professors, or going through what seemed to be a ton of paperwork.
No one knew what the hell was going on now and since the weekend was almost over several people were worried, as classes were the next day, everyone wanted to know what was going on with the Peverell siblings now?
They got their answer Sunday night at dinner. Honestly almost everyone was wondering what the hell was happening and how the Headmaster was going to handle the ‘attempted murder’ of the Avery Heir by a Son of House Peverell.
No one was ready for the blinders that they were all wearing to be torn off. So far the headmaster had done a really good job of keeping the ugliness of the war out of the school.
Even though Draco had given several Slytherins wake up calls to what it truly meant to serve the Dark Lord none of them had ever come very close to death. Death was still something abstract to them. They were all so young and with that youth came the arrogance of the belief that they were immortal. There was the attitude that nothing could hurt them and that they were making the right choices. It was impossible for them to be wrong.
War was something that no one could truly understand unless you lived it. It couldn’t be understood unless you stood on the battlefield and saw death and destruction. It was only when you saw everything that you had ever known burned down all around you would one realize how pointless waging a war really would be. That was the point that Hadrian Peverell was making- that war was pointless. All it was going to lead to was death and destruction. It was easy to run around Hogwarts and scream about blood purity. To say that those who didn’t have pure blood deserved to be treated like animals, like slaves.
It was something completely different to raise your wand and tear into a person's flesh and watch them bleed. It was something different to watch as your friends and family destroyed another human being and their will to live by violating them. It was something completely different to see your hands wet with the blood of the innocent and that was probably the crux of the matter. They were innocent muggles and muggleborns that had done nothing to deserve being treated like they were anything less than human. While it was easy to simply run around saying those things it was another thing completely to actually go through with the actions and hurt another human being.
In the end, war was pointless. It didn’t do anything but destroy, take and change people. It made the most desperate men do the very worst things they possibly could all because they wanted to survive.
There was no glory, no crown and no throne. There was nothing good that would come from the path that they were so excited to walk down. The Gryffindor’s believed that there was glory in fighting and dying for a cause. They thought they would be remembered as brave heroes and that would make their death somehow worth the cost. The Slytherins believed that blood purity actually mattered. That it made a difference and that it would save them from death somehow.
***
Hadrian Peverell was here to show them all that wearing those rose coloured glasses would only get them killed. He was showing them that there was no glory and no honor in war. There was nothing good that would come out of the war and they would no longer be able to hide from the truth.
Hermione burst through the doors of the Great Hall and made a bee line for Neville. Her brother was, for the first time since Hadrian attempted murder, in the room and had actually come down for dinner.
Both the siblings looked horrible. Hermione’s curly hair was hanging limply down her back in a mass of knots and tangles as if she didn’t bother brushing it. Her robes were winkled and creased like she had been sleeping in them. However the dark circles under her eyes showed that she wasn’t sleeping.
Neville looked about the same, only a little more tired and stressed. “Hadrian has challenged Evan Avery to a duel to the death for the attempted murder of Draco Peverell.”
Her words dropped like chips of steel throughout the Great Hall and almost all muggle raised students looked confused. It was Narcissa Black that spoke to clear up the confusion and explain how this was possible and legal. “According to our laws, if two people are from Ancient and Noble Houses they may settle matters in any way they see fit. As long as both persons are above the age of thirteen they may agree to anything to settle the dispute which includes dueling to the death.”
Regulus Black continued onwards for her, “It was done because of family squabbles where cousins would try and kill each other for titles or money or property or jealousy. No one wanted the Aurors involved in politics. The Ancient and Noble Houses were left to solve the problems by themselves so long as both parties agree it is legal.”
There was a lot of talk about how that was unfair but it was actually Sirius that explained, “We’re talking about the Ancient and Noble families, all who hold seats in our government. These families have alliances with other families through marriage or businesses.”
Everyone settled down to listen to him, “If the Lord believes one child is more worthy than the other then the eldest may be surpassed for the Lordship. Families backstabbing each other, bribing each other, or attempting murder couldn’t be aired out to the public, not without causing panic in the general public. They depended on the Ancient families to keep the government balanced.”
James Potter nodded his head, “It was up to the Lord of the House to keep order in his family, like if two Lords decided on punishments privately then there was no need to get anyone else involved. It still works that way now.” Sirius continued, “The moment Avery attacked Draco Peverell, the Noble House of Avery went to war with the Ancient and Most Noble house of Peverell. Hadrian said it himself Dumbledore had no right to interfere in the business of Ancient Houses.”
No one liked what they were hearing. Avery had returned earlier that day just an hour before dinner and now that Hermione had basically dropped the ball on them. They could all see the pale face of Evan Avery and the pure fear in his eyes.
He never thought that his father would agree to a duel. He had no idea what Hadrian did to get what he wanted but now that he did, he could basically kill him and it would be legal.
Remus turned and faced the door while Hermione and Neville chatted in low voices about what was about to happen. He could smell the blood lust, and he knew it belonged to Hadrian Peverell.
***
Hadrian walked into the Great Hall dressed in a three piece black suit. His long hair tied at the nap of his neck, his green eyes were glowing with power and his smile was more than a little dangerous.
It kind of reminded Remus of a werewolf’s smile because it was all teeth. There was magic swirling around him dangerously, and he rolled his shoulders, “I told you I was going to rip your heart out as penance, and I always keep my promises, Avery.” His voice carried throughout the hall. He glided through the hall to the Slytherin table, grabbed Avery by the neck and dragged him out of Hogwarts.
Several people including all the professors followed them almost unconsciously until they reached the forbidden forest. Hadrian seemed to walk straight ahead to a clearing in the forest where he dropped Avery and walked five paces away from him and waited for him to draw his wand.
Dumbledore threw up a shield between the two duelers and the audience that had gathered. While Avery senior seemed to have appeared out of nowhere but then again he probably knew this was happening and had already been here, prepared for the duel. There was even an Auror to officiate the match, even if it was a duel to the death with no rules. The fact that the Auror was here was probably to record who died and who lived and to ensure that no outside parties interfered.
Draco stood behind Hadrian as his brother's second while it seemed like Lord Avery would be acting as his son's second for the match. The moment the match began Evan started sending curses and hexes both legal and illegal.
He was just trying to put Hadrian down as hard and as fast as he could without dying, but Hadrian danced through the curses not once did he even counter with magic until Evan got tired. Hadrian sent a cutting curse to his knees. Several people winced and cried out in horror as Evan was forced to fight for his life while bleeding so badly and Hadrian merely raised an eyebrow. “Tell me Avery how your pure blood is going to save you. Show me how your blood gives you the power to survive. Show me how your pureblood makes you better than me.”
He taunted him and as he did so many people turned from curious to horrified as Evan just kept bleeding. Hadrian showed no mercy as he broke bones and blood poured out of his wounds and he still didn’t stop.
When he finally grew bored with Evan he spoke again, sending them all his last message, “Your pureblood didn’t save you. It didn’t stop me and it definitely didn’t change your fate. You are human Avery. You bleed red just like the rest of us and the so-called purity you held on to so tightly didn’t do a damn thing when faced with death.”
Hadrian waved his wand and Avery gave one last strangled cry as his heart was torn from his chest and landed on the floor in front of him. Avery hit his knees before falling down dead and Avery senior cried out for his son.
Hadrian merely pulled out the handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and wiped his hands clean. He looked out at his audience and raised an eyebrow at their horrified faces and he laughed while they could see Draco behind him rolling his eyes. “This is what it means to fight in a blood war, and at the end of the day your pure blood will not save you. After all, it spills just as easily as any other.”
There were several people who couldn’t even stomach the sight of the blood in front of them. Some people were throwing up, a couple witches had fainted but Hadrian just continued talking. “The only thing that this war will bring is pointless death and cruelty, and if you cannot stomach watching me kill someone then answer this, how will you fare after walking amongst the bodies of the dead? How will you be able to face a battlefield with hundreds of innocents?”
He was mocking them. The ones who were throwing up, who had screamed when he drew blood. He was taunting those who were pale and shaking in front of him. He smiled and several people flinched. It wasn’t a nice smile. It was cruel. “You are all so bloody naïve it is making me sick, now you know the truth, and you have only yourself to blame for the path that you walk.”
Lord Avery cried out and sent a curse at Hadrian’s back. Before anyone could cry out to warn him, he already deflected the curse and Draco had finished slitting his throat. The man fell and he was dead before he even hit the ground. Everyone heard Draco’s mutter of the word ‘coward’ as he followed his brother. Neville and Hermione fell in line as Hadrian passed them, and Peter couldn’t help but follow them, as Pandora moved to follow Hermione. James, Sirius and Remus all followed the siblings as well. Many were shocked when Regulus Black and Narcissa joined their group. When he saw his fiancée following them Lucius Malfoy quickly joined her and Hadrian.
The people who seemed to be supporting him stopped in front of the headmaster and they all heard what he told him. “This is what my war will look like, the bodies of my enemies lying dead on the ground. Not innocent people who try to defend and protect themselves. Those who come after my family will find themselves at the wrong end of my wand, and unlike you I do not offer forgiveness or mercy.”
Hadrian took in the pale face of the person he once called his mentor. He steeled his heart and decided that in this moment cruelty would be a mercy. “Those are tools that will get you and yours killed when your back is turned. If you keep pushing me Dumbledore then I will come after you next and trust me old man you do not want me as your enemy. After all, Arianna would be so disappointed in you.”
They all watched as Dumbledore looked at him horrified as he whispered, “What do you know?” Hadrian’s laugh was filled with mirth. It sounded so wrong after everything that he had just done. He simply smiled, not his dangerous border line insane smirk but an honest to God smile. The one he used when he played the naïve innocent ‘Puff’. He even gave the kitten eyes to the Headmaster and looked like the picture of innocence as he replied, “Everything Albus Dumbledore, I know everything.”

Chapter Text

Dumbledore was not a person who admitted his mistakes easily. In fact he was the type of person who insisted that he hadn’t screwed up as much as possible. It took a lot for him to realize that he messed up, and even when he miscalculated he always tried to find a way to use his mistakes to further his plans.
This time there was no covering up the fact that he had messed up. He pushed too hard, too far, and someone finally called his bluff. Now that it happened, he was left to try and make something out of the complete utter and complete destruction that Hadrian Peverell had caused.
The boy had taken a hammer to the chess board. He had not just moved pieces around or taken away a piece that he could replace. No, the boy had completely shattered the board and the pieces on both sides. Tom would be scrambling to make something out of this disaster as well.
Albus had underestimated the boy. He thought the true danger would come from his Slytherin brother but he was wrong. It was so glaringly obvious and now he actually didn’t know where to go from here.
Dumbledore had been watching the siblings carefully. He was so sure of the siblings' place on the board. How could they fit anywhere else? Neville was a good politician, probably one of the best there was, and working with a genius like Marcus. The two of them were dominating the political area. He knew that Tom was infuriated with the little progress being made in the Wizengamot.
The light faction were pulling many of the grey families to their side while also ensuring that everyone who did side with them disappeared from the public eye. They were making it nearly impossible for Riddle to kill his enemies.
The McKinnon’s, Prewitt’s, Potters, Meadows, Greengrass and Black families had put up their war wards. Several members of their branch of the families had either left the country or gone into hiding while their children were safe in Hogwarts.
Anyone who joined them in their political stance were being protected as much as humanly and magically possible. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why they hadn’t done it from the beginning, but then again Britain had never been in the middle of a war. They had never fought a war in their homeland. It just never occurred to them to take the threat seriously.
Albus knew that Marcus was constantly wearing a portkey as were several other members of their immediate family. They were taking absolutely no chances after nearly losing Marcus and the entire political fight. He knew that Neville, while powerful and dangerous, with the right type of pressure would bend to his plans. He had hoped to get the boy to join the Order once he graduated.
Hermione was a Ravenclaw. He wasn’t completely against that House but he knew that it was similar to the house of snakes. Ravenclaws were not as extreme in their views of blood but many who did not have the cunning to join the snakes ended up in Ravenclaw.
Hermione’s friendship with Severus Snape had been the final nail in that coffin. It had forever moved her from his reach. It was obvious that the two were infatuated with each other. Albus was not someone who underestimated what a woman in love would likely do when pushed.
Albus had never seen much value in the snake, however his dealing with the teen had cost him more than he expected. The fact that he had done nothing to help Snape had caused Lily Evans to doubt him, but Hermione never trusted him. She hated him from the moment she met Snape and he knew it. He also knew that nothing would be able to change her mind.
While he could not endear himself to Hermione, he was sure that if he could hold the trust of Hadrian, then his plans could still work. Once he had Hadrian, he could extend his control, over to Hermione and with her came Severus.
He would admit that he had overlooked the boy's potential. While working with Hermione he had proven that their magical advancements would make a powerful force. He just needed to ensure that they decided to fight for the light.
He had hoped that by using Hadrian he would be able to pull the pair into his sphere of influence even if they didn’t completely trust him. He knew that while the siblings loved each other, Hermione and Hadrian had a deeper and more special bond. He had assumed that she took care of Hadrian. She probably did as he asked because she didn’t want to hurt him and wanted to protect him. Now he realized that he had fallen for their trap.
It looked like the more powerful and assertive siblings were keeping their youngest member of their family as protected as possible, however that was part of their plans. They didn’t want anyone looking too closely at him, and he had fallen for their ruse.
Draco was someone that he hadn’t even tried to learn about or get control over. The House of Snakes were notorious in their need for privacy. No one ever knew what was going on in that house unless you were a snake. He had assumed that Neville was keeping an eye on his brother ever since he had become King of the Snakes.
He was so sure that it was because of Neville that Draco had his housemates leaving the country, rather than becoming death eaters. Draco was too far from his sphere of influence, however he assumed that Hadrian would just go along with whatever his siblings told him to do.
He had been suspicious when Hermione called out for Hadrian when that mysterious figure appeared with that scythe. He managed to convince himself that she was probably calling out for him because he was her youngest brother and she was worried about him.
He started watching them more closely once Neville started working with Marcus, and he realized that the siblings had set meetings throughout the day. Neville only met with Hadrian. He sometimes met with his sister but rarely did he see Draco. Neville was busy, but he always made sure to meet with Hadrian even if it meant not seeing his other two siblings.
Hadrian had become the common factor in all their meetings. Then he noticed that every time the siblings did something they looked to Hadrian for confirmation or maybe approval. He didn’t know why they were doing it but he was sure they were. Hermione would show him books. Draco passed him what appeared to be lists or notes. Neville showed him what he assumed were political documents of unpolished laws in debate, and while he could understand getting a second opinion about the politics, he didn’t understand what the siblings were up to when it came to those books and notes.
After saving Marcus, Draco and Hermione had made it very clear that they were willing to get involved in the war. So far, they had kept their heads down and only got involved in the politics so now the question was what Hadrian was up to?
He went over the attack on Diagon Alley a few more times until he was able to find the proof he needed. There was a person who saw black mist appear, and Hadrian disappear just as Hermione had shouted for her brother.
Dumbledore believed that he could force Hadrian into admitting the truth and then have him walk the path that he decided would be best to defeat Tom. He hadn’t expected a third party who would be able to beat him. He had not expected someone else who had the power to stand against Riddle but he allowed himself to believe that he could handle all this.
Now that there was someone who could battle Tom all he had to do was ensure that the Peverell siblings walk the path that he set out for them. However, he tried to control Hadrian and he lost control of everything.
It started out with a simple chat. It should have been nothing more than just a little conversation, but when backed into a corner Hadrian shed his mask. Albus felt like he aged ten years in that one moment, because what lay underneath was not what he expected.
He thought that this was a powerful youth, similar to himself. Just a boy who managed to learn some way to channel his power. He had hoped Hadrian wasn’t very bright, and would have been easily controlled. Especially without his siblings there to protect him. However, underneath the mask of the naïve Hufflepuff was a Snake, and not just any bloody snake but a basilisk.
There was nothing that he could do. Both Lord and Heir Avery were dead. He had tried the entire weekend to try and put a stop to the duel, or to at least make it illegal. He wanted to stop the boy from taking action in this manner. Albus wanted to stop the boy from killing someone, but the worst part was that it was legal. He couldn’t understand why no one understood why those laws needed changing. Killing people was not the way to live.
He tried to talk to Hadrian but Neville met him every time. The boy was unflinching in the face of everything that Dumbledore said, did, or even threatened. He believed that his brother was doing what was best. Even if he burnt down the entire world to accomplish his goal, he knew those siblings would stand by him. The worst part was that if he asked, they would fan the flames at a moment's notice.
The entire school saw not only his power but his brutality and the brutality of war. He had hoped to keep the ugliness of war out of Hogwarts for as long as humanly possible, and this one boy had brought it to their front steps in one weekend.
He still believed that the children shouldn’t be allowed to learn such nonsense. They shouldn’t have to see these horrible, ugly truths and that it wasn’t their place or their battle.
However Hadrian and his siblings proved that the youth were stronger than he believed, and that they were also capable of terrible things. His beliefs were being challenged and his faith was shaking. He no longer knew what to believe or to think.
However, it wasn’t just what Hadrian had done that shook him to his core, but what he had said after. The boy knew about Arianna, and he said that he knew everything. Now, he was left to wonder exactly what did that mean, how much did he know, and what was he going to do with that information?
His life and his mistakes with Gellert were made a long time ago. His relationship with the man had happened nearly a century ago, and to everyone else in the world they had only met during the war which was now nearly 50 years ago.
However, the boy hadn’t mentioned Gellert. He mentioned Arianna. That meant that he knew about the Dumbledore family. He knew more than he was telling, but the fact that even knew he had a sister was more than enough to send a cold shiver down his spine.
If he knew that she had lived then he probably knew how she died. He didn’t mention Gellert, that would have brought more attention than needed. The name was too famous, but the name Arianna was unknown. No one knew what he was referring to which was why he had done so.
Now the whole world would be busy wondering who this person was and why she mattered so much. There would be questions that he couldn’t answer. The things that he spent his entire lifetime hiding were being laid bare in front of the world because of a teenager.
It was pathetic and at the same time terrifying. If this was how he treated people who annoyed him then what was he going to do to someone who truly angered him? The image of him summoning the heart of Evan flashed through his mind. There was a small voice at the back of his mind saying, ‘he rips out their hearts, you dumbass.’
Dumbledore sighed and gazed at his chessboard which was meant to reflect the battle between light and dark. He was forced to admit that the entire thing was now useless. The boy had taken a hammer and destroyed the entire bloody thing. He was no longer sure of anyone or their placements on the board.
For the first time since he had been a love struck fool who allowed Gellert to lead him around by the nose, he had no idea what to do or where to go from here. His roots were shaken to their very core and for the first time in a very long time Albus Dumbledore knew fear.
He was afraid for the future, of the unknown and of the outcome of this war. The only question that he kept coming back to was whether or not Hadrian Peverell would save them or become their next nightmare.
***
Remus Lupin was sitting by the fire in the common room. There was silence throughout the house, no one had stuck around. Once Hadrian had delivered his message to the Headmaster, one that he filed away to think about later, because he had no idea what could possibly scare the greatest wizard of all time like that, the Peverell siblings disappeared.
Hadrian nodded his head towards the staircase. Hermione bid goodnight to Severus and led her siblings to where only Merlin knew. The group that had gathered around them, were smiled at gently by Draco, and he nodded them to go to their common rooms and followed his siblings.
They knew that what they did was appreciated but the siblings needed to talk without anyone around so they all just scattered. Eventually they all ended up in their dorms thinking about everything that had just happened.
It was an extremely somber affair. No one was ready to see that, but then again could one who never experienced war, death, and destruction ever truly be ready to face it? His words haunted them all.
All those things about bravery and how it was stupid, how there was no honor in war or in death about how this entire war was pointless. It didn’t change the fact that people would fight and die. People that they loved would change once they chose to fight.
Sirius and James used to joke about how they would be heroes and go out and save people. No one ever spoke of the cost of being a hero. No one talked about the loss, of the people that couldn’t be saved, and of the innocent people who would get caught in the crossfire.
It was an extremely hard pill to follow that everything wouldn’t be roses and sunshine forever. That with war came death and uncertainty. In those times people would change and become the people they said they would never be, or never expected to become. It was a scary thought for the future.
Remus was waiting. He wanted to go up to his dorm but he was too restless. He couldn’t ignore the fact that Neville wasn’t there. As much as his mind raced as overwhelmed as he felt, he needed to wait for Neville to come back.
He needed to know that Neville was alright. He needed to know that he would walk in and go to bed like he did every other day. Even though it wouldn’t grant him any answers, it would give him peace of mind. He would know for sure that Neville was safe in his bed.
Everything else, well they could figure it out later. Once the shock passed and they truly came to terms with what had happened, and how it had affected them all. Things were never going to be the same but for now he could do something. He could wait for Neville.
***
Sirius Black couldn’t help but be extremely satisfied with how that duel (cough) slaughter had turned out. It was bloody and terrifying, but the one thing that he knew hit a lot of the people in the school was when Hadrian announced to the world that Avery’s ‘pureblood won’t save you’, it changed everything.
That change had been hammered home when both Lord and Heir Avery were wiped from existence. Sirius also realized that as a Black, he had power and skills. If he wanted to stand beside someone like Hadrian Peverell equally, then he needed to earn a place by his side. He was going to be the next Lord Black. His grandfather was currently causing drama for every supporter of the Dark Lord, and systematically destroying them all.
It was time to take this seriously. It had all been so easy when he was running from his mother and her beliefs. It was easy when he and James were able to look at the world in black and white. Things were easy when he was able to say that all Slytherins were evil and all Gryffindor’s were good but that wasn’t how the world worked.
Hermione forced him to face the issues that he had been running from. He had been lying to everyone including himself about so many things he wasn’t sure where to even get started. Then his grandfather had come back home, killed his mother and taken control of the family.
He had once been so sure that Bellatrix would end up marked by the Dark Lord and insane. She was never the most stable of his cousins. She was always a little more violent and unhinged, even from a young age the Black madness ran strong in her.
He knew that if she was exposed to any more dark magic, if she were marked and probably punished using dark magic, then her fragile mind would shatter entirely. She would be a force of death and destruction.
Narcissa and Andy were different. It was definitely Andy that was the sanest, Narcissa was probably on the same level as him, but Bella was something else entirely. There were some people in his family who were known to enjoy the pain cast upon them and on others. Bella was someone who had the potential to break and become a monster of their own making. However, the only thing stronger than Bella’s Black madness was probably her beauty. When their grandfather arrived and her parents were banished, things had drastically changed. Her forced engagement to Lestrange had been destroyed and she married Malcolm McKinnon, a cousin of Marlene.
Malcolm wasn’t in line for the Lordship but he was a pureblood with little inbreeding in the family. He was of a strong mind and he was a grey wizard. He didn’t support Voldemort and as soon as they married they left the country. She still wrote to her sisters and grandfather, but they were never close, and probably never would be but Bella had been well and truly tamed.
Andy was going to marry her muggleborn boyfriend soon. They would keep the Black name and Narcissa was truly happy with Lucius, so that was enough for him. Regulus had not chosen a bride and probably wouldn’t, not until he graduated. Sirius on the other hand knew who he wanted and now after today he was forced to admit that it was time to grow up completely.
Hadrian and his family were going to bring forth change, and he needed a partner by his side. Hadrian wouldn’t settle for something that would waste his time and in the long run end up being pointless. Looking at his siblings it was obvious that Hermione had chosen Severus. He was sure that whatever problems they were having would eventually be sorted out. She was looking at marrying him and he knew, hell everyone but that idiot could see that.
Draco worshiped Lily even if they didn’t make it official, everyone could see that they were dating. They just didn’t realize it yet. Remus and Neville were doing that weird dance and then there was Hadrian. The guy who never gave him the time of day because he wasn’t ready. Hadrian had known that he was interested but it wasn’t enough. Sirius wasn’t ready for everything that Hadrian knew he wanted and, now he could only hope he wasn’t too late.
Nothing that Hadrian had done so far had scared him or would chase him away. He knew what this war meant. It was a little jarring, but he was quick to put that away. This was his wake up call to the real world. What was happening around them was way more serious than they realized.
Hadrian stood on the front line, ready for battle. Sirius knew the boy obviously cared and was interested in him, but didn’t take the chances he was offered. Hadrian wasn’t looking for a quick snog in a broom closet. He wanted something real, because he was living in a world where it was possible to lose everything and everyone he had ever loved at a moment's notice. He wanted a love of a lifetime, and with that came with commitment, promises and strings.
Even though Sirius wanted Hadrian, he had still been trying to avoid those things. But now he knew, he wanted all those things as well. Nothing was going to stop him from taking part in this war, but he also didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t want to die without saying that he had loved, really loved someone.
It was worth it, Hadrian was worth it. He wanted to fight this war and he wanted to do it with someone worth dying for by his side. He knew that person would be Hadrian Peverell. All he had to do now was make him realize it too.

Chapter Text

Severus was not surprised when Hadrian killed Avery. He knew that everyone was still reeling from everything that he had said and done but Severus knew what he was capable of doing. He might not have said it in detail, but he had known.
Severus grew up in poverty. He was surrounded by drunks, thieves and murderers. He knew people who lived their lives in the darkest shades of grey possible. He knew what they were capable of doing.
When Hermione had revealed that their family was going to make plans, and be getting involved in the war he knew that the siblings were capable of killing people. Hermione was capable of murder, he knew that. She wasn’t like Lily. A girl who lived her life strictly in the light and dark. Hermione lived in the shades of grey. When it came down to it, if the choice was between her life and the lives of the people she cared about, she would kill without a second thought.
Severus could also admit that if it wasn’t for the Peverell siblings he didn’t think he would be where he was in life currently. Lily was his only friend for a really long time, and the truth was, that since their fourth year they had been drifting apart. He had been falling in deeper with people who believed in blood purity. Lily was starting to really look at where she was headed and where he was going. It was in two very different directions.
The marauders and their pranks would have probably reached some sort of breaking point. He highly doubted that he would have managed to keep Lily’s friendship in the long run, not when he was walking down the path that once promised him power.
He didn’t really believe in blood purity. He was a half-blood and sometimes he was glad that he wasn’t an inbred idiot. However, nothing could change the fact that he wished he had been a pureblood.
He believed that if his mother honored her marriage contract instead of running away with a muggle then he probably wouldn’t have grown up in poverty. Severus thought that being a pureblood would have ensured that his mother hadn’t ended up living in squalor, that their lives would have been better.
Was he right? He didn’t know but he did know that money would have made his life easier. He probably wouldn’t have been some prince charming, but he had long ago stopped wondering.
He hated his father and most of the muggles he had grown up around. However, he could never hate all muggles. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had always been extremely kind to him even though they were wary of the part of town that he lived in.
His thoughts on blood purity aside, he could not deny that the promise of power had once enticed him. Then he met Hermione and got a solid kick in the ass. The occlumency shields that he managed to create had done wonders for his temper. It helped him think more clearly. He had been blinded by hatred and a need for vengeance for so long that he didn’t even realize who he was becoming.
Looking back at that hate filled, bitter person scared him more than anyone would ever know. It also helped to get his priorities straight. He realized how much of an ass he was being to Lily and what a hypocrite he was becoming, Lily deserved a better friend. One who didn’t say one thing to appease her and do something completely different behind her back.
His friendship with Lily aside, things in school got better. Draco took control of Slytherin, and with the crowning of the new king, came his new place as the right hand. Regulus Black took his place as the left hand. He was no longer the Slytherin outcast who had no allies or friends. Severus Snape no longer spent his time trying to keep his head above water by using the favors which he had managed to scrape together by the skin of his teeth. He was someone of importance because of his brain, not his birth.
Draco was his friend. The only reason why Severus had been chosen as his right hand was due to trust. Severus actually had a brain. Draco wasn’t looking for brainless bodyguards. He needed people who agreed with the way he intended to run the house and he needed to know who had his back.
Severus earned his place in Slytherin. It was no longer run according to the purity of blood and money. It ran on brains, intelligence, cunning and an actual drive to succeed. Those were the things that Severus had admired about the house of Slytherin. Things that the house had once stood for and not the crap that Tom Riddle had made it into during his reign of terror.
In one lifetime when Severus had become a death eater, Regulus would never have really crossed his mind. When they were in school Severus had kept far away from the younger Black. He did not want anything to do with someone who was related to Sirius Black. When they both joined the Dark Lord, they still didn’t have anything in common. When Regulus was declared dead, many believed that the Dark Lord killed him in a fit of anger. It was what Severus had believed as well, however thanks to Draco Peverell in this lifetime the two boys were now friends.
***
Regulus Black had a lot of pressure on him from his mother. She expected him to be the perfect little heir. He had gone to Slytherin even though he didn’t really belong there, not really. Severus noticed it after working together with him to help keep the snakes under control.
Regulus was a Ravenclaw at heart. He had a deep love of learning and research. It was what he spent most of his time doing. No one called him out on it as he was protected by Andromeda and Narcissa during his younger years. Once he was older Regulus was still untouchable simply because he was a Black.
Regulus didn’t have the ruthlessness that came from being a snake. He pretended quite well, however once his grandfather had taken control, and his mother died in that ‘accident’ Regulus had been happier and Sirius was more responsible.
***
Once all the snakes were in their common room Severus and Regulus locked down the dorm rooms. They could see how shaken their house mates were. Hadrian’s words were still echoing in their ears, ‘your pureblood won’t save you’.
It was something that they never believed to be possible. This war meant so much more than they all realized. They now had to live with knowing that being the heir to their House, was not going to save them from having to fight for their lives. They knew now that their actions had consequences.
If they crossed the Peverell family, they would pay in blood one way or another. It was something that they never truly thought of as they ran around the school screaming about blood purity and threatening each other with the power of their families.
There had never been consequences to their actions before. Hadrian Peverell had just used their laws to utterly destroy an entire line. Several people were thinking deeply about the consequences of a dead bloodline. They realized with the main branch of the family dead it was possible that the house would pass to a distant cousin.
Evan Avery had no siblings, but his father and the deceased Lord of the house had a sister who married a Flint. She did not marry into the main branch of the Flint family. She married the second brother.
That meant that if that couple had a child, it was possible that the house could pass to them. No one was even sure if the couple had a child or anything about them. It was a horrifying thought for many sole heirs to ancient families. They realized that this could eventually be their fate. If they carried on this path and maybe, just maybe, it would be their line that ended next.
They needed more children born than they needed purebloods. Draco Peverell had a point. His family was still extremely powerful even though they had a muggleborn mother. It was well known that muggleborns usually carried more children. Now that they had seen how easily the war ended the main branch of a family maybe it was better to marry someone who could bear them as many children as possible. The survival of their houses might just be more important than the purity of their blood. As long as they followed the old ways.
Hadrian had hit them all at the core of the problem. They were all human. They all bled red. In their so-called purity war they would die needlessly. It was a sobering thought. One that caused many, who were still leaning towards the Dark Lord, to take a good look at what a battlefield looked like, and realize that they would be slaughtered.
It just wasn’t worth it to join in. Not when their numbers were so low. Not when the cost was so much higher than the rewards that were once promised to them all. Regulus was good at his job as the peacemaker. While Severus brooded, lost in his thoughts he calmly reminded everyone of why Draco Peverell encouraged them to go neutral. He reminded them of all the consequences of the war.
Several people were already writing to their parents explaining that the only way they would fight for the Dark Lord was under the imperious curse. There was no way they were giving up their lives, lines or legacies just because they were too stubborn to compromise with the light and find a solution that honored both sides.
***
Severus on the other hand was thinking of his relationship with Hermione. She already explained that if he really wanted to know what was happening, then he would be granted access to sensitive information. But to get that information he was going to actively fight against the Dark Lord.
He was either part of the war or he wasn’t. If he knew these secrets, then he would be a target. His life would be in danger, he couldn’t be with her and not be part of the war. Things between them had been awkward ever since then because he hadn’t been able to come up with an answer.
Severus already realized that he was headed in the wrong direction. He knew his original path in life would most likely cost him everything. He managed to dig himself out of that deep hole that he was burying himself in and now he had a chance at a real future.
He could leave the country and leave the war behind him. But for a future like that he would have to give up being with Hermione. She wouldn’t leave this war behind her, not when her siblings were fighting. He did want to be with her, he loved her.
He had managed to come to that conclusion recently. In the weeks that they spent largely avoiding the elephant in the room while she gave him space and time to figure out what he wanted to do, he realized that he loved her. Hermione didn’t want to ask him to fight in the war. She wanted him to choose it. If he did then he knew that he would be choosing her as well.
While he was busy running these thoughts in circles in his head, they worked on their counter spells and rituals and potions together. Everyone realized that things were not great between them. In fact, several other teens asked him if they had broken up and if they finally had a chance with the Peverell heiress.
Severus resisted the urge to cackle when Draco would smile, a little too widely and sharply. That smile would send them running for the hills as he played the part of the dangerous Slytherin big brother.
Severus had not been surprised at the lengths at which the siblings were willing to go too. They all hated the Dark Lord, and they were determined to see him dead. What did hit him in the gut was the fact that Hermione had been worried, stressed and she was all alone. She hadn’t come to him because she didn’t want to burden him with their plans. By not coming to him, he knew she would suffer in silence, and she still did it. He couldn’t stand that. She had given him everything. His life, his self-confidence and his self- worth, she made him.
He promised that he would always be there for her. He couldn’t do that when she desperately needed him, because he was too cowardly to stand against the Dark Lord. The thought of actively fighting in the war terrified him. Especially now that he actually had something to lose, but that wouldn’t matter if he lost her anyway. He was finally able to make up his mind because he had something to protect.
She needed him, her brothers were fighting their own battles. She needed someone who was there solely for her. If that meant he had to sign up for war, then by Merlin he was going to do it. She was worth it. She was a woman worth fighting for and a woman worth dying for.
He finally managed to come to a conclusion in his own head. His eyes hardened in determination. His eyes went dark and hard. It was a look of the man who was once cunning enough and brave enough to lie to the Dark Lord’s face. A man whose spine was made of pure steel, who danced with death everyday and died with no one ever knowing his heart.
***
Lily Evans had just watched someone that she called her friend rip out the heart of someone who had bullied her ever since she started Hogwarts. Hadrian’s threat of ‘your pureblood won’t save you from me’ still echoed in her ears and all she wanted to do was hide in her covers.
She didn’t want it to be real. She didn’t want to believe that this was the consequence of their pointless hatred. She didn’t want to believe that this war would truly lead to something like this. The war was not something that they could hide from nor could they pretend like it didn’t exist anymore.
Hadrian had painted a gruesome picture. One that was probably going to haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. All she could picture was a graveyard filled with the students of Hogwarts and all of them were dying. Their blood splashed needlessly across the floors, mixing with her so-called dirty blood.
Her own thoughts filled her with disgust. ‘Was this what they were doomed to become? To try and solve all their problems with a war that was only going to get them all killed and where was she going to be standing when this all came to a head?’
She had managed to follow the Peverell siblings when they left the battlefield but that wasn’t enough for her. She didn’t want to stand at the sidelines and watch her friends fight for her and the people of her blood while she did nothing.
The Peverell siblings were always so amazing, so above and beyond everything that she had known. They were nothing like regular teenagers. She was honored to be friends with them, but that was no longer good enough.
She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t let them fight alone. She agreed with them, the war was pointless, cruel, and unnecessary. But if they wanted a war then she would fight. She wouldn’t allow anyone to harm her family.
Draco slit the throat of Lord Avery, and that was something that she could never forget. He had blood on his hands. The way he did it, without flinching, caused a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew that he had done this before. She needed to deal with her feelings towards it before seeing him again. She needed to make her peace with this new side of him.
He had made peace with who he was and what he was willing to do to keep his family safe. Draco was not someone like Severus who didn’t know who he was, or where he was going to end up. He wasn’t like James Potter who lived his life in the black and white of the world.
James and Lily lived in a world with the lines clearly drawn. To them the world was separated into good and bad people. James was at heart a simple person. He was loyal to his friends, cruel to his enemies and he saw the world in a very idealistic way. A person was either good or bad to him. James mostly based good and bad on the house one was sorted into at Hogwarts. Even though she found it hard to believe that person was good or evil based on their house, it would have made things so much easier if that were true.
She was never the type of person who tried to understand living in the shades of grey. But after meeting and befriending Hermione who had no time for Lily and her ‘small minded’ way of thinking, that changed.
Lily once asked her about the work she was doing with Severus. She had asked about the use of the magic they were researching and Hermione looked at her with disdain. Lily had felt naïve and stupid for even asking the question when she responded to her. “There is no such thing as light or dark magic. There is only magic and your intent. What you do with your magic determines what kind of magic it is.”
She didn’t have the time or patience for Lily, who had never heard of magic being explained in that way. Hermione had revealed the ugly parts of the world to her like tearing off a band aid, quick and painfully.
Lily also adopted the saying, ‘in the world there is no good and evil, only people who try to do their best in a world where it's far too easy to do their worst.’ She thought that while she hadn’t lived the same way as Severus she did come to understand him, at least a little bit. That was why she refused to allow Draco to put any more distance between them. She was no longer a naïve little girl.
She could accept that he lived his life in the grey. She knew that the time would come when she would probably have to do the same. She found that she was surprisingly alright with that decision.
She was growing up, and while a part of her wanted to run and hide, the woman she was becoming wanted to stand beside the person she loved, and wouldn’t let her hide. If she wanted to have peace and love, then she was going to have to fight for it. She would have to be merciless against those who would never show her mercy. She would wipe her tears, steel her spine and her stomach, and she would fight.
***
James Potter was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. Peter was sitting on the floor next to him. Peter didn’t say anything, only offering his silent support to his friend. Peter had been digging deep into his divination skills, and he seemed to have developed a low level of empathy. It was similar to those who were able to master legilimency, peering into the past and being able to sense a person.
If he had a sample of their magical energy, it made him hyper aware of his surroundings. Due to this ability, he was able to get a general idea of a person's feelings based on their magic. It was kind of weird at first, but he was also extremely proud of what he had managed to accomplish.
After the siblings left, he sensed that it was James who was struggling the most. He said goodbye to Pandora and went to him, while Sirius and Remus dealt with their own drama.
Peter wasn’t surprised nor was he shocked at what happened. He had known all along. He expected something like this to happen. When he saw Hadrian shed his Hufflepuff mask in the Great Hall, he knew that the only person in the world who would terrify him more than the Dark Lord was Hadrian Peverell.
Now the rest of the school, and soon the rest of Britain would know this as well. He had chosen his side in the war, and that was Hadrian’s. He just needed to help James come to terms with everything.
James knew that he had done a lot of growing up in the past year, but this was something entirely different. Hadrian had killed someone. He ripped out their heart and then he cleaned his freaking hands like he had just finished dinner, and it terrified him.
Those weren’t the actions of some knight in shining armor. They were the actions of someone who was taking their vengeance, and proving their point. He thought that when he joined the Aurors that it would be glorious battles and triumphs. He thought he would be putting the bad guys away, saving people and proving that the Light would always win.
This was never something that ever crossed his mind. The fact that he might need to kill someone, that battle wasn’t pretty or glorious. That it might not always be the bad guys on the wrong end of a wand was never a thought that crossed his mind. He was ashamed to say that he nearly threw up when Avery's heart,his freaking heart, fell from Hadrian’s hand like it was nothing but a spare piece of parchment. He didn’t even know where he was supposed to go from here, or how he was supposed to move forward.
His mind was blank for the first time in a really long time. He didn’t know what he was going to do. “The Potters have always been known to be a law unto themselves. They have never served a Dark Lord or a Light Lord. They marry for love and live according to their values. The only rules they follow are the ones they are able to live by, so James Potter, who will you be and how will you honor the legacy of your family?” asked Peter, and James just stared at his friend.
“Are you not afraid?” asked James. “Terrified.” Replied Peter with a shit eating grin. Seeing the look in his friend's eye he realized how different Peter was this past year. He had always been lagging behind the rest of them, not very confident and afraid to voice his thoughts but now he seemed to have grown up.
He finally found peace within himself. He was comfortable with who he was. He had the same sparkle of mischief in his eye that James did, and the same grin that Sirius had when he had trouble planned. He realized that Peter was just waiting for him to get his head on straight. “But we’re still gonna fight. We’re still gonna follow them and we’re gonna give them hell.”
Peter laughed, deep and rich, something that James realized he had never heard from Peter. “We fight in a way that allows us to look our parents and children in the eye. We make decisions that we know we can live with. We do what we believe is right and no matter how scary or unbelievable their actions are to us, as long as they can live with it then we stand by them. They are after all our friends.”
James sat up through the night with Peter by his side going through everything that he said. He was realizing that everything he said was true. He was still going to fight but not for glory or to be a hero but because it was what was right.
If he was going to fight and die then he was going to do so at the side of his family because by Merlin blood or not they were family.

Chapter Text

Hadrian and his siblings were in the room of requirements, while the rest of the school decided to bunker down to come to grips with their mortality. They were probably also wrestling with the fact that a Hufflepuff just ripped out a snake's heart to emphasize how pointless a blood war would be.
They were ignoring the life changing lesson that Hadrian had just taught to 3⁄4 of the school. They conveniently ignored the fact that several of their friends/love interests were having life changing thoughts and were making decisions that would shape their futures.
The room of requirements immediately changed into a comfortable lounge with a fire. Hadrian sagged into one of the softest couches available and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands in relief.
He was the General. He had gotten used to having eyes on him. People watching him was nothing new but he always put up a mask when that happened and it was tiring. Hermione, Draco and Neville settled themselves around him waiting for some sort of bloody explanation. He needed to explain the huge steps that he had taken without telling any of them his new plans. While they were able to roll with the punches, some things deserved explanations.
“You know Hadrian, if you wanted to give Dumbledore a heart attack, I would have gladly helped you plan something a little less bloody.” Drawled Hermione. Neville chuckled at how much of a brat their sister could be when she wanted to be one. The amount of sass in the one sentence probably weighed more than she did. That drawl perfectly mimicked Draco.
Hadrian rolled his eyes and ignored her sass while he collected his thoughts. He may have killed before in their reality or the future or whatever you wanted to think of it as, but the truth was that he had not done something so ruthless in a long time.
They had been in this timeline for over a year. Nearly two years, and the only thing that he did in that time was fight against Tommy for a few minutes. It all felt like a lifetime ago.
His heart was still racing from the duel. His eyes were a little brighter than usual. He supposed that this was the result when one hides a part of themselves away for so long. He had missed being on the front lines and leading his family. He missed being in control. For so long, he had controlled so much from the shadows but no longer. They couldn’t afford to keep their secrets anymore. It was time for them to step forward. They had done enough, and it was time to put pieces into play. It was time to show the world what the Peverell family was truly capable of doing.
“Dumbledore figured out it was me who managed to duel Tom in Diagon Alley. He tried to force me to become his puppet again. This was my warning to him not to push me any further.” Hadrian’s words were met with silence from his siblings. They eyed each other as they digested that Dumbledore knew, however they moved past it quickly.
Draco merely shrugged, “We knew not to underestimate him. In fact, if he hadn’t figured it out I would have been quite disappointed.” Neville nodded his head, “Agreed. The question is, why did you kill Evan Avery?” Hadrian merely raised an eyebrow at the question looking amused. Hermione rolled her eyes, “We know that he poisoned Draco in a pathetic attempt to steal the crown. He thought by weakening him before a battle, he would have a chance at winning. We didn’t expect you to turn his death into a spectacle. You didn’t have to manage the situation in that specific manner.”
Hadrian smiled. His siblings really did know him better than anyone else in the world. He did appreciate their loyalty. There were very few people in the world that would recognize the fact that even though he had been extremely angry, his actions were not controlled by said anger.
He was in control of every decision that he had made. Nothing was said or done that he had not already accounted for. That was something that only his siblings were able to see. It would have probably terrified everyone who had been present if they had known that he had not lost his temper. While he dueled against Evan he had not been angry but in complete control of his actions.
He had willingly ripped out his heart, making good on his promise because he wanted to do it. No one had seen him lose his temper. The mere thought of that was bloody terrifying because if this was him in control then what would he do if he ever lost that control?
Not even Dumbledore had realized that he wasn’t acting out of anger. He had a plan the entire time the duel was going on. Draco didn’t even get the chance to have a full conversation with him. He was simply ordered to stand as his second and he did so.
Draco didn’t need the full explanation at the time. Time was of the essence. The questions could wait until the duel was over. Now, here he was sitting on a couch eagerly getting his answers.
Then again, Dumbledore was still reeling from the amount of hits that Hadrian had managed to take at him without him being even a little bit prepared. He had caught the old man off guard. As beautiful as it had been, it was unlikely that he would be able to do so again. On second thought, Dumbledore wasn’t going to expect his next move either so he was going to enjoy the chaos that would come in the morning. Afterwards it was unlikely that he would be able to catch the man by surprise ever again.
“I handled Avery the way I did because he was loyal to Tom. There was nothing that Draco or I could do to turn him from his Lord. He was a nuisance. Evan Avery would be a pain in our asses for as long as we were in Hogwarts.”
Hadrian paused for a moment thinking, “Afterwards, he would continue to be a shit stain. This way he was useful to us. Besides, loyalty like that is dangerous. If we overlooked him even by accident, we could have found ourselves in hot water. We know better than underestimating loyalty and desperation to Tom Riddle.”
Neville winced at that, thinking back to Peter in their timeline. Draco nodded his head. It was true that while Evan was not very powerful or very bright he was loyal to Tom. Loyalty like that often bled into desperation. Evan would have tried to curry favor with his Lord. They weren’t sure what that would look like. He could have tried to get information. He could hurt or kill one of the siblings or any of their friends. The fact was that Evan was a servant of the Dark Lord, and Tom was currently very unhappy with the way his war was turning out.
That meant that sooner or later he would target someone to instill fear in them. Tom was many things and predictable was one of them. When things didn’t go his way, he enjoyed causing chaos and terrifying people into compliance.
Tom would plot, and probably try to discredit Dumbledore or the school. That meant targeting the students and having Evan inside the walls of Hogwarts would give him an opportunity.
They had lost many friends because they didn’t think that some people were dangerous. They thought that because they were locked up or without wands that they couldn’t cause trouble. They learned the hard way that those loyal to Tom would always find a way to cause trouble. In other words, it is better to be safe than sorry.
Evan Avery was dead. There was one less supporter of the Dark Lord walking inside the castle and he was now unable to harm anyone. Neville didn’t really care if Hadrian killed him or not. If Avery had attacked anyone else it was likely that he would have killed him just to stop him from being a pain but Neville just wanted to know why he had to die in front of the entire school.
Hadrian then continued his explanation, “Lord Avery was causing some trouble on the political front with Marcus and our other allies. There were also several rumors that he was trying to locate several families to use them against the Lords of their houses so he needed to go as well.”
Hermione stared at Hadrian when he started smiling to himself. “Stop that. You look like a serial killer.” She muttered and Neville hit her on the head. “It wasn’t even that hard to convince him to duel me. He thought that since I was a little Hufflepuff I wouldn’t be able to win against his son. Basically, I used his own ego against him to get him to agree to the duel.” Chuckled Hadrian.
Draco crackled, Neville laughed, and Hermione had to hide her smile behind her hands. Draco fought the urge to sigh. It really was such a problem for many of Tom’s supporters, none of them had any bloody common sense. He honestly couldn’t understand how people could look at Hadrian and not recognize the utter power that was rolling off of him even when he masked it.
Hadrian carried himself like a leader. Honestly, people were just so easily fooled by his kitten eyes and easy smiles. Lord Avery had basically just walked to death with a smile on his face and then nearly shat his pants when Hadrian allowed his power to roam free.
“As for why the theatrics, because the bloody school needed a wake-up call. I was sick to death of their bloody naivety. Tell me, weren’t you tired of them all wearing their rose- colored glasses?” Hermione merely shrugged, “I thought it was kind of funny. Many of them were running around yelling about good and evil and how they were going to be heroes. It was sort of amusing in an unrealistic kind of way. It gave me something to chuckle about every now and then.”
Neville face-palmed, “You’re spending too much time with Severus' sister. Your humor has gotten quite dark since you started hanging out with him.” Hermione scowled at him and couldn’t help but snipe back at him, “Dark as your soul, dear brother.” Draco hid his laugh with a cough. He was not getting in the middle of that spat. He didn’t have the energy to start squabbling with them right now. They had better things to do than snipe at each other.
Hadrian merely raised an eyebrow and declared, “Enough.” Hermione and Neville turned to him with identical smiles of innocence. They had unconsciously straightened their backs when he spoke in that tone, almost like they were waiting for orders. Draco rolled his eyes, “Oh please, Hadrian taught you both that look.” Draco didn’t even pretend to believe their innocent looks.
Hadrian stared at his siblings in shock, “You know I expected you guys to be mad or angry or even a bit frustrated that I just turned all our plans into dust.” Draco just shook his head, “We were, but at the same time it's just damn good to have you back where you belong. You’re acting as our leader in front of everyone. It was just tiring, hiding so much.”
Draco gestures towards their brother, “Neville had so much on his shoulders. Everything just went insane, we all know that. You never needed to step up no matter how insane things got. We’re just happy that we can be who we are, properly now. Neville nodded his head, “Hiding just got old.”
Hadrian could understand their frustration with secrets. None of them took well to being lied too. When it was them doing the lying it still didn’t get any easier. In fact, it just got harder because there was only so much you could show the world. It got lonely, wearing masks and it was tiring. It felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders. They all just wanted the freedom to stop hiding a part of themselves away.
Hadrian being their leader was a big part of themselves. They hid him, protected him, lied for him, and turned all the attention onto themselves so that he would be anonymous. It had taken a toll on them all, but now it was finally time for them all to step into the light. Hadrian nodded his head, understanding them.
They went back to their serious conversation, “Another reason why I killed them is because I wanted Tommy’s attention. He’ll come for me now probably during a Hogsmead weekend or something. I would like a chance to duel him properly. We need to figure out his power levels and figure out how sane he is right now.”
Hermione nearly face-palmed. She could understand this course of action. If the world saw Hadrian face off against Tom, then it would show them all the fact that Dumbledore wasn’t the only person in the world who would stand against him. They needed to get people to stop bowing down to the whims of that old man and get off their asses and save themselves. Seeing a teenager fight against the man that Dumbledore proclaimed as the evilest, most dangerous Dark Lord ever should get their asses moving.
Neville hated to admit it but Hadrian was right. They did need to see how powerful Tom was in this time period. They needed to know how sane he was as well. It would go a long way in helping them to figure out how he thought.
The version of Tom that they knew, was impulsive and angry all the time. It resulted in him making rash decisions. Now, it looked like they needed to kick him in the balls several times to get a reaction out of him. He only attacked once, and then they never heard from him again.
As horrible as the raids had been, there was a certain consistency to them. People died and it helped them keep better track of where he was and what he was doing. Without Severus giving them information they were left in the dark on many of his actions.
Tom needed to attack. He needed to take an interest in Hadrian because eventually they would have to duel to end the war. They weren’t done with the horcruxes yet. Their plans hinged on him coming after Hadrian. It was the only way to end things. “Bellatrix Black has married Malcolm McKinnon.” Said Hadrian.
Hermione immediately rubbed her hand over her mudblood scar. She winced thinking about the insane version of Bellatrix Lestrange who had given her the scar. “Well, that means there will be no crazy Bellatrix Lestrange. I say that’s good news.” Replied Neville, “That crazy bitch ruined a lot of lives.”
Draco rubbed the snake scars on his palms, still being hidden by his gloves. No one in Hogwarts had ever seen the Slytherin Peverell without gloves. Hermione always wore sleeves to cover her scars. Neville thought of his parents and how without a crazy Bella they wouldn’t be tortured into insanity. He couldn’t help the relieved sigh that left his lips. They all deserved so much better. “Good news yes, but there is bad news as well. She got the cup as a wedding present. Bella never marrying a Lestrange means that she won’t get the cup. We don’t know where it is.”
There was a heavy silence in the air as the siblings took in the fact that they would have to start looking from scratch to find the cup. “We have the ring, the locket, the diadem and the book is in Malfoy manor. We just need to get it.” Said Hermione and Draco bit his lip. “We need to move quickly on the dairy. Lucius Malfoy has stood with us, against the Dark Lord. His father will be punished and the book might be taken away.”
Hadrian cursed at the reminder that Lucius had followed Narcissa when she stood with them. While he valued her stance she had put Lucius in danger. Abraxas could die and none of them could care but they did need the dairy. They needed to get it before Tommy could call a meeting and punish the father for his son's choices. By morning, everyone would know what happened here.
Hermione stood up and a piece of parchment appeared before her with a quill. She quickly penned a note and called for Solly to deliver the note to Severus in the Slytherin common room. She prayed that this would work. “What have you done?” asked Neville and Hermione chuckled nervously. “I asked Severus to tell Lucius to summon Dobby and order him to steal the diary. Then set Dobby free or Hadrian would be coming for him next.”
Her response was met by raised eyebrows and stunned faces until she threw up her hands in frustration, “It was all we had. We don’t have time to storm Malfoy manor. Why do that when we already have a Malfoy that can get a house elf to bring it to him?” “What makes you think Lucius will listen?” asked Hadrian and Hermione rolled her eyes. “Lucius is a coward. He values his own life too much to care about a book and a house elf.” She replied and no one could really argue with her on that matter, so they just let it go.
Ten minutes later, Solly delivered the book wrapped in a silk cloth. They immediately locked it in an iron box and Dobby was offered a job to work for Hadrian. Honestly it shouldn’t have been that simple.
The siblings decided to go to bed afterwards. They chatted a bit more but none of them knew where to start on the cup. They were going to have to deal with the aftermath of everything that just happened today. They would get to enjoy the chaos that they were going to create in the morning.
Hogwarts was going to be stunned by their actions in the night, and the morning was going to bring even more surprises for them.
***
There was nervous energy humming through the crowd at breakfast the next morning. No one under the age of thirteen had been allowed to watch the events that had taken place but everyone knew. They were all waiting for the Peverell siblings. They wanted to see what was coming next.
Draco entered the hall dressed in his school uniform but his outer robe was different. It was black with the Slytherin crest on it. He wore on his right hand ring finger, a silver ring with an emerald green snake on it.
Eyes widened, whispers were heard and even Dumbledore had paled when every single snake rose to their feet and bowed to him in unison. Draco stood at the head of the table, “I am Lord Draco Thanatos Peverell-Slytherin, Lord of the most Ancient And Most Noble House of Slytherin. You may rise and be seated.”
Draco didn’t sit down. He just waited at the head of the table. He was ignoring the awestruck and confused faces of everyone in the school, while his snakes realized that their founder's line was still alive.
Hermione entered next. She was wearing a black cloak and her hair was piled onto her head in a soft bun. Nestled in her curls was a diadem, startlingly similar to the one Rowena Ravenclaw wore in her portraits. The crest of Ravenclaw proudly displayed across her back and a silver ring with a blue diamond in the shape of an eagle on it.
The house of Ravenclaw followed suit. They rose to their feet and bowed to her as she declared, “I am Hermione Hel Peverell-Ravenclaw, Lady of the Most Ancient And Most Noble House of Ravenclaw. You may rise and be seated.”
Neville entered wearing a black cloak with the crest of Gryffindor on his back. He wore a gold ring with a gold lion's head with rubies for eyes. The house of Lions, rose to their feet and bowed to him, “I am Neville Anubis Peverell- Gryffindor, Lord of the most Ancient And Most Noble House of Gryffindor, you may rise and be seated.”
The three siblings sat down in unison. Slowly breakfast began when Dumbledore rose and spoke, “We are all excited to know that three of the founder's line have been revived, however that does not excuse the-” He was cut off by the doors to the great hall opening. Every head turned to the doors as the person they had been waiting to see finally arrived.
Hadrian walked inside, with the symbol of the deathly hallows on his robes. He was wearing the stone of resurrection. He grinned as Dumbledore stared at the stone. Dumbledore’s eyes widened as he took in the symbol and the ring. They both knew what the ring truly was. They both knew that only Dumbledore would recognize the ring for what it truly was.
They both knew exactly what the house of Peverell meant to him. “Hadrian Hades Peverell, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell. I thank my Lord Brother for acting as my proxy however I have now taken full control of my estate.”
Hadrian’s three siblings rose to their feet and walked towards him as he was speaking. They stood with him, shoulder to shoulder, as he stared at the headmaster. Several eyes widened at the amount of political power, wealth, and magic that the four siblings had between them. They made it very clear that they stood together.
However, for Dumbledore, the four of them standing together meant something completely different. They had been playing him from the first moment they met. Hadrian had been moving his siblings around like chess pieces in a game that he had previously been playing only with Tom.
He locked eyes with Hadrian and the same thought flashed through both their eyes at the same time.
“Game on.”

Chapter Text

A murmur ran through the student body, rippling like fire racing over dry parchment. The Slytherins were the loudest, hissing amongst themselves in disbelief, suspicion, awe. Ravenclaws half-stood, half-sat, as if unsure whether to bow a second time. The Gryffindors looked like they wanted to cheer and fight in the same breath.
The Hufflepuffs—their Hufflepuffs—sat in perfect silence, watching Hadrian with the sharp, unwavering focus of loyal soldiers waiting for command.
With every eye in the Great Hall on them, the Peverell siblings glided to their seats and sat down in unison. There was a catastrophe of whispers, some louder than others. Next to Draco, Severus leaned over, “You really are the king of Slytherin.” Simply Draco responded, “Yes, I am.” whispers of reference and politics could be heard from the Slytherin table, many alliances were to be formed that day.
At the Ravenclaw table Hermione sat poised and collected. Hundreds of questions were being thrown at her. “Is that Rowena’s diadem? Was your mom a descendent? Why are you only now revealing it?” All the Ravenclaws were clamoring for answers. Next to her Pandora smiled and nodded at her once, she had her support.
The Gryffindor table was by far the loudest. Their voices ringing throughout the Great Hall. On each side of Neville sat a Marauder, on his right was Remus and on his left was Peter. James and Sirius were still in states of shock but were quite excited about the news. As Neville started eating his breakfast, Peter leaned over and asked, “What are you going to do now? Are you each going to take your seats respectively?” With a coy look Neville replied, “When the time is right you will see.”
At the Hufflepuff table, Hadrian ate like nothing had happened. He ignored everybody around him, and refused to answer any questions. All throughout the table Hufflepuffs were whispering about the man who seemed so innocent but had killed the day before. When they thought about it, it all made sense. Hadrian heard whispered questions of, “Why did Neville act as your proxy? Are you taking up your seats now?” But all of them, for the moment, went unanswered.
All throughout the great hall students were writing letters home. By the end of the day all of magical Britain would know the news. The houses of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Peverell are back and they are back with a purpose.
***
Dumbledore’s voice broke through the static, brittle but firm. “This display,” he began, “while impressive, does not excuse the violence we—”
“Silence.” Hadrian’s words cut across the Hall like a whip. He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. His voice carried with the weight of command, the sort of tone that soldiers instinctively obey, the sort that generals sharpen through blood and fire.
To the astonishment of all, even the headmaster faltered.
Hermione tilted her head, an almost lazy smirk tugging at her mouth. Draco leaned on the back of a chair with all the poise of a pureblood lord surveying lesser men. Neville’s eyes burned with quiet steel. For one perfect moment, they were untouchable.
It did not last. The spell broke when a Ravenclaw, some wide-eyed fifth year student, blurted out, “But that means, you’re founders!” The dam burst. Voices overlapped, students clamoring, professors shouting for order. Whispers of Peverell tangled with Slytherin heir, Ravenclaw restored, Gryffindor returned. Centuries of pureblood stories colliding with reality.
Dumbledore slammed his staff against the floor, sending sparks of magic rippling outward. “Enough!” The noise dimmed. Not silenced, but cowed.
Eyes turned to the headmaster. For the first time in decades, his expression was not one of grandfatherly calm but of fury straining under the leash of self-control. His gaze swept the four siblings like a hawk measuring prey. “I will speak with you in my office. Now.”
Hadrian’s lips curled into something sharp, feral, and far too knowing. “Later,” he said simply, and the siblings moved as one to the doors, ignoring the sea of stares. The message was clear: they would not be summoned like children.
The meal that followed was chaos. Every whisper felt like a dagger thrown in the siblings’ direction. Some students whispered in awed tones, others in fear, and still others in thinly veiled hatred. The pureblood children who had grown up on tales of the Founders looked ill, how were they meant to sneer at Muggleborns when Rowena’s heir herself now sat among them?
***
As the siblings exited Remus, Sirius, Lilly, and Severus all stood to follow. Once the doors to the Great Hall closed, it was chaos. All throughout the great hall students were writing letters home. By the end of the day all of magical Britain would know the news. The houses of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Peverell were back and they are back with a vengeance.
In the hallway each of the Peverell siblings looked to who had followed them. It was Hermione who asked the question plaguing everyone’s mind, “Are you choosing us, are you choosing to fight in a war that is not your own? If you follow us from here, you are. You won’t be able to change your minds once you follow us. Are you ready for this, if not we will not judge if you leave.” Severus looked around to those assembled, “We are ready, we know the consequences of our actions, and we are ready to face them. We will stand with you, each of you, for as long as we’re able. We will stand with you as partners, soldiers, and hopefully significant others.”
With a nod the siblings took the hand of their significant other, and led them to their secret place. The place where all of the planning takes place. The room of requirement, the room that can become whatever you need it to be. As they went up the stairs and down corridors, they realized that Sirius, Remus, Severus, and Lilly had chosen them. They had chosen to stand by them no matter what, and that thought felt good.
The Room of Requirement had anticipated their need before they even reached the door.
When Hadrian’s hand brushed the wood, it melted into a stone archway and revealed a sprawling war-room dressed in velvet shadows. A circular table sat at the center, carved with the crests of the Founders, its edges littered with parchment and quills. A fire roared in the hearth, throwing gold across their faces as they filed inside. Outside the door Sirius, Remus, Severus, and Lilly paused, were they ready for this?
Meanwhile, the siblings collapsed into seats with the practiced exhaustion of soldiers coming off the front lines. Masks stripped away the moment the door sealed shut.
Draco tugged his outer robe free and draped it across the back of his chair, lips curved in a sharp smirk. “Well. That was fun.” Neville groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fun is not the word I would use.” Hermione snorted. “Try catastrophic.” Hadrian sprawled back in his seat, looking maddeningly at ease, one leg hooked over the arm of his chair. “I’d say effective.” Hermione with a dark look muttered, “You would.”
The door once again creaked open, admitting four more figures.
Sirius swept in first, his grin bright enough to light the room. He dropped into the seat beside Hadrian like he’d been born to it, leaning against his shoulder without hesitation. “You know,” Sirius said cheerfully, “if you’d warned me you were going to terrify the entire school and upend wizarding society before breakfast, I’d have worn better robes.”
Hadrian didn’t move him off. He simply threaded their fingers together under the table, expression unreadable save for the faint flicker of warmth in his eyes. Draco rolled his eyes. “You could never wear robes well enough to be taken seriously anyway.”
“Jealous?” Sirius shot back with a wolfish grin. Before Draco could retort, Lily swept past him, flame-bright hair catching the firelight, her hand finding Draco’s shoulder with a casual intimacy that silenced him mid-insult. “Ignore him,” she said lightly, voice carrying the sharpness of someone used to commanding attention. “Your little performance this morning was brilliant. Overly dramatic, of course—but then, I expect nothing less from a Peverell.”
Draco tilted his head up to look at her, smug grin softening in a way it never did for anyone else. “I’ll take brilliant, even with the insult.” Neville gagged into his hand.
Remus followed Lily in, expression quiet, steady, as though he were cataloging every movement in the room. He settled next to Neville, their shoulders brushing, his hand finding Neville’s knee under the table. “I’d agree with Hermione. Catastrophic is closer. You’ve lit a fire that’s not going out anytime soon.” Neville didn’t argue. He just leaned a little into the touch, comforted by Remus’ steadiness in a way he couldn’t quite voice
Last came Severus, gliding into the seat beside Hermione with a grace that suggested confidence in his skills towards everyone present. He didn’t speak immediately, simply folded his arms and arched one eyebrow. Hermione smirked at the familiar gesture, nudging his elbow with hers until he allowed the faintest twitch of a smile.
Eight of them now sat around the circular table: four siblings, four partners. A court in miniature.
Hadrian broke the silence first. “Well?” Hermione blew out a breath. “The school is fractured. Slytherin’s split down the middle, Ravenclaws are panicking, Gryffindors are confused but leaning our way, and Hufflepuffs… well, Hufflepuffs have already declared you the second coming of Helga.”
Draco smirked, “As they should.” Neville with a sharp look, muttered “Don’t be smug, Draco.” Draco, offended, replied “Why not? It suits me.” Hermione threw a quill at him.
Lily folded her arms, voice slicing through the bickering. “The bigger concern is the owls. By now every lord and lady in the Wizengamot knows you’ve claimed your titles. Half of them are already plotting ways to use you. The other half are sharpening knives.”
Draco looked up at her, sharp and proud. “And where do you stand, my Lady?” Her smile was dangerous. “With you, obviously. Don’t think you’re rid of me now.”
Neville made a face. “Please, not in the war room.”
Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, let them. If they don’t flirt shamelessly, I will.” He nudged Hadrian with his shoulder. “How about we scandalize the Wizengamot together, love? Show them what happens when power and charm unite?”
Hadrian didn’t even blink. “You have charm?” Sirius gasped in mock offense. “You wound me, General.” The siblings snorted, but the humor was thin. Beneath it, tension hummed.
Severus finally spoke, his tone silk over steel. “The Ministry will not ignore this. Dumbledore certainly won’t. You’ve stripped him of his strongest weapon—his monopoly on being the beacon of hope. And you’ve done it with blood on your hands. He’ll use that. He’ll paint you as dangerous children wielding power you don’t understand.” Hermione tapped her fingers on the table, eyes narrowed. “Let him try. We understand our power better than anyone alive.”
“You’re missing his point,” Remus said quietly. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true. It matters if people believe it. Dumbledore’s strength has always been in controlling the narrative. If he convinces enough people you’re reckless, you’ll find yourself fighting two wars instead of one.”
“Then we control the narrative better,” Hadrian said simply. His eyes glittered, sharp and dangerous in the firelight. “Let them see us as ruthless. Let them fear us. Fear moves people faster than hope ever did.” The silence that followed was heavy.
Neville broke it with a low voice. “Tom won’t stay quiet after this.” Lily nodded. “He’ll test you. Push back, see how far he can bend you before you break.” Draco smiled thinly. “Let him try.” Hermione’s hand found Severus’, gripping hard enough to draw his eyes to her. “We’ll be ready.”
The siblings leaned in then, plotting in low, lethal voices. Draco was mapping the fractures in Slytherin and how to turn them into leverage. Hermione was strategizing propaganda, subtle quills in newspapers, whispers in libraries. Neville was drafting defense patrols, Gryffindors drilled until they moved like a unit. Hadrian was outlining the next move: baiting Tom into showing his hand.
Their partners interjected with perspectives the siblings hadn’t considered. Sirius reminded them of how fear twists students into reckless choices. Lily pushed for political alliances that could be forged quickly, before Dumbledore moved first. Severus insisted they shore up internal security, that betrayal would come from within. Remus reminded them of the cost, the cost of leadership and war.
The fire crackled, throwing shadows across their faces until the eight of them looked less like students and more like the generals and leaders they had already become. It was Lily who ended the council, rising first with her chin high. “You’ve made your move. The board is set. Now we see who dares challenge you.”
Draco rose with her, offering his hand. She took it without hesitation. One by one, the others followed until only Hadrian and Sirius remained seated. Sirius leaned close, voice pitched low for Hadrian alone. “Do you ever get tired of playing gods and kings?” Hadrian’s answering smile was razor-sharp. “Never.” And in the firelight, it looked like his shadow was wearing a crown.
***
By the next morning, the Ministry owls carried a scandal wrapped in parchment. Every headline screamed variations of the same truth: “The Peverell Heirs Have Returned, Hogwarts’ Founders’ Bloodline Revealed, Four Children Claim Ancient Magic.”
The Wizengamot chamber buzzed with the sound of outrage, awe, and greed. Lords and Ladies in their finest plumage leaned across the benches, their whispers hissing like serpents under the vaulted ceiling.
Lord Nott slammed his cane against the floor. “Children cannot lay claim to legacies older than the stones of this chamber!”
“Children?” scoffed Lady Greengrass, eyes glittering with interest. “Those ‘children’ just outmaneuvered Dumbledore on his own stage. Perhaps you ought to respect what you clearly fear.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the chamber.
Across the aisle, Augusta Longbottom’s chin was held so high it might have scraped the ceiling. “They are no children. They are the rightful Lords and Lady, and if any of you dare suggest otherwise, you’ll find they do not forget insults. Remember who Lord Prevell just recently killed.”
The threat hung heavy.
At the high seat, Dumbledore sat in deceptive calm, his fingers steepled. His eyes twinkled with carefully measured sorrow, the perfect mask of a disappointed mentor. “They are young,” he said softly, and yet his voice carried across the chamber. “And youth can be led astray. It is our responsibility, as guardians of the magical world, to ensure they do not become weapons in darker hands.” A calculated pause. The faintest droop of his shoulders. A saint bearing the burden of wayward children. “Or in darker hearts.”
The whispering flared again. Some nodded. Some frowned. Some calculated how best to profit from the schism. The Peverell siblings had thrown down their gauntlet, and the Wizengamot, greedy and divided, scrambled to decide who would pick it up.
In the Pureblood Households, behind the gilded doors of ancestral manors, conversations burned hotter still.
At Malfoy Manor, Narcissa’s voice cut the air like a blade. “Draco stands at the right hand of power. The world will bend to him or break before him.” Lucius’ hand tightened on his cane. “Or he will fall, crushed between Dumbledore’s grasp and the Dark Lord’s fury.” Narcissa’s smile was thin. “You underestimate him, think about all he’s done.”
In the Parkinson estate, Lady Parkinson hissed through her teeth, pacing. “If the Peverell rise, where does that leave us? Pawns in a game played centuries before we were born?” Her husband replied, voice low, “Then we must choose quickly whether to serve them—or destroy them.”
In the Greengrass drawing room, Lady Greengrass sipped her tea with serene composure. “Children, perhaps. But clever ones. We will watch them closely. If they are truly the heirs of the Founders, then aligning with them may secure our house for generations.” Her husband frowned. “And if they fail?” She responded, serene as a guillotine. “Then we will step aside at the right moment,”
The houses whispered, weighed, and plotted. Some saw opportunity, some saw threats. They all saw change bound to come.
***
Far from the silks and gold, the shadows whispered too.
In the dingy corners of Knockturn Alley, men and women huddled close, muttering of names older than their families, older than the Ministry, older than Voldemort himself. “The Peverells,” spat a toothless wizard. “Thought them long dead.” Another muttered, “Dead men don’t steal the Dark Lord’s thunder.”
A woman leaned in, voice low and trembling. “If they truly bear the Founders’ magic, then maybe—not even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can stand against them.” A hand slapped across her mouth, fear stark in their eyes. Even in whispers, Tom Riddle’s shadow lingered.
***
In a hidden chamber lit only by the sickly glow of cursed fire, Tom Riddle himself read the headline. He read it once, twice, and the parchment crumpled in his hands.
“Peverell,” he hissed. The name burned his tongue, half-hatred, half-fear. For all his arrogance, for all his brilliance, Tom Riddle had been a boy in a London orphanage once, pouring through stolen books, dreaming of power. And in those books, there had always been the Peverells. Whispers of a family that had touched Death itself and walked away laughing.
And now—children dared wear that name as a crown. His fury cracked like a whip. Magic scorched the air. A snake writhed in terror at his feet. “They think of themselves as my equals,” he breathed, voice shaking with rage. “They think they will play my game.”
He rose, every inch of him trembling with barely caged fury. “Then I will remind them—games end in death.” The chamber trembled.
***
Back at Hogwarts, as the siblings broke from their council, a thousand ripples were already spreading outward, some to the Wizengamot, some to the pureblood estates, some to the shadows of Knockturn Alley, and some even to the heart of Voldemort himself.
The board had been set, and the world was moving.

Chapter Text

The Slytherin common room was not built for war, but that was what it had become. The air thrummed with tension, thicker than the damp chill clinging to the dungeon stones. Students clustered in circles, some whispering with feverish excitement, others glaring daggers across the emerald-lit space.
At the center of it all stood Draco Peverell-Slytherin, pale hair gleaming in the firelight. He had discarded his gloves, scars bared, the serpent ring catching and reflecting the green glow of the wall torches. His presence filled the room like a coiled snake ready to strike.
“You’ve all seen the truth,” he said, voice even, almost conversational—yet every syllable rang like steel on stone. “The line of Salazar Slytherin is not only alive. It stands here, in me.”
A ripple ran through the gathered students. Severus gave a slow, predatory smile and murmured, “As it should be.” Regulus clapped his hands together, beaming at Draco like he was his salvation. A cluster of second-years looked at him with awe so bright it was almost blinding.
But not everyone bowed.
A sixth-year named Montague, with a sneer and his words dripping venom. “You think you can waltz in here, wave a ring around, and we’ll just forget centuries of tradition? You’re a Prevell, not Salazar. All you’ve done is stitch two names together and play lord.”
A student stepped forward, face twisted in disdain. “Slytherin valued cunning, not theatrics. If you were really his heir, you wouldn’t need to put on a bloody show in the Great Hall. You’d prove yourself here, where it matters.”
The crowd tensed. Several older purebloods muttered in agreement, pride pricking at their already wounded egos.
Draco smiled, it was a slow, cold curve of lips that carried none of the warmth his Housemates remembered seeing. “If I were pretending,” he said softly, “you wouldn’t be this afraid of me.”
The words hit like hexes.
Half the room jeered, shouting slurs, clinging to old hierarchies as if their lineage might protect them. The other half shouted Draco’s name, claiming him, their voices rising like a battle hymn. The emerald serpent had turned on itself, hissing in fury, and Draco stood calm at its heart, eyes glittering with calculation.
He had expected this. Division was inevitable. And Slytherin House, he thought grimly, would either be reforged in his image—or torn apart entirely.
***
Ravenclaw Tower had always been a place of quiet murmurs and rustling parchment, the rhythm of quills scratching against scrolls. Tonight it was a hive of voices, sharp and insistent, circling Hermione like wolves around a flame.
“Is it true you’re Rowena’s heir?” a younger girl blurted, eyes round as moons. “What does that mean for us?” another demanded. “Do you control the House now?”
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” came a sharper voice, “Were we not worthy of knowing?” And then, quieter, more dangerous: “Can you prove it?”
The questions piled higher and faster, wings beating against her ears. Some eyes glimmered with awe, but others with envy and fear. Ravenclaws prided themselves on wit, on merit. The thought that destiny or blood might trump intellect unsettled them more than they would admit.
Hermione raised her chin. The diadem nestled in her hair caught the firelight, silver and blue shimmering with quiet power. At her side stood Severus—unmoving, his expression carved from shadow, his very presence daring anyone to step closer.
“Yes,” Hermione said, her voice calm and unyielding. “I am Rowena Ravenclaw’s heir. No, I will not parade my bloodline for your entertainment. My actions will speak more than any ritual or parchment ever could.”
The room stilled, the questions strangled in their throats.
But silence was not unity. Whispers slithered to the corners, curling like smoke. Some students muttered their loyalty, their eagerness to stand with her. Others drew back, eyes narrowed, weighing whether to challenge her claim. A handful wore expressions sharp with resentment—those who had built their pride on achievement alone, suddenly threatened by an accident of blood.
Hermione met their gazes in turn, refusing to flinch. If Ravenclaws loved riddles, then let them puzzle this one out: a leader who asked for neither blind faith nor submission, but trust built in the crucible of action.
Later, when the Tower quieted, she sat in the high-backed chair beneath Rowena’s portrait. The painted founder watched her with a gaze of ancient sorrow and pride, lips moving in words Hermione could not hear.
Severus bent close, his breath warm at her ear. “You silenced them, but you haven’t won them.” Hermione’s lips tightened. “I don’t need to win them. Not yet. I only need them to listen.” Still, her hands trembled faintly where no one could see.
***
The Gryffindor common room was never quiet, but tonight its noise was charged, every word vibrating with a strange new energy. The fire crackled, sparks leaping high as if even it sensed something had shifted.
Neville stood awkwardly near the hearth, heat painting his cheeks. He could feel the weight of every gaze on him. “You really are Godric’s heir?” a sixth year asked, awe in his voice.
Neville swallowed, but he didn’t look away. “Yes.” James let out a low whistle. “Well, that explains a lot, doesn’t it?” He grinned, elbowing Peter. “Always knew there was something bloody solid about him.”
Laughter rippled, but it wasn’t mocking. It was warmer, steadier. Neville felt it sink into his bones like sunlight. For once, the laughter wasn’t at his expense—it was with him. “You don't understand,” Remus said, his voice fierce. “This changes everything. Gryffindor House has been waiting for someone to remind us who we are. Neville’s that person.” The words sent murmurs spreading like wildfire.
The door to the common room swung open, and McGonagall swept in, robes flaring. Her gaze flicked across the room, sharp and searching. She had expected chaos, shouting, perhaps even a duel over the claim of heirship. Instead, she found calm. Not silence, but a steadiness in the air she had not felt in years.
Her eyes landed on Neville. “Peverell,” she said, crisp as ever. “Do you have something to tell me?” Neville’s heart thudded, but he stood tall, shoulders squared. “Only that the House of Gryffindor isn’t just a name. It’s a responsibility. And I intend to honor it.” McGonagall’s lips twitched. For the barest instant, a smile threatened before she smoothed it away. “See that you do, Mr. Peverell.”
As she turned, she caught sight of Remus standing quietly at Neville’s side. The professor gave the boy—her student—a small nod. And Remus, pride shining in his amber eyes, returned it. For the first time, Minerva McGonagall felt a flicker of certainty that Gryffindor House was in safe hands.
***
If Gryffindor’s reaction was fire, Hufflepuff’s was earth—steady, unyielding, but shaken at its core. The common room was hushed, filled with the sweet scent of herbs and polished wood. Students sat scattered, eyes drawn again and again to the figure seated by the hearth, to Hadrian.
He looked utterly at ease, lounging in one of the overstuffed chairs, the symbol of the Hallows embroidered into his robes catching the flickering firelight. But his eyes were alert, sharp, watching every expression, every twitch.
Will Fawley cleared his throat, trying for formality. “You—you’re really Lord Peverell?” Hadrian with a calm, even voice “Yes, and I’m still a Hufflepuff.”
A murmur rippled. Some relaxed at that, others frowned deeper.
Amelia Bones stood. Her voice carried the weight of her family name. “We’re loyal to each other here. Always have been. But you… you didn’t just reveal yourself. You declared war on Dumbledore in front of the whole school. What does that mean for us?”
Hadrian’s gaze softened, but his words were steel. “It means you’ll need to decide whether loyalty is only comfortable when it’s easy—or if it still stands when things get dangerous.”
The firelight flickered over nervous faces.
Will Farley bit his lip. “But… you’re not like the others. You—” He broke off, struggling.
Hadrian leaned forward, voice low. “You’ve all seen what I can do. But understand this: I don’t stand apart from you, I stand with you. Every one of you who chooses to claim your House’s strength. Hufflepuff has always been dismissed as weak, but I intend to make sure the world never dares to do that again.”
Silence, then, slowly, Amelia Bones rose to her feet. Her chin trembled, but her voice was firm. “Then we stand with you.” Others followed—some eagerly, some hesitantly.
Hadrian leaned back, a faint smile ghosting across his lips. His House had not fractured like the others. It had bent, shaken—but at its core, it held, and that was enough.
***
Later, long after the dormitories had quieted and the common rooms dimmed, the Peverell siblings gathered in the Room of Requirement. The chamber had shaped itself into a long table surrounded by high-backed chairs, a flickering fire painting the walls with restless light.
But tonight, they were not alone.
Sirius lounged at Hadrian’s side, his grin wild and sharp, though his eyes stayed fixed on his lover with quiet protectiveness. Across the table, Lily sat close to Draco, fingers entwined with his, her green eyes gleaming with defiance. Severus leaned in near Hermione, shadows clinging to him, his hand brushing hers under the table where no one else could see, and Remus stood just behind Neville, steady as the moon, his presence anchoring the youngest Peverell’s calm authority.
It was a sight to shake the world: four heirs, four founders reborn—and their chosen equals beside them.
Hermione broke the silence first. “Ravenclaw is restless. Half of them look at me like a puzzle they can’t solve. The other half like I’ve stolen their right to exist.” Draco smirked. “Slytherin’s tearing itself apart. Half are eager to kneel. Half are eager to knife me in the back.” Neville sighed. “Gryffindor’s listening. For now. But I’m not sure how long that will last.” Hadrian’s gaze swept them all. His siblings. His family. His anchors. “Hufflepuff is afraid,” he admitted. “But they haven’t broken. That’s something.”
The room fell quiet. Each heir, each consort, lost in their own thoughts. Then Hadrian leaned forward, his voice low, each word deliberate. “Dumbledore is not our biggest problem.” Four sets of eyes snapped to him. “He’ll scheme. He’ll push. But we know his games. We can counter them. What matters is Tom.” His fingers drummed once against the table. “He will not ignore this. He cannot. And when he comes, it won’t be with speeches and politics. It will be with blood.”
The fire seemed to gutter, shadows leaping higher. Draco’s smirk faltered. Hermione’s jaw tightened. Neville swallowed hard. Sirius laid a hand on Hadrian’s arm. “And we’ll be ready.”
Hadrian’s eyes gleamed. “We have to be, because Dumbledore plays chess.” His smile turned sharp, dangerous. “But Tom plays war, and war is the only game I’ve ever been good at.” Silence fell, heavy, and absolute.
The heirs and their chosen looked at one another across the table, the fire painting their faces in shades of gold and shadow. In that silence, one truth settled over them all: The Houses were divided, Hogwarts was watching, and Tom Riddle was coming.

Chapter Text

It began, as it always did, with whispers.
Owls flew at strange hours, not to the castle but to shadowed alleys, deserted farmhouses, abandoned shrines of long-forgotten magic. The faithful gathered in twos and threes, summoned by the same mark that burned faintly on their arms, restless as a living thing.
The Dark Lord did not raise his voice. He did not need to. “Hadrian Peverell declares himself,” Voldemort murmured to the loyal few permitted to kneel at his feet. His scarlet gaze glittered with cruel amusement. “He believes himself untouchable in his school. A fortress of stone and children.” His hand moved idly over Nagini’s coils. “We will test this fortress. Strike where it does not look. Show them that walls and titles are nothing before true power.”
The kneeling Death Eaters bowed their heads, the first countermove had been played.
***
The wizarding world was never truly at peace, but the sudden escalation was unmistakable.
A family of half-blood broom makers in Cornwall found their workshop in flames, runes carved into the ashes spelling Traitors to the Cause. In Cardiff, a healer vanished from St. Mungo’s, only her wand left behind, snapped clean in two. A group of Muggleborn children on holiday to Hogsmeade were ambushed on the outskirts of the village—saved only because Aurors happened to be near.
Each strike was small, scattered, deniable if one wished to pretend. But together, they formed a pattern clear as a serpent’s trail in the snow, and at the heart of it, every whisper carried the same poisoned refrain: The Dark Lord watches, and the Dark Lord answers.
Even within the Ministry, cracks deepened. Some officials condemned the attacks, vowing greater protections. Others quietly muttered that the Heirs had stirred the serpent from its sleep. Pamphlets appeared overnight on Diagon Alley corners: crude sketches of four young figures crowned in ancient symbols, the word Children slashed across their faces. By morning, the pamphlets had vanished, swept away by fearful hands, but the unease remained.
***
The castle walls had always kept danger out. Now, they felt less like protection and more like a cage. Students whispered in corridors, their voices brittle with fear. Some boasted loudly that the Heirs would protect them, voices strained with false confidence. Others muttered that the Heirs were the reason the Dark Lord struck at all.
Professor McGonagall doubled patrols. Filch clanked down corridors with chains at his belt. The portraits gossiped more viciously than ever, carrying tales between towers. Even the ghosts grew restless—Nearly Headless Nick drifted about pale with worry, while the Bloody Baron haunted the dungeons with unusual fervor, muttering about “blood that always comes again.”
The Peverell siblings felt the pressure most keenly. At meals, every eye turned to them. Allies looked for reassurance. Enemies looked for weakness. Hermione muttered over her pumpkin juice, “If one more person asks me if the Diadem can stop a Death Eater curse, I’m hexing them.” Draco snorted. “At least they’re asking you. Half of Slytherin is busy plotting how to use me to negotiate with Riddle. The other half’s hoping he kills me first.”
Neville’s expression was sober. “The Gryffindors are restless. They want to fight. Most of them don’t even understand what fighting means.” Hadrian sat silent, gaze sweeping the Hall. His House huddled tighter at his table, their loyalty growing more stubborn with every strike against the world outside. But he could see the fear underneath, the same fear curling in every House. It was only a matter of time before fear turned to panic.
***
Hufflepuff Tower, usually a refuge of warmth, hummed with unease. The common room fire burned low as knots of students whispered in anxious clusters. Food sat untouched on plates, a rare sight in their House.
“Why us?” a younger boy whispered fiercely. “We don’t matter to him—we’re not even in the way!”
“You think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cares who’s in the way?” a girl snapped. “He burns what he wants. He’ll come here if he thinks it proves a point.” The murmur swelled until it broke at the sound of the door opening. Hadrian stepped inside. Conversation froze.
He crossed the room slowly, the flicker of firelight catching in his green eyes, and the dark crest embroidered on his robes. When he stopped before them, the hush was so deep the crackle of the hearth seemed deafening.
“You are afraid,” Hadrian said simply. His voice was quiet, but it carried each word deliberately. “That is not a weakness. Fear keeps us from recklessness. But if you let it rule you, if you let it decide for you—then Tom has already won.”
A second-year’s voice trembled: “But what can we do? We’re just students.” Hadrian’s gaze softened. “You are not just anything. You are Hufflepuffs. You stand when others fall. You guard what others abandon. That is why I will never allow Tom to break this House. Or any House. He fears unity more than he fears power.”
Murmurs rippled through the room—hesitant, then stronger. A seventh-year girl, face set with determination, rose to her feet. “If he comes for us, he’ll find we don’t fall easy.” A rough cheer followed, not loud but steady. Something in the air shifted—not the banishing of fear, but its tempering into resolve. Hadrian inclined his head slightly, then left them to their fire. He did not need to stay; the spark was lit.
***
That night, the Room of Requirement shaped itself again into the council chamber, torches flickering on the walls, shadows dancing across the long table.
The siblings entered one by one, their chosen at their sides. Sirius dropped into a chair beside Hadrian, all restless energy and sharp grins, though his hand never strayed far from his wand. Lily’s presence at Draco’s side was like a silent vow of defiance. Severus leaned against the wall near Hermione, dark eyes sharp and unreadable. Remus clasped Neville’s shoulder, grounding him with quiet strength.
The air was heavy before a word was spoken.
Hadrian broke the silence first. “Tom has answered.” Hermione’s knuckles whitened where they gripped the table. “The attacks. Small, but deliberate.” Neville nodded. “He’s testing us, looking for weaknesses.” Draco leaned back, expression cool. “And reminding the world that while we play at heirship in our school, he holds the real board.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. The crackle of the fire seemed louder, harsher. Finally, Lily asked the question hanging over them all. “So what do we do?” The question lingered in the firelit chamber like smoke: What do we do?
Draco was the first to answer. His pale eyes glimmered with something sharp, almost hungry. “We strike back, we show him we’re not children to be toyed with. Let him bleed before he thinks we are weak.” Lily tightened her grip on his hand, but she did not contradict him. Her own gaze burned with the same fierce certainty.
Neville shook his head, steady as stone. “No, Gryffindor’s already restless. If we march into open conflict, half the House will follow blindly, and half will panic. We’d be handing Tom chaos to feed on.” Remus, calm but firm, added, “And Hogwarts itself would unravel. Your siblings hold the Houses together by a thread. Push too soon, and that thread snaps.”
Hermione sat rigid, jaw tight. “Draco’s right about one thing—we can’t look weak. Every attack outside the castle makes the students doubt us. But if we abandon the school to chase shadows, what happens here?” Severus’s voice cut through the air, low and silken. “Fear is already seeding itself. Dumbledore may not be the enemy you fear most, but never underestimate him. If he senses Hogwarts slipping beyond his grip, he will move. Perhaps not against you directly—but against those you claim to protect.”
Draco sneered. “So we cower in the castle, play prefects, and let Riddle cut down whoever he pleases outside these walls? That’s your plan?” “No,” Hermione snapped. “But neither is charging into his hands.”
The table vibrated with the heat of their voices, the ancient quarrels of founders reborn. Boldness clashing with caution, cunning snarling against wisdom, loyalty trying to steady them all. Through it all, Hadrian listened, silent and watching.
Finally, Sirius slammed a hand down, startling even Draco. “Enough. You’re tearing at each other while Riddle laughs. Let’s hear Hadrian.” The room stilled and all eyes turned to face him.
Hadrian rose slowly, the fire painting his features in bronze and shadow. He looked at each of them in turn—his siblings, their chosen, the weight of legacy burning in their gazes. “Draco’s right about one thing,” he said softly. “We can’t let Tom believe we’re afraid. If we hide behind these walls, he’ll bleed the world until Hogwarts itself is a tomb.” Draco smirked triumphantly—until Hadrian’s eyes cut to him, sharp as glass. “But Neville and Hermione are also right. Charging into his traps will hand him everything he wants. He doesn’t care about blood spilled on the fringes. He wants us rattled. He wants us desperate. He wants us to overreach.”
Hadrian leaned forward, palms flat on the table. The shadows seemed to bend toward him. “So we give him what he thinks he wants. A measured strike, something small, calculated. We bait him into revealing his hand.” Hermione frowned. “Bait?”
A smile curved Hadrian’s lips, dark and knowing. “Tom’s pride is his greatest weakness. He cannot stand a challenge unanswered. If we hit him in a place that matters to his followers, he’ll be forced to react. And when he reacts, we’ll learn what he truly intends.”
The silence was heavy, broken only by the pop of the fire. Neville asked quietly, “And if we’re wrong?” Hadrian’s green eyes gleamed. “Then we stop waiting for war. We will bring it to him.”
Draco’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Now that,” he drawled, “sounds like a plan worth following.” Lily squeezed his hand, pride glowing in her eyes.
Hermione exhaled slowly. She still looked troubled, but her gaze had steadied. “If we do this, it has to be precise. No grand speeches, no open declarations. We strike like a knife, not a hammer.” Severus’s mouth curled in approval. “Finally, some sense.”
Neville exchanged a look with Remus. He gave him a small nod, quiet reassurance. Neville lifted his chin. “Then we prepare Gryffindor for what’s coming. They’ll follow if they trust us, and I’ll make sure they do.” Remus’s voice was calm, but resolute. “And I’ll make sure they understand that following means discipline, not blind recklessness.”
Sirius leaned back in his chair, grinning at Hadrian. “I like it. Dangerous, clever, and guaranteed to piss Tom off. Just your style.” Hadrian smirked faintly. But his eyes—those ancient, haunted eyes—held no humor. “This is only the opening move,” he murmured. “And Tom knows the game better than anyone. We cannot falter. Not once.”
The fire flared high, shadows clawing across the walls. As the council adjourned, each heir and chosen left with the weight of inevitability pressing on their shoulders.
The first countermove had been made, but the second would be theirs.

Chapter Text

The Room of Requirement had reshaped itself again, as if the castle itself recognized the gravity of what was about to unfold. The walls, carved from dark stone streaked with veins of silver, shimmered faintly in the flickering torchlight. Above them, the banners of the four ancient Houses hung like ghosts, catching the fire’s glow, drifting slowly as if stirred by unseen breath.
Hadrian stood at the head of the long oak table, eyes scanning the siblings and their chosen. His gaze lingered on each of them with measured weight. “The diary,” he said simply. “That is where we strike first.”
Hermione’s brow furrowed. “We already have it locked away. Destroying it now, openly, risks exposure. Everyone will know we’re meddling with relics older than Hogwarts itself. Some will cheer, many will fear… and a few might even turn against us.”
Draco’s lips curved in a predatory smirk. “Exactly. If Tom’s relics can be touched—broken—then the myth of his immortality begins to crumble. Fear will do the rest.”
Neville’s jaw tightened. “And if we’re wrong? If this isn’t enough? Then we’ve provoked him, and nothing in this castle can shield us from his wrath.”
Sirius, lounging beside Hadrian with the casual insolence that concealed constant readiness, added, “That’s the point. Someone has to stand up to him, or the world will keep bowing.”
Lily, hands resting on Draco’s, offered quiet certainty. “Then we make it more than destruction. We make it symbolic. Every action, every detail, should send a message: the Peverell's are not afraid. Hogwarts is not afraid.”
Hadrian’s lips curved faintly, a dark smile. “Exactly. This is not just about killing a relic. This is about announcing ourselves to the world. And making sure Tom knows he is being watched.”
***
Each sibling took their role with the inevitability of destiny: Draco, Slytherin Lord, would manage secrecy and influence. He would ensure only those chosen knew the truth of the diary’s fate and carefully craft whispers that would sow both fear and awe in Slytherin and beyond. His serpents, both literal and figurative, would patrol, inform, and intimidate.
Hermione, Ravenclaw Lady, would craft the ritual. She had spent nights pouring over ancient texts, cross-referencing long-forgotten spells, and weaving protections that could contain the diary’s power during destruction. She would ensure it ended fully, with no lingering vestiges of magic.
Neville, Gryffindor Lord, would oversee the guardians. Gryffindors were restless, brimming with courage and impetuousness. He would direct them, channeling their energy into a shield around the circle, ensuring the ritual succeeded without interference.
Hadrian, Peverell Lord, would unify all efforts. He would anchor the circle with his presence, drawing loyalty and focus from every participant. His calm determination would be the linchpin holding the precarious balance between precision and chaos.
“Each House will see itself reflected in this ritual,” Hermione murmured, tracing silver runes across parchment. “And each will understand that their heir stands unflinching. This is more than destruction; it is a statement.”
Draco’s smile lingered. “And I like statements. Especially the ones that make the weak tremble.” Hadrian’s green eyes, calm and calculating, swept over him. “Fear is a tool. Not an end.”
***
The chamber had transformed, reshaping into a vast ritual circle. Silver runes traced intricate patterns across the dark stone floor, each symbol older than Hogwarts, older than memory. The diary rested at the center, unassuming, yet radiating a pulse of malevolent energy that made the air taste sour.
Hermione’s hands moved gracefully over the runes, voice steady as she recited chants that wove old magic into protective nets. Each word carried weight, each motion precise. Severus stood at her side, grounding her with his presence, ensuring that her focus did not waver.
Draco patrolled the outer ring, wand ready, eyes like serpents’ reflecting every flicker of shadow. His serpents—creeping along the edges, whispering in a language only Slytherins could understand—kept watch, warding off any inadvertent intrusion.
Neville stood with Gryffindor students, their wands lit, their posture disciplined. He barked calm commands, directing them with the same steady assurance that had earned him quiet admiration from even the most anxious Gryffindor first-years.
Hadrian placed his hand gently on the diary. It pulsed like a heartbeat that was not its own, oily and cold under his palm. Sirius brushed his shoulder, grounding him, the tension in the room eased only slightly by that simple act.
“Ready?” Hadrian murmured. Hermione nodded, voice rising in cadence. The runes glimmered, catching fire as the circle became a prism of white-hot light.
***
Hadrian drew his wand across his palm, letting blood drip onto the diary. Instantly, the book erupted in sound—a scream that was neither sound nor silence, but something that made the air itself shiver. The pages writhed, twisting like living flesh. Shadows burst from it, reaching out with tendrils of darkness that lashed at the protective circle.
The Gryffindors flinched but held their ground, guided by Neville’s steady, commanding voice. Draco’s wards flared, slicing through tendrils with precise motions. Hermione’s spells forced the shadows inward, compressing their chaotic energy into the circle.
Hadrian’s voice, calm but commanding, rang above it all. “By the blood of Peverell, by the oath of the House, by will unbroken—I end you.”
The diary shrieked again. Pages tore themselves from the binding, ink boiling and flaking into ash. For a heartbeat, everything froze, suspended in tension so thick it seemed the world itself held its breath. Then the runes flared one final time and guttered out, leaving only faint smoke and the sharp tang of iron in the air.
Silence followed… The allies were divided. Some stared, eyes wide in awe, realizing they had witnessed the end of what many thought immortal. Others recoiled in fear, understanding the audacity of those who had performed such a feat.
Even Hermione, usually controlled, blinked repeatedly, whispering, “It’s… gone. Completely.” Draco straightened, composure perfect, though a spark of thrill glimmered in his eyes. Neville’s hands shook faintly, though his soldiers remained disciplined. Sirius grinned at Hadrian. “You wanted his attention. You’ve got it.” Hadrian pressed a hand over the ashes, feeling the lingering pulse of the destroyed diary. “Good,” he whispered.
***
Far from Hogwarts, the Dark Lord’s rage erupted. Shadows swallowed entire streets in small villages, fires erupted in markets with no cause, curses flew with indiscriminate wrath. Loyal followers fell under spells meant for enemies. Panic spread like wildfire, yet his forces dared not oppose him.
The Dark Mark burned brighter than ever in the night sky. Witnesses later described the sense of pain in the air, something primal, almost human, coursing through the magical world.
The destruction of the diary had struck at him—not just magically, but symbolically, shattering the illusion of invincibility. His followers whispered in fear, realizing that something vital had been taken from him. Something they had never dared hoped could be vulnerable.
***
Back in the chamber, the siblings regrouped. Hermione’s voice was quiet, trembling with awe. “Did you feel it? That… tearing? The way it resisted, then shattered?” Draco nodded sharply. “He felt it. Whatever he is, he knows someone just reached into his world and took control.”
Neville’s expression was grim. “This Tom… he’s weaker than the one we knew. But he’s also far more unpredictable. Less methodical, more reactive. Dangerous in ways we can’t anticipate.” Remus’s voice was low, even, carrying weight. “Unpredictability can be more dangerous than power. Keep that in mind. One mistake, one miscalculation, and it could cost us everything.”
Sirius rested his hand on Hadrian’s shoulder. “And you wanted his attention. You’ve got it. Now let him come.” Hadrian’s green eyes burned as he stared at the ashes. Calm, measured, unflinching. “Good,” he murmured. “This was the first move. He’ll react. And we’ll see just how predictable… or not… he truly is.”
The firelight flickered, shadows dancing across the walls. Outside, Hogwarts slept, unaware of the monumental shift that had just occurred. But the siblings—heirs of four ancient Houses—knew.
The game had begun, and the world would never be the same.
***
In the Slytherin common room, the news of Draco’s leadership—and the role of his serpents in the ritual—had spread like wildfire. Half of the House revered him, proud to be aligned with someone who clearly commanded respect and fear in equal measure. The other half, those who clung to old ideologies of pureblood supremacy, muttered under their breath, suspicious of the sudden consolidation of power and the audacity to challenge the Dark Lord’s supposed invincibility.
One group of Slytherins gathered in tight circles, their voices low and dangerous. “You saw it, didn’t you? Draco Thanatos Peverell-Slytherin, acting like a general, wielding our House like a weapon. But what about loyalty to bloodlines? Tradition?” One boy’s green eyes glittered with distrust.
“Tradition won’t protect us,” another hissed. “And neither will fear of Tom. Look at what he did to the diary. No one dared before, yet it’s gone. He’s watching us, yes… but we must choose carefully which side we’re on.”
Draco, aware of the murmurs through the subtle whispering magic of his serpents, didn’t confront them immediately. He watched, patient, letting the weight of his position settle over the room. Those who resisted would either fall in line—or be removed quietly, unnoticed, leaving only the loyal.
Meanwhile, in Ravenclaw Tower, Hermione stood before her House, parchments and glowing runes spread before her. She could feel the nervous energy of her peers, their curiosity and fear intertwined. Questions floated on their lips, but she held herself with calm authority, knowing that their faith in her would be tested.
“This is not a time for panic,” she said softly, letting her voice carry over the assembled students. “You are guardians of knowledge, of strategy, of wisdom. Each of you must understand that what we do is for Hogwarts, for the world, and yes, even for you.”
A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand, voice trembling. “But… Lady Peverell-Ravenclaw, if Tom reacts—if he comes here—what then? What will we do?”
Hermione’s gaze softened, but her words were steel. “Then we will act. We will follow the wards, the spells, and most importantly, we will follow the instructions we were given. Fear is natural, but it is control that defines us. Control over our magic, our actions, and our House.”
Severus, standing quietly behind her, observed the students with sharp eyes. Every hesitation, every flicker of doubt was noted, stored for future correction. “And if any of you falter, there will be guidance. Do not confuse discipline with cruelty—it is precision, nothing less.”
The students nodded, their fear tempered by understanding and Hermione’s calm conviction.
In Gryffindor, Neville’s leadership took a different form. Where Hermione offered knowledge, he offered steadiness. The Gryffindors, brimming with energy and courage, were prone to impulsiveness—but under Neville’s guidance, they found focus.
“Line up,” he barked, voice firm but measured. “Shields ready. Spells at the ready. Remember what we practiced.” A first-year trembled, wand shaking. “Sir… what if—” Neville cut him off gently but firmly. “What if you falter? Then you have someone next to you who won’t. Courage is not the absence of fear—it’s action in spite of it. Hold fast, and we will hold together.”
By the time the Gryffindors had formed their defensive circle, the rhythm of the castle itself seemed to adjust to their resolve. The wards hummed in tandem with their determination, magic responding to the pure-hearted intent that Neville inspired. Even McGonagall, observing from the sidelines, found herself taken aback by the strength and poise of her students.
***
Hadrian paced slowly, the weight of their next moves pressing down on him. Sirius followed, relaxed yet alert, keenly aware of the subtle tensions emanating from each sibling and their wards. “Do you feel it?” Hadrian murmured, eyes scanning the room. “The shift? It’s subtle, but it’s there. He’s reacting already.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, lips curling in a grin. “Oh, I feel it. It’s like the calm before a storm… and we’re the ones who lit it.” Draco, checking the perimeters, glanced at Hadrian. “How long before he notices? Before he actually—reacts in force?”
“Soon,” Hadrian replied. “But his reaction will not be measured. He’s weaker, yes, but that makes him… volatile. More dangerous than ever. And the longer we wait, the clearer the picture will become. Observation first. Strategy second. Offense only when necessary.”
Hermione nodded. “And the diary? Its destruction has already begun sending messages. Allies, enemies, those who still cling to his legend—they all feel the shockwave. The ripple.”
Neville frowned. “Ripple or wave… he may lash out in unpredictable places. Villages, allies, even Hogwarts itself. We need contingency plans.”
“Agreed,” Hadrian said, turning toward the map of magical Britain pinned to the wall. “We anticipate strikes along the fringes. We watch, we shield, we protect, and we record. Every action he takes will tell us his limits, his weaknesses, and his tendencies. Knowledge is power, and right now… it is our greatest weapon.”
The tension in the room shifted suddenly. A sharp crack echoed through the chamber, and Dobby appeared in a flurry of patched cloth and trembling limbs. His ears twitched, eyes wide and shining.
“M-Master Hadrian, sir?” His voice was uncertain, breaking with hope and fear. Hadrian’s expression softened. “Not ‘master,’ Dobby. Never that.”
The elf’s ears flattened. “No, sir! Dobby will serve only if he chooses! Dobby owes no master, only those who are worthy. Dobby chooses to serve Hadrian. Dobby will protect. Dobby will guard. Dobby will stand in the circle.”
Hadrian knelt, placing his hand at Dobby’s level. “If you serve, it’s as family. By choice. Nothing less.”
Dobby’s chest swelled. Magic flared faintly around him, subtle but powerful, a reflection of his pure-hearted loyalty. The castle itself seemed to respond, humming in quiet acknowledgment.
Hermione whispered, “That… shouldn’t be possible. An elf’s bond… that strong, voluntarily?” Hadrian only smiled. “Choice is stronger than compulsion. Dobby has proven that.”
The elf straightened, newfound pride glowing in his eyes. “Dobby will guard Hadrian. Dobby will guard Hogwarts. Dobby will guard Peverell's.”
No one doubted the truth of that oath. Not even Severus, standing silently in the corner, arms crossed, eyes sharp and assessing.
***
The silence lingered for a moment longer, heavy with the weight of what had been accomplished. Even the torches seemed to dim slightly, as if the castle itself paused to acknowledge the finality of the diary’s destruction. Then Hadrian rose fully, straightening his shoulders, letting the calm authority that radiated from him settle over the room.
“Check the wards,” he instructed, voice measured. “Make sure nothing survived the ritual.” Hermione moved immediately, wand raised, tracing the ashes with delicate sweeps, murmuring soft incantations to detect residual magic. Tiny sparks danced at her fingertips, revealing traces of shadow and despair, lingering only long enough for her to seal them in invisible barriers. “It’s contained. Nothing can escape. It’s… gone, fully gone,” she confirmed, her voice a mixture of awe and relief.
Neville stepped forward, eyes sweeping over his Gryffindor charges. “The circle remains strong. They held perfectly, even under strain.” He nodded to the young students, who straightened nervously under his gaze, realizing the weight of the task they had been a part of. “You all did well. Stand proud. You helped destroy one of the darkest tools ever made. Remember that.”
The students shifted, a murmur of excitement and fear weaving through them. Gryffindor courage had been tested, and they had not failed. In fact, many of them were trembling with pride, though none of them would dare admit how terrified they had been.
Draco’s green eyes glimmered in the torchlight, glancing over to his serpents as they coiled and whispered among themselves. “Perfect,” he said, his voice low and controlled, almost predatory. “They’ll talk. The whispers will spread. Slytherin’s respect is secured.” Lily reached for his hand, squeezing it with a quiet smile. “And our message is clear. No one underestimates us. Not now, not ever.”
Sirius, never one for formalities, leaned casually against the table, voice cutting through the stillness. “Well, if Tom has a brain at all, he knows we’ve just stepped onto his board. And the first move? Yeah… it’s brutal.” Hadrian’s eyes softened briefly as they met Sirius’s. There was trust there, but also a shared understanding of the stakes. “Brutal, yes. But calculated. That is what separates chaos from strategy.”
Severus, standing silently at Hermione’s side, let his gaze sweep the room. “Do not let yourselves be lulled into complacency by a single success,” he said, voice calm, precise. “This was a victory, yes. But do not forget the consequences. You’ve made your presence known. Now he watches. Every step must be deliberate.” Hadrian’s green eyes narrowed. “Every. Step.”
The Room of Requirement shivered, almost imperceptibly, as if acknowledging the shift in magical equilibrium. The air was thick with tension, the echo of the diary’s death lingering like smoke in the mind. Dobby hovered near Hadrian, bowing low, ears twitching.
“Dobby is honored to stand in the presence of those who protect Hogwarts,” the elf whispered, voice trembling with pride and loyalty. “Dobby will follow orders, yes… but only to do what is right.”
Hadrian placed a hand lightly on Dobby’s shoulder. “That is all anyone could ask.” He straightened, taking a deep breath. The first move had been executed perfectly—but he knew better than to celebrate. This was a war of minds, patience, and manipulation as much as it was of magic.
He walked to the edge of the circle, scanning each of his siblings. “We now must consider the consequences. The ripple has begun. Tom’s reaction will be immediate, violent, and possibly unpredictable. He will strike first at the edges—people, villages, innocents. We must anticipate, and we must control the response.”
Neville’s jaw tightened. “Then we need to mobilize. Secure the vulnerable, gather intelligence, and protect Hogwarts from potential retaliation. We cannot underestimate how much chaos he can cause, even if he’s weaker.”
Hermione’s fingers traced the air lightly, still glowing from the residual runes. “We need to prepare the wards around the castle, and the grounds, for anything. Anything at all. I’ll coordinate with Ravenclaws to create a network of alerts, enchantments that can detect magical disturbances. No one will be caught unaware.”
Severus inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes catching every flicker of movement. “I’ll handle containment strategies within the castle. Protective barriers, illusions, traps. He may not be able to break in physically, but he will attempt to manipulate or deceive.”
Draco’s serpentine smile was sharp. “I’ll ensure Slytherin remains loyal. Those with doubt will be dealt with quietly. Fear and respect in equal measure. Let’s not give him an advantage.” Lily leaned into Draco, whispering, “We do this together. All of us. No one acts alone. That’s how we survive him.” Sirius smirked. “And how we make sure he learns not to underestimate us again.”
***
Outside, the corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, but that silence was deceptive. Students shuffled nervously, whispers traveling fast among those who had glimpsed the signs of the ritual. The aura of magic, even from afar, was palpable. Ravenclaws spoke of the brilliance of the runes, the purity of the spells. Gryffindors murmured about courage and fear intertwined. Slytherins, some in awe, some in thinly veiled resentment, noted the audacity of their new Lord. Hufflepuffs, quiet and loyal, felt a surge of pride in their unexpected heir, Hadrian.
Within the Room of Requirement, Hadrian addressed them all, voice steady and commanding. “You will report everything you see. There will be no rumors, no assumptions. Only facts. Hogwarts’ safety depends on clarity and action.” The students nodded, understanding the gravity in his tone. Even young first-years felt the weight of responsibility settle over them.
Hours passed, the room a whirl of activity as preparations for Hogwarts’ defense and observation continued. Spells were woven, wards layered, and contingencies laid out with meticulous precision. The diary was gone, reduced to ash, but the space it had occupied seemed charged with latent energy, a reminder of the dark magic that had once pulsed within its pages.
Dobby, hovering near the ashes, flinched slightly as a faint, residual tremor of magic pulsed from the center. “Dobby feels… lingering anger,” he said, ears flicking nervously. “It is… alive?”
Hadrian shook his head, tone firm. “No, only residue. You’ve done well, Dobby. Keep watch. Ensure nothing lingers that shouldn’t.” Sirius chuckled, elbowing Hadrian lightly. “Leave the elf alone for a second. You’ve got the world’s attention, mate. Let him feel a little proud.”
Hadrian allowed a brief smile. It was dangerous to allow even a hint of pride, but the moment passed quickly. There was no time to linger. Outside the room, the magical world had shifted. The diary’s destruction would ripple far beyond the walls of Hogwarts.
The first tremors of that ripple arrived sooner than anyone expected. Owl posts returned with frantic messages. The magical community beyond the castle reported sudden bursts of chaotic magic: fireworks of uncontrolled curses, the inexplicable collapse of dark wards, the scattering of previously loyal Death Eaters. Panic and awe traveled like wildfire through the wizarding world.
Hadrian listened carefully as each report was read aloud, analyzing every detail, every nuance. “See?” he murmured. “Our move has shaken him. Weakness is not apparent, but instability is.” Neville frowned. “Instability is dangerous. He may lash out indiscriminately.” “Exactly,” Hadrian said. “That’s why we baited him. We forced him to reveal a flaw. Observe the response. Learn. Adapt.”
Draco crossed his arms, serpents slithering quietly at his feet. “Let’s hope our students remain steady. The less chaos inside the castle, the better we can watch him unravel.” Hermione’s hands moved in the air, tracing wards and enchantments that would alert them to the smallest disturbance. “We must also prepare contingencies for the allies outside Hogwarts. Some of them may panic or attempt independent action. That would be dangerous.”
Severus, silently observing, finally spoke. “Then we control the narrative. Hogwarts leads. The Houses lead. Anyone outside who acts without permission will face consequences. Discipline must match the threat.” Sirius’s grin widened. “Discipline. Threat. I like it. Makes life interesting.”
Hadrian’s gaze swept over all of them. “Remember, every choice we make now is visible to him. Every action, every reaction. Let’s make sure he sees only what we want him to see. The game is just beginning.”
***
Meanwhile, far from Hogwarts, in the shadows of a hidden chamber, the Dark Lord’s reaction was immediate and violent. His eyes, red and burning with fury, scanned the magical network of his followers. Screams of confusion and terror filled the air as loyal Death Eaters misfired spells, wards collapsed, and entire enclaves of loyalists succumbed to panic. “Impossible!” he hissed, voice echoing against the walls. “That… that book was untouchable!”
A loyalist knelt, trembling. “My Lord… it has been destroyed. The Peverells, sir… they dared—.” “Dared?” Voldemort’s laughter was cruel, jagged. “No. They acted. And now they will pay. Every village, every supporter, every weak link shall feel my wrath!”
Magic erupted violently around the chamber, splintering the stones and echoing into the skies. The Dark Mark flared brighter than ever, a beacon of both rage and terror, pulsating with a sense of almost human pain. Even his own followers flinched, realizing the consequences of defiance—or even failure to act.
***
Back at Hogwarts, the siblings observed the unfolding chaos through enchanted mirrors and protective crystal spheres. The ripple of the diary’s destruction had reached far and wide. Even in their stronghold, Hadrian’s jaw tightened as he noted the unpredictability of the Dark Lord’s strikes.
“He’s weak,” Neville said, voice tight. “But reckless. That’s dangerous.” Hadrian’s green eyes narrowed. “Exactly. And that is why we wait. His reactions will teach us what we need to know. Each miscalculation, each overreach… we record, we analyze, we prepare. We turn his weakness into our advantage.”
Sirius leaned against him, voice teasing but edged with steel. “That sounds almost… poetic. Watching him fall into traps of his own making.” Hadrian allowed a small smile. “Observation is not cruelty. It is survival. We survive first, then we strike. We do not rush. We control the tempo of the war.”
The day drew on, Hogwarts’ corridors still thick with tension and whispered rumors. Students in Hufflepuff, often overlooked, had been quietly observing the ritual and its aftermath. When Hadrian visited them personally, the room went silent.
“You did well,” he said, voice calm but firm, letting the weight of his approval settle over them. “Your courage, your vigilance… It matters. Never forget that.”
A young Hufflepuff, cheeks flushed with awe, whispered, “Lord Peverell… we… we saw the diary. It was… amazing.”
Hadrian’s gaze softened slightly. “Amazing, yes. But it is dangerous. Remember that magic without purpose is chaos. Your hearts are strong… let that guide your actions, but always temper it with thought. Courage alone is not enough.”
Their eyes widened, absorbing his words, the responsibility of their House made clear. Even in the quiet of Hufflepuff Tower, the ripples of the diary’s destruction had reached every corner of Hogwarts.
***
Night fell, and the siblings reconvened in the Room of Requirement. The ashes of the diary remained, contained and inert, but their minds raced ahead to the next move. “Tomorrow,” Hadrian said softly, “we observe. The world reacts. Tom reacts. And we record. This is only the beginning.”
Hermione’s hands traced the air again, still faintly glowing from residual magic. “We’ve struck a blow. But the battlefield is everywhere now. Allies, enemies, those who hesitate—they will all shape the next steps.”
Draco’s serpents twined around his arms and legs, whispering in sibilant tones. “And we will ensure that fear, respect, and control travel ahead of us. Let the weak falter before they touch us.”
Neville exhaled slowly. “And the students… they’ve seen what we’re capable of. Courage will spread, even to those uncertain. They’ll remember this moment.”
Hadrian’s gaze swept over the room, taking in his siblings, their chosen, the wards, the students, the elf—everything—and the faint pulse of magic left by the diary. “Good,” he said quietly. “Let the ripples spread. We watch. We learn. We prepare. And when he strikes… we will be ready.”
***
Outside, the wind howled through the castle grounds. Fires flickered in distant villages. Shadows moved in the forests surrounding Hogwarts. The game had begun in earnest, and every corner of the magical world now knew that the Peverells—and their allies—were no longer to be underestimated.
The Room of Requirement, as if sensing the shift, pulsed faintly in response, its walls shimmering with silver veins, banners of the Houses moving as though stirred by the breath of destiny. The diary was destroyed, the ripple was out, and the Dark Lord was watching. And the heirs of Hogwarts—four siblings, four Houses, four legacies intertwined—stood ready, unwavering.
The first counterstrike had been made, the war was no longer coming. It was already here.

Chapter Text

The Ministry of Magic had always thrived on whispers, but that morning, it roared.
Owls wheeled above Diagon Alley in a storm of parchment, bearing messages stamped with family crests that had not been seen in open conversation for generations. Gossip bloomed like fire in dry grass: the Peverells had returned.
By noon, no pureblood family in Britain could pretend ignorance. And by evening, the Wizengamot had been summoned.
***
The court of the Wizengamot was not designed for comfort. Its benches rose tier upon tier like a coliseum, carved from ancient black stone that swallowed torchlight and returned only a dim, menacing gleam. Above each seat, the crest of a family glimmered faintly — enchanted to flare only when its bloodline was present.
Today, every crest burned. House Black: the rearing stallion, ancient and terrible, House Malfoy: the silver serpent coiled in elegance, House Longbottom: the rampant lion, proud and unbowed, House Bones: the balanced scales, House Prewett, House Crouch, House Greengrass, House Nott, House Parkinson, House Rosier… a full chorus of old names, each represented by lords and ladies whose decisions would shape wars.
In the highest seat, upon a dais of marble, sat Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock. His robes were deep plum, embroidered with faint constellations. His long hands rested lightly on the carved arms of his chair, but his eyes — sharp and bright as lightning — surveyed everything.
The murmurs were a physical force. They swirled around the chamber, rising and falling, until the great doors opened. The sound echoed like a blow: boom, and the siblings entered together.
Hadrian led, clad in black robes traced with silver runes, his stride measured and inexorable. His emerald gaze swept the benches and lingered on none, as though he weighed the whole chamber and found it wanting. Beside him strode Sirius, his expression carrying both defiance and glee, as if daring the chamber to deny him.
Hermione followed, quill and parchment clutched in her hands, her hair tied back to bare the sharp lines of her face. Draco came next, immaculate as a Malfoy ought to be, though his pale hair caught the torchlight like a crown. Lily’s hand rested lightly on his arm, calm steel in her gaze. Neville brought up the rear, his movements steady, sure-footed, Remus shadowing him with quiet vigilance.
The chamber gasped. Some lords sat forward; others recoiled. For the first time in generations, the Wizengamot looked upon the Peverells.
***
Dumbledore rose, staff in hand, and rapped it once. The sound echoed like thunder, silencing all. “Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot,” he said, his voice carrying with deceptive gentleness, “we meet at a time of unrest. A Dark Lord rises in the shadows, sowing fear. Yet today we are asked to weigh another matter: the return of a family thought long gone. The Peverells.”
He gestured, and all eyes turned again to Hadrian. “You would speak for your House?” Dumbledore asked, his tone mild but his eyes unblinking.
Hadrian stepped forward. His voice rang, low and calm but commanding enough to draw the chamber into silence. “We do not ask for recognition. We demand nothing. We are Peverell by blood and by oath, and Hogwarts itself has acknowledged us. We stand not as supplicants but as heirs.”
The words landed like stones cast into still water. Ripples spread.
The new Lord Avery barked a harsh laugh. “Bold words from children. Have you proof beyond myth and dramatics?” Draco’s smirk was a blade. “Perhaps you should ask your master. He felt it keenly enough when his diary burned to ash.”
Gasps tore through the chamber. Even Dumbledore’s face tightened, his fingers gripping his staff. Abraxas Malfoy rose, voice smooth as silk. “A Horcrux,” he said softly, letting the word hang like poison. “You claim to have destroyed such a thing?”
Hermione spoke before Hadrian could. Her tone was clipped, efficient. “We do not claim. We proved it. Ask the wards that screamed when the diary fell. Ask the Aurors who tracked the disturbances. Or, if you prefer, ask your informants, Lord Malfoy.”
For the first time, Abraxas’s composure slipped — only faintly, but enough to show that she had struck home. Lord Nott leapt to his feet, robes rustling. “You play with magic beyond your understanding! You invite catastrophe! Shall we applaud as children bait a monster?”
Neville’s calm voice cut across him. “Better to fight a monster than kneel to it. Voldemort offers you no future, only chains.” The name alone drew hisses. Nott turned purple, but before he could speak, Harfang Longbottom’s cane struck the floor. “Lord Gryffindor speaks with more courage than half this chamber,” Harfang growled. “If the Peverells lead, the Longbottoms stand with them.” Augusta lifted her chin proudly. The lion crest above them flared brighter.
***
Voices rose in a storm. Edgar Bones stood, his voice calm but iron: “My Aurors bleed every day in the field. If the Peverells weaken the Dark Lord, then they are allies, not threats.” Marcus Prewett nodded sharply. “My sons will fight for them, and so shall I.” Arcturus Parkinson sputtered, red-faced: “Madness! They’ll bring ruin upon us all!”
Rosier only smirked. “Perhaps their chaos will serve. A distracted Dark Lord leaves room for ambition.” And still Abraxas Malfoy watched, silent, calculating, weighing every word like gold.
The Blacks were fire and fury. Arcturus’s gaze fixed on Sirius. “You disgrace the name of Black, boy. You dare drag it into this circus?” Sirius grinned like a wolf. “Funny, I thought I was finally doing it justice.”
***
Dumbledore once again rose. “We forget ourselves,” he said softly, though his voice carried like spellwork. “Yes, the Peverells have struck a blow. But they are young. Reckless. They do not grasp the weight of what they toy with. Shall we entrust the fate of our world to children?”
The chamber shifted, uneasy. Some nodded, grateful for his anchor. Others frowned.
Hadrian stepped forward once more, his gaze burning. “You call hesitation wisdom,” he said, his tone steady, cold. “But wisdom that counsels delay while a tyrant rises is not wisdom. It is cowardice dressed in fine robes.”
The silence was absolute. Even Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed, the twinkle gone. For a moment, the Wizengamot trembled on a knife’s edge. Tradition and fear on one side. Defiance and fury on the other.
And then Harfang raised his cane again. “I say the Peverells have the floor. Let us hear them. Judge them by deeds, not by years.” Edgar Bones rose beside him. Ignatius Prewett followed. Amelia Bones, though young, added her voice. One by one, voices joined — not all, not even most, but enough. Enough to tilt the balance.
The Peverells had entered as rumors. They stood now as contenders.
***
The chamber adjourned in a storm. Lords and ladies swept out in clusters, voices sharp and heated. Some families whispered of alliances. Others hissed of threats. At the heart of it all, Dumbledore lingered, staff resting against the dais. His gaze followed Hadrian with quiet calculation.
And Hadrian, without turning, spoke low enough that only Sirius heard. “He wanted to paint us as reckless children.” His lips curled faintly. “Instead, we showed him that children can speak the truth where old men whisper lies.” Sirius smirked. “You’ve rattled his cage. Good.”
Behind them, Hermione’s eyes gleamed, already cataloguing allies and enemies. Draco’s smirk promised plots yet to come. Neville’s jaw was set, calm and steady, as if bracing for storms.
The political game had begun. And the storm they had unleashed would not be calmed.
***
The chamber had never rung with such noise in living memory. Half the Lords leaned forward, voices sharp and hungry, already measuring what alliances might be struck. The other half recoiled in horror, as if simply being present while the word “Horcrux” was spoken might taint them.
And above it all, Dumbledore’s calm presence lingered like a weight, pressing, coaxing, waiting.
Hadrian stood perfectly still at the center dais, the runes on his robe catching the torchlight, throwing fractured shadows across the stone floor. He did not flinch under the gaze of generations of power. He let them speak, let them rage, let them reveal themselves.
This, too, was war.
The patriarch of the Blacks stood, his black robes falling like a storm cloud around him. His face was hawk-sharp, his eyes pits of cold fire. “The Peverells,” he said, his voice low, dangerous. “Once, your name was whispered alongside death itself. Now you return, dragging our House with you into scandal. My heir—” his eyes cut to Sirius, “—desecrates our crest beside you. You dare claim honor? You dare claim purpose?”
The chamber hushed. Even the most arrogant purebloods shifted uncomfortably when Arcturus Black unleashed his voice.
Hadrian met his gaze without blinking. “Honor is not given by crest or robe,” Hadrian said quietly. “It is proven by action. Tell me, Lord Black: what has your House done to halt Voldemort’s rise? What honor is there in silence while your world burns?”
A ripple went through the benches. Some gasped at the audacity. Others murmured approval. Arcturus’s hand twitched toward his wand, but stalled it.”
Sirius’s grin split his face. “Don’t worry, love,” he muttered under his breath to Hadrian. “You’ve just lit a Black family bonfire. Well done.”
Abraxas Malfoy rose next, his movements deliberate, silk robes whispering like secrets. His pale eyes gleamed with calculation. “Bold words,” he said smoothly, “but boldness does not equal wisdom. I ask: what do the Peverells seek? Recognition? Power? To place themselves at the center of a war they do not fully understand?”
Draco stepped forward before Hadrian could speak, every inch the serpent. “What do we seek?” His tone was like steel wrapped in silk. “To show this chamber that Voldemort is not untouchable. That his so-called immortality is myth. We destroyed his Horcrux. We shattered his illusion. That is not arrogance. That is proof.”
Abraxas tilted his head, intrigued despite himself. “Proof,” he repeated softly, as though savoring the word. Hermione’s quill scratched against parchment, her gaze sharp. She knew exactly what Abraxas was doing: probing, measuring, calculating whether to resist or ally. And she knew they had to hold their ground without yielding too much.
Lord Nott, gaunt and severe, surged to his feet, his voice cutting like a whip. “You meddle with forces that no wizard should touch. Horcruxes? Curses older than the Founders? You would make yourselves arbiters of life and death? No—” he jabbed a finger toward Hadrian, “—you are not saviors. You are dangerous children playing with power you cannot control. And you will drag us all into the Dark Lord’s wrath.”
Neville’s voice carried, steady and low, like the earth itself speaking. “We already live in his wrath. Hiding from it will not save you. Fighting might.” The words, simple and unadorned, landed harder than a dozen fiery speeches. Harfang Longbottom thumped his cane in approval, the sound reverberating through the chamber. “Lord Gryffindor has the right of it,” Harfang declared. “The Longbottoms will not cower. If the Peverells oppose Voldemort, then we stand with them.” Augusta lifted her chin proudly, the lion crest blazing above them.
Edgar Bones rose, his voice calm but ringing with authority. “My Aurors bleed every day on these streets. The Dark Lord’s followers grow bolder by the hour. If the Peverells weaken him, they are allies, not threats. The House of Bones will answer their call.”
Marcus Prewett followed, leaning heavily on his cane but speaking with fire. “My sons are already in the field, fighting with wand and will. If the Peverells fight too, then the Prewetts fight with them.”
The tide began to shift. The chamber, once dominated by outrage, now buzzed with possibility, and then Dumbledore rose.
His staff tapped once, twice, the sound rippling like magic. “We must temper passion with wisdom,” he said softly. His eyes swept the chamber, lingering on the younger Lords and Ladies. “Yes, these young heirs are bold. Yes, they have struck a blow. But youth is reckless. Passion can blind. And a war is not won by defiance alone.”
He paused, let the silence deepen, then asked: “Will we entrust the fate of our world to children?” It was a masterstroke — not an outright condemnation, but a seed of doubt. Many nodded, relieved to anchor themselves to his calm.
But Hadrian stepped forward, his voice colder than stone. “You call hesitation wisdom,” he said. “But wisdom that counsels inaction while tyranny rises is cowardice. We will not bow. Not to Voldemort. Not to fear. Not to you.”
Gasps tore through the chamber. Dumbledore’s face remained calm, but his eyes… dimmed. The twinkle was gone.
When the session adjourned, the chamber erupted into chaos. Allies surged toward the siblings — Edgar Bones clasping Hadrian’s forearm, Ignatius Prewett murmuring strategy, Harfang Longbottom gruffly promising support. Enemies hissed threats. Nott sneered a promise of retribution. Parkinson spat that they would rue the day. Rosier’s smirk promised dangerous curiosity more than hatred.
In the shadows, Abraxas Malfoy lingered, offering Draco a slight, knowing nod before vanishing into the crowd. And above it all, Rita Skeeter — young, sharp, quill scratching furiously — recorded everything. Her article would ignite the wizarding world by dawn.
***
In their private chamber that night, the siblings gathered. Hermione spread parchment across the table, ink stains smudging her fingers. “We counted fourteen Houses openly in our favor, eight firmly against, and the rest undecided. That is far more than I anticipated.”
Draco smirked, lounging with effortless grace. “Abraxas is weighing his move. If we can pull him, half the fence-sitters will follow. He doesn’t lead by principle, but by advantage.”
Neville folded his arms, his expression steady. “And Dumbledore? He won’t oppose us openly, but he’ll work in the shadows. The way he spoke today… he’s already planting seeds.”
Hadrian, seated at the head, tapped ash from a candle onto the floor, eyes distant but burning. “He tried to make us children.” His voice was quiet, dangerous. “We made him hesitate. That’s the first crack in his mask.” Silence followed. The weight of what they had done settled over them. Not just the diary, not just the Wizengamot, but the truth.
The storm had begun, and neither Voldemort nor Dumbledore would let them stand unchallenged.
***
The owl post arrived in a storm.
Hogwarts students woke to a flurry of newspapers dropped across the Great Hall like feathers from some great, angry bird. Every head turned toward the front page, where an enormous headline blazed in Rita Skeeter’s curling script:
“THE PEVERELLS RETURN: WIZENGAMOT SHAKEN BY DARK REVELATIONS”
Beneath it, Rita’s words burned: “Yesterday’s Wizengamot session will be remembered as one of the most tumultuous in a generation. The reemergence of the legendary House of Peverell stunned Lords and Ladies alike, but even more shocking were their claims: that the Dark Lord has achieved a form of twisted immortality through artifacts known as Horcruxes — and that one such object has already been destroyed. Lords Bones, Longbottom, and Prewett openly declared their allegiance to the Peverells. Other Houses, including Malfoy and Black, remain divided. Yet the mood of the chamber was undeniable: a storm is coming, and the name Peverell now carries both fear and hope in equal measure.”
A moving sketch of Hadrian dominated the page — tall, composed, shadows flickering across his features. Beside him, Hermione’s quill was caught mid-stroke, Draco smirking with serpent grace, Neville steady as stone. Sirius lingered at Hadrian’s side, bold and defiant.
Students crowded together, whispering furiously. Slytherins hissed among themselves, Ravenclaws speculated in nervous tones, Hufflepuffs buzzed with rumors, and Gryffindors read aloud with awe.
At the staff table, Dumbledore’s smile never wavered. But his fingers tightened, just barely, around his goblet of pumpkin juice.
In Diagon Alley, the Prophet’s headline plastered every window. Madam Malkin clutched her pearls, muttering that she hadn’t seen such uproar since Grindelwald’s duel. Flourish & Blotts displayed stacks of history tomes, already advertising “The True Story of the Peverell's?” with opportunistic glee.
In Knockturn Alley, whispers ran darker. Borgin sneered at the article, muttering about meddling brats poking where they didn’t belong. Shady figures traded galleons on bets: would the Peverells last the month?
In the Leaky Cauldron, an old wizard slammed the paper down. “If it’s true, if You-Know-Who isn’t invincible…” His voice broke into hope. The pub erupted into debate.
The wizarding world had been cracked open.
At Grimmauld Place, the air trembled with rage. Walburga’s portrait screeched so loudly the glass rattled. “DISHONOR! FILTH! CONSORTING WITH THAT BOY!” Her voice echoed through every corridor.
Arcturus Black sat in the study, his face carved from granite, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles gleamed white. “Sirius shames us,” he said at last. “The Black name is dragged into scandal. But scandal can be wielded. We will not disown him — not yet. We will watch. If the Peverells rise, we shall claim blood ties. If they fall…” His eyes darkened. “We will cut them loose.”
Behind him, Walburga raged anew, her shrieks painting the air with venom, and in a quiet room upstairs, Regulus Black stared at the article in silence, lips pressed into a thin line.
At Malfoy Manor, the atmosphere was different, cooler and calculating. Abraxas Malfoy read the article three times, every word weighed, measured. His son Lucius stood nearby, eyes sharp, already scheming. “They are dangerous,” Lucius murmured. “But opportunity lies in danger.”
Abraxas tapped the parchment with one elegant finger. “The Peverells move boldly. Too boldly, some might say. But boldness is not always folly. If they continue to undermine the Dark Lord, they may prove useful. For now, we watch. We wait. And when the board clears…” His smile was a serpent’s coil. “We strike.”
At Longbottom Hall, Harfang and Augusta raised their heads proudly. “About time,” Harfang rumbled, slamming the Prophet against the table. “The Peverells spoke true. Our House will not stand idle while the Dark Lord gathers strength.”
Augusta adjusted her vulture hat, her eyes flashing. “They're proving themselves. They carry their name with dignity.” She looked down at the moving sketch of the Prevells. For a moment, rare and quiet, her face softened.
At Bones Manor, Edgar and Amelia bent over war maps, the Prophet shoved aside but not forgotten. “We’ve just been given a weapon,” Edgar said grimly. “Proof that Voldemort isn’t untouchable. That’s hope, Amelia. We’ll rally with the Peverells — and if Dumbledore doesn’t like it, he’ll have to move aside.”
Amelia’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll take this to the Aurors. We fight smarter. Harder. Together.”
At Nott Manor, the paper burned in the fireplace. “They meddle with power beyond their right,” Lord Nott hissed, pacing like a caged wolf. “This will not stand. If the Dark Lord wills it, we will cut them down.”
At Parkinson Manor, similar venom dripped. Lady Parkinson sneered, her pearls clattering as she snapped the Prophet closed. “Children playing rulers. They’ll be dead before winter.” Their voices joined a rising chorus of hatred.
In the Headmaster’s office, silence reigned. The portraits of past headmasters dozed uneasily, as though sensing the tension in the air. Fawkes crooned softly from his perch, wings twitching. Dumbledore sat at his desk, the Prophet spread before him.
The twinkle was gone. His eyes, usually bright with humor, were shadowed with something heavier — something darker. “They move too fast,” he murmured. “Too openly. Already the world looks to them. Already they claim victories that should not be theirs.”
His hand lingered on the Elder Wand, tracing its ancient wood. “They will fracture us before Tom even rises. They will divide what I have spent decades weaving.” He closed his eyes, and for a moment the mask of geniality slipped. The weight of control — slipping, shattering, spiraling. “They must be… managed.”
***
Back in their private chambers at Hogwarts, the four siblings gathered again. The Prophet lay open on the table, Rita’s article already stained with tea rings and ink smudges.
Hermione’s lips pursed. “She paints us as larger-than-life. Useful for now — but dangerous. Expectations can kill as swiftly as curses.” Draco smirked. “Let them expect. Let them hope. Hope can be a weapon.” Neville leaned back, arms crossed. “And fear. Don’t forget fear.”
Hadrian said nothing for a long time. He simply watched the flames flicker in the hearth, shadows dancing across his face. Finally, he spoke. “We’ve cracked the world open. They can’t ignore us now. Dumbledore knows it. Voldemort will feel it. The Houses will divide over it.” He lifted his gaze, green eyes burning. “Good. Let them. The storm is here, and storms wash the rot away.”
The firelight blazed, casting the Peverells in stark relief, four shadows, four heirs, and the world beyond their chamber trembled, waiting for the next strike.

Chapter Text

The McKinnon estate sat atop a jagged rise, gray stone walls climbing like fingers into the fog that clung to the moors. Even in the dim light of early evening, the place radiated authority, the sort of presence that demanded attention without raising its voice. Bellatrix McKinnon moved through the halls with an elegance that would have been terrifying had it not been paired with a calm, measured cruelty.
Her black hair, coiled into a tight braid down her back, caught the fading light, and her eyes—sharp, calculating—swept over every servant and family member who dared cross her path. She was no longer Bellatrix Lestrange, devoted to some madman named Riddle; she was Bellatrix McKinnon, and her loyalty belonged only to herself, to her husband, and to the vast, delicate web of power she had begun to weave.
She paused before the portrait of a long-dead ancestor, crimson lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. The whispers of the past seemed to curl around her, and for a moment she allowed herself the smallest of indulgences: the satisfaction of being, finally, untethered. Untethered and dangerous.
From the hearth, a servant approached timidly, bowing low. “My lady, the visitors have arrived.”
Bellatrix did not turn. Her voice was low, precise, and entirely free of hesitation. “Let them wait. If they cannot respect the weight of this room, they do not deserve the knowledge they seek.”
The servant left, and Bellatrix’s gaze fell on a small, velvet-lined box resting atop a carved mahogany table. It was a curiosity, a relic of her family’s collection—or so it had been called. Only she knew its true significance: the object had been passed to her from the Evans line, whispered through old letters and hints of debt owed. Hufflepuff’s Cup, a legendary artifact of immeasurable power, lay quietly beneath her fingertips, its very presence a challenge to the world beyond these walls.
She let her fingers brush the surface, just lightly enough to feel its pulse, and then retracted them. Power was a dangerous thing, even in neutral hands. She would not wield it recklessly; she would make the world come to her.
***
Far from the moors, Hogwarts Castle seemed almost oblivious to the movements of a single house bound by blood and cunning. In the corridors, whispers swirled like wind-blown leaves. Even at this hour, students crowded around the portraits, gossiping in hushed tones. The Marauder-era Hogwarts was alive with curiosity, suspicion, and the excitement of the unknown.
“Did you hear?” one Hufflepuff whispered, tugging at the sleeve of a first-year. “They say the Peverells destroyed a Horcrux. Right here in the castle!”
“I don’t know if it’s true,” another replied, eyes wide, leaning closer. “But everyone’s saying it. Even the portraits are buzzing.”
From the upper balconies, Ravenclaws observed with cautious interest. Their Lady—Hermione—was not present, but the rumor had reached them through scraps of overheard conversation and silent gestures from House ghosts. Their curiosity was tempered by fear: the Peverells were young, yes, but their actions carried weight beyond any student’s understanding.
Meanwhile, Gryffindors huddled around Neville’s words from the previous council, their eyes bright with the promise of action. The tale of the diary’s destruction had given them a new courage, a dangerous kind of hope. McGonagall, passing through the hall, noted the uncharacteristic fire in their eyes and paused, hands folded, observing quietly. She saw leadership forming not from experience but from necessity. Neville, by all accounts, had become more than a student—he was a lodestar.
Even Slughorn, in his common room, sipped at a fine cordial with a calculating smile. The whispers of Draco’s influence reached him quickly. Half the Slytherins adored the new Lord, the other half bristled under the shadows of old ideology. He noted every reaction, every glance exchanged, every hushed word. This era would be shaped not by headmasters or decrees, but by the subtle sway of ambition and blood.
Dumbledore, from his high tower, observed all. His fingers rested on the carved desk in his office, a slight frown creasing his brow. He did not interfere—yet—but he weighed every movement, every rumor, every frightened or excited glance from the students below. The Peverells’ reach was growing, and he knew, as all who understood power eventually do, that unchecked influence could blossom into chaos if not carefully watched.
Back in the heart of Hogwarts, the Hufflepuff common room murmured with nervous energy. Candles flickered, their light casting dancing shadows on anxious faces. Rumors of Bellatrix McKinnon’s marriage had reached even here, mingling with tales of her possession of a relic.
“I heard it’s Hufflepuff’s Cup,” one student whispered. Her hands shook slightly as she clutched a mug of warm tea. “They say she married Malcolm McKinnon to protect it… or to hide it… or something.”
“Do you think it’s true?” another asked, eyes wide, voice barely above a breath.
“Who knows?” the first replied. “But if it is… that woman isn’t following Riddle. She’s… dangerous. And she has something that belongs to our House.”
Even the ghosts lingered in corners, whispering to each other about the strange currents moving through the castle. The Fat Friar floated near the hearth, his robes fluttering as he listened, sighing softly. “Young hearts,” he murmured. “So eager to whisper and speculate. Yet the world outside these walls is far more complicated.”
***
In the Room of Requirement, the siblings had gathered. The chamber reshaped itself into a strategy hall, dark stone and silver veins echoing the weight of their plans. Hadrian stood at the head of the table, eyes scanning the parchment and maps spread before him. Sirius leaned against a column, casual as ever, yet every muscle was coiled with readiness. Remus and Severus flanked their respective partners, each silent, each calculating.
Hermione traced silver runes across a map, marking the known territories of neutral houses, potential allies, and pockets of loyalist resistance. Draco leaned close, whispering to Lily in a tone that was half amusement, half calculation. Neville’s hands rested on the edge of the table, grounding himself, grounding the Gryffindor energy that would carry through the circle.
“The Cup,” Hadrian began, voice low but carrying weight, “is in play. Bellatrix McKinnon now possesses it, and her marriage places it beyond direct reach. We cannot storm her estate—it would be reckless. We will need intelligence, subtlety, and allies we can trust.”
Hermione nodded, eyes sharp. “The McKinnons are Grey. Their allegiance has always leaned light, but they are cautious. Bellatrix alone controls access. Even if we have friends in the house, she would know of any attempt to retrieve it immediately.”
Draco’s smile was faint but dangerous. “Perfect. A challenge worthy of us. And imagine the chaos we can sow if even the whisper of a strike reaches her ears.” Sirius chuckled softly. “Just remember, it’s not about chaos. It’s about leverage. Every step we take must corner her without showing our hand.”
Neville’s voice was calm, steady. “And Hogwarts. We can’t ignore the students. They are already caught in the ripples of our actions. If we move too openly, fear will spread faster than control.”
Severus, silent until now, added in a quiet, precise tone, “Information is our sharpest weapon. Every whisper, every glance, every portrait that notices something—these are threads. Pull one wrong, and the tapestry unravels.”
***
At the library, Hermione and Draco had already begun subtle inquiries. Hermione poured over texts, cross-referencing letters, wills, and journals. Draco spoke softly with house-elves and quietly tested the loyalty of minor Slytherin families. Together, they began constructing a map of influence, alliances, and vulnerabilities — the first layer of a plan that would take years to execute fully, but had to start now.
Even at this stage, small failures could be catastrophic. Bellatrix was no idiot, and her eyes were everywhere. The Peverells knew that. They also knew that only careful, deliberate steps could lead them to the Cup without triggering Voldemort’s attention prematurely.
The house's tension built quietly, like the slow tightening of a bowstring. Hogwarts students continued to murmur in hallways and common rooms, professors observed silently from alcoves, and Bellatrix McKinnon, far away, walked the halls of her estate as though each step carried the weight of the future itself.
***
Hadrian stood at the center of the Room of Requirement, hand brushing the edge of the map, eyes closed for a heartbeat as he imagined the threads of power stretching outward, toward Bellatrix, toward the students, toward the very edges of wizarding society. He opened his eyes. The siblings watched him, ready, loyal, and dangerous in their own ways.
“Every House has its part,” he said finally. “Every whisper, every eye, every hand. We move carefully, or we lose more than the Cup. Understood?” The siblings murmured their agreement. Sirius gave a lopsided grin. “Understood, boss. Let’s see if Bellatrix is ready for what comes next.”
Outside, Hogwarts settled into the twilight, unaware of the intricate game being played beneath its roof, unaware that the next move in a centuries-old struggle was already underway. The Cup’s trail had been sighted, and the hunt had begun.
***
Bellatrix McKinnon stood in the gray halls of the McKinnon estate, the Hufflepuff Cup resting lightly in her palm. Her fingers traced the ornate engravings as though she were memorizing them, committing every groove and curve to memory. Unlike the Bellatrix who would have followed Riddle blindly, this Bellatrix had chosen differently. Married to Malcolm McKinnon, her life was a careful balance of Grey pragmatism and a lingering ambition, tempered by the occasional lean toward the Light.
Her eyes flicked to the windows, where the night pressed in, black and complete. Rumors had reached her—whispers of movements in Hogwarts, shadows among students, the subtle orchestration of unseen forces. She smiled, sharp and precise. “So they think to touch it,” she whispered, her voice carrying a note of amusement and calculation. “Let them try. Let them see that Bellatrix McKinnon does not bend to fear, nor to legends. I am not their enemy, not yet. But I am no fool.”
From the estate, her eyes panned across the landscape. But over winding forests, quiet villages, and the sleeping spires of Hogwarts plans were being made. The castle seemed alive, as though it anticipated the coming storm. Lights flickered in corridors, shadows stretched unnaturally long, and the ever-present hum of magic pulsed faintly beneath the stone floors.
Inside Hogwarts, the Room of Requirement had reshaped itself into a war room, vast and shadowed, lined with maps, parchments, and floating candles that flickered against the silver-veined stone. At the center, the long oak table held the siblings and their chosen: Hadrian with Sirius, Hermione with Severus, Draco with Lily, Neville with Remus. Every presence exuded purpose, authority, and controlled intensity.
Hadrian’s green eyes scanned the table. “The Cup is in Bellatrix McKinnon’s hands,” he said. “Her marriage to the McKinnons complicates matters, but also offers opportunity. Grey blood, Light leanings, independent loyalty—she is predictable in her unpredictability.”
Draco leaned forward, fingers steepled. “She values pragmatism over legend. If we present her with leverage… subtle yet undeniable… we may bend her, or at least delay her interference.”
Hermione traced silver runes over parchment. “We need absolute intelligence. Every passage, every servant, every guest must be accounted for. Subtlety is key—any misstep will alert her, or worse, Voldemort.”
Neville’s jaw tightened as he looked over a group of Hufflepuff students behind him. “They’re ready to assist. Observation, reporting, subtle monitoring. Hogwarts itself can be our eyes and ears. But the students must never know the full picture. Only what they need.”
Remus added calmly, “The Gryffindors will manage protection. Any exposure must be handled quietly, efficiently. Panic is our enemy.”
Sirius leaned casually against the table. “We train the students to think it’s routine, mundane. Exercises, patrols, observation—but every move is guided. They become shadows.”
Hadrian’s gaze swept over the assembled siblings and their partners. “Exactly. Hogwarts becomes a network—every corridor, every portrait, every whisper. We observe, we gather, we act when the moment is precise.”
Severus, arms crossed, observed silently. “And Bellatrix? She is sharp, prideful, and ruthless. One misstep and she alerts the wrong people—or herself. We must anticipate instinct, not just action.”
Hermione’s eyes glimmered. “The wards will be precise, subtle, protective. The Cup is dangerous. Mishandling it could unleash consequences beyond our control.” Draco’s smirk returned. “And the rumors, the whispers we plant, will occupy her attention. We move while she is distracted. Timing is everything.”
Lily nodded, fingers tightening over Draco’s. “Bellatrix will fight for it. But if we are precise, swift, coordinated, we can extract the Cup—or at least control its movements—without bloodshed.”
Hadrian leaned forward, hands on the table. “Hermione and Draco lead intelligence and subterfuge. Neville and Remus manage student deployment and security. Sirius and I monitor and intervene directly if necessary. Objectives are clear: observe, secure, and extract the Cup without alerting Voldemort. Every other concern is secondary.”
***
The corridors of Hogwarts were alive with quiet, deliberate movements. Students—Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Slytherins—moved in patterns guided by unseen hands. Patrols, observations, false errands, whispered messages—every action built the network of eyes and ears the siblings required. Professors watched carefully, some aware of the subtle orchestration, some unsure of what stirred beneath their noses.
McGonagall oversaw Gryffindor patrols with an eagle eye, nodding at Neville’s careful instructions. “They are disciplined,” she murmured to herself. “And yet… the scale of this… extraordinary.”
Snape, observing from the shadows, frowned deeply. “Hermione Hel Peverell-Ravenclaw,” he muttered. “The precision, the power… reckless, and yet… brilliant.”
Even Dumbledore’s expression betrayed tension as he traced magical currents through the castle. He sensed the Peverells’ orchestration, the unprecedented mobilization of students, and the subtle manipulations that threaded every movement.
Under Draco and Hermione’s guidance, small teams of students infiltrated shadowed corridors, quietly noting the layout of the McKinnon estate as detailed in enchanted maps. Hufflepuffs, trained by Hadrian, kept watch from windows, stairwells, and the edges of the castle grounds, reporting every unusual movement. Gryffindors, under Remus, created disciplined patrols to ensure no interference from the castle’s usual denizens.
Each student believed they were participating in a mundane, yet important, exercise—yet each action contributed to a complex web of surveillance and control. The Room of Requirement pulsed in the background, reflecting the tension, amplifying focus, and ensuring that no action went unseen.
***
Back in the McKinnon estate, Bellatrix sensed it—the subtle shift in magical currents, the presence of unseen observers. Her sharp eyes and keen instincts did not miss the pattern, though she could not yet trace its source. Smiling faintly, she whispered, “So, they approach. Shadows in my world. Let them try. I will not be taken unaware.”
Her fingers tightened around the Cup, a small spark of magic flaring in instinctual defense. She would fight if necessary, yet the game itself intrigued her—these young orchestrators, these Peverell siblings, daring to manipulate the world before her eyes.
***
Far beyond the McKinnon estate and Hogwarts, the pulse of Voldemort’s awareness stirred. The destruction of the diary had left him raw, unbalanced, yet his perception reached across distances, touching the threads of the Peverells’ movement. Though unaware of every detail, he sensed the web forming, and the stirring of power that dared to challenge him.
One thought consumed him: The game has begun.
***
In the Room of Requirement, Hadrian’s gaze swept over the assembled siblings, students, and partners. “The Cup’s trail has been found,” he said. “Every movement is calculated. Every observer is positioned. And yet…” He paused, voice dropping, green eyes gleaming. “We have only begun. Bellatrix McKinnon is clever. She is dangerous. But we are precise. We are patient. And we will win.”
Candles flickered as shadows danced across the walls, whispering of the coming storm. Outside, the night pressed against the castle, quiet but alive. Hogwarts itself seemed to hold its breath.
The Cup’s trail had been set. The players were moving. The first whispers of a storm had begun. And the game—older than Hogwarts, older than any living wizard—was far from over.

Chapter Text

The moon hung low over the Scottish Highlands, a silver sentinel surveying the estate of Malcolm McKinnon. Its light caught the black spires of the mansion, glinting faintly off stone gargoyles perched like sentinels of a forgotten age. Bellatrix McKinnon, formerly Lestrange, moved along the balcony, the hem of her dark gown fluttering against the night wind. She did not follow Voldemort. She never had. Her marriage to Malcolm, a Grey aligned occasionally with the Light, had demanded pragmatism, and her loyalty now was to her household, to her husband, and to the careful maintenance of power.
Yet her gaze betrayed amusement, the corners of her mouth tilted with sharp, calculating humor. “The Peverell's,” she whispered to herself, “so bold, so reckless, and yet… so clever.” She traced a gloved hand along the cold stone railing. “They believe they can steal from me.”
Inside the mansion, firelight flickered in long corridors, shadows twisting with the crackle. Wards, both old and fresh, hummed softly. Every window shimmered with protective glamour; every doorway bristled with spells designed to repel or misdirect. Bellatrix had spent days weaving enchantments both visible and invisible, a lattice of deception across the estate. And yet she knew the Peverell's would come.
***
Meanwhile, far to the south, Hogwarts simmered with tension. Hadrian Peverell moved through Dumbledore’s office, the stone walls alive with shadows thrown by the fireplace. He kept his wand concealed, knowing full well that the Headmaster’s eyes tracked him like twin hawks. Albus Dumbledore, seated behind the massive oak desk, did not rise. His hands folded neatly atop one another, the half-moon glasses perched on his nose catching the firelight.
“Hadrian,” Dumbledore began, his voice smooth, deceptively calm, “you understand the delicacy of the situation. The Ministry watches, the Houses watch, and you are… young to assume the responsibilities you have.”
Hadrian’s gaze was calm, measured. “I understand perfectly,” he said. “And yet I also understand that words without action are worthless. We all know why we are here.” He gestured, subtle, but enough to make the space between them taut with expectation.
Dumbledore’s lips curved faintly, an expression somewhere between a smile and a warning. “And yet, sometimes, young lord, action can be… perilous. A single misstep can unravel not only your intentions, but the very protections Hogwarts relies upon.”
Hadrian leaned forward slightly, resting a hand on the desk’s edge. Green eyes, calm but intense, locked with the older man’s. “I will not be used, and I will not allow my family to be used. Not by you, not by anyone.” His tone carried the weight of command, not arrogance, and it cut cleanly through the warmth of the fire.
Dumbledore’s eyes flickered, subtle recognition of a mind that mirrored his own — a chessmaster, calculating, patient, lethal in patience. “I see,” he murmured. “And yet, one must wonder… can you bear the consequences of such independence?”
***
Outside the castle, the Peverell's’ allies approached the McKinnon estate under a night draped in mist. Hermione and Draco moved at the forefront, each step measured, every motion carefully calculated to bypass wards. Neville, with a cadre of Gryffindor students, held their line of retreat. Remus shadowed him, eyes sharp, alert to the faintest magical disturbances. Sirius stayed close to Hadrian, safe in the castle.
The first wards responded immediately. Ghostly runes flashed along the exterior walls, splintering the night with a soft, metallic hum. Hermione whispered incantations, her wand tracing delicate arcs through the air. The runes bent, twisted, then yielded, acknowledging her command. Draco’s serpents slithered along the shadows of the estate, both real and conjured, patrolling, observing, ready to strike.
Inside the estate, Bellatrix watched the magical countermeasures manifest. Her laughter, low and sharp, carried like a knife. “Clever, aren’t they?” she murmured. “But no cleverness can match anticipation.” Her hands moved in delicate patterns, and the wards flared, responding to the subtle pressure of her will.
***
Hadrian, in Dumbledore’s office, felt the subtle tremor in magical currents as the Peverell's executed their maneuver. “They’re testing me,” he murmured to Sirius, who had drawn back slightly to observe. “Every move is calculated, every step a signal. And yet…” he let the words hang. “They will succeed.”
Dumbledore’s eyes, too, caught the tremor. For the first time, a shadow crossed his face — a recognition that the children of the Peverell bloodline operated on a scale beyond what he had anticipated. He rose, straightening in his chair, the firelight catching the edge of the half-moon glasses like a blade. “You move pieces too quickly,” he said softly. “One misstep, and the game collapses.”
***
At the McKinnon estate, the siblings encountered the inner vault — a chamber alive with enchantments. The air hummed, electric with residual magic from generations of protective spells. Hermione took a deep breath, her wand extending as her fingers traced patterns in the air. Draco’s eyes scanned every corner, and Bellatrix’s presence felt almost tangible, her aura coiling like a serpent in the shadows.
“Do you feel it?” Hermione whispered. “The Cup… it’s alive with intent. Guarded, aware, almost… sentient.” Draco’s nod was subtle. “And she knows we are here. Watch out!”
Bellatrix emerged from shadow, her eyes glinting like shards of obsidian. “Bold,” she purred, “but not enough.” Her wand raised slightly, just enough to indicate control, yet she made no threatening gesture — a dangerous balance.
Neville directed the Gryffindor students, keeping them steady as wards screamed, trying to throw them off balance. Remus mirrored his movements, adding subtle enchantments to protect the line, counteracting the estate’s defenses. Every heartbeat stretched longer, every breath heavier.
***
Back in Dumbledore’s office, the conversation had shifted. The older man leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “You are acting with foresight, Hadrian, but even foresight has its limits. There is a danger in arrogance, in believing that the past can be rewritten without cost.”
Hadrian’s voice was steady, each word deliberate. “Arrogance is assuming one has no responsibility. We act because we must. Every decision, every risk, has been measured. Not one of us acts without consideration for consequence.”
***
A flicker in the air signaled the breach at the estate, Hermione’s ritual had begun. Silver runes flared across the vault floor, intricate patterns weaving a lattice of control around the Cup. Draco’s serpents reacted instantly, shifting into position, sensing every pulse of malevolent energy.
Bellatrix’s lips curved. “They learn quickly. But not fast enough.” She flicked her wand, sending counter-signals into the wards. The room shifted, the floor beneath the Cup humming like a living thing.
Neville barked orders, directing students in a protective circle. Sparks of magic arced and collided with wards, twisting the night into brilliance and shadow. Remus moved silently among them, correcting trajectory, ensuring that every spell held true.
At the climax of the ritual, Hadrian’s voice resonated in the corridors of Hogwarts, faint but carried across magical threads. “We act with purpose. With focus. With unbroken will.” Sirius brushed his shoulder for reassurance, though his eyes never left the magical tremors.
The Cup reacted violently. The air grew thick with electricity, the metal inside it seeming to writhe. Hermione whispered the final incantation, her voice unwavering despite the hiss of released magic. Draco’s serpents hissed, intertwining with the runes, anchoring the energy. Bellatrix’s aura coiled tighter, but she made no move — she was a witness, a judge.
***
At Dumbledore’s office, the older man felt the pulse, the ripple of raw magical force. His eyes narrowed. “They’ve done it,” he murmured, almost to himself. He rose, wand in hand, fingers twitching — but he did not move against them. Instead, he watched. The Peverells were no longer pieces; they were players.
***
Back at the estate, a final surge of energy erupted as Hermione completed the ritual. The Cup trembled, then settled, inert but glowing faintly with residual power. Neville exhaled sharply, lowering his wand. Remus mirrored him. Bellatrix’s eyes glinted with respect, though her lips remained tight. “Clever,” she said softly.
Hadrian, sensing the final pulse, allowed himself a rare, faint smile. “The first move is complete. He will notice, and he will react. Now we see the board in motion.”
The night air was calm again, though the tension lingered like a scent. Hogwarts slept, the Peverells had succeeded, but the game had only begun. Dumbledore’s mind raced with the implications. Bellatrix returned to her shadowed tower, contemplating how much of this had been a test, and how much had been victory.
***
The siblings regrouped, each aware of the cost, the risk, and the exhilaration. They had stolen from the past, struck against a legend, and survived. Voldemort, wherever he stirred, felt the void where the Cup had been. A scream, distant and psychic, spread across magical Britain.
Hadrian’s voice was quiet but firm. “The world knows now. The pieces are set. And we… we are ready.” Sirius, his grin faint but assured, gave a low whistle. “Ready for what comes next, I hope?”
Hadrian’s green eyes glinted in the dim light. “We have no choice but to be. This is only the beginning.”
Outside, the moon carved silver paths across the Highlands, witness to a war that had quietly begun — and Hogwarts, McKinnon estate, and every shadowed corner of the magical world would never be the same again.

Chapter Text

The tower was quiet when Dorcas Meadowes climbed the last spiral of stone, her breath ghosting in the cold air. Ravenclaw’s tower always seemed to hum faintly, like the walls themselves whispered riddles only the worthy could hear. She touched the bronze eagle knocker, whispered her answer, and stepped inside.
She didn’t linger. The common room’s blue fire painted long shadows, but she moved quickly, her robes whispering against the stone. She wasn’t here for sleep or study. She was here for choice.
Dumbledore had asked nothing of her. Not directly. But she had seen the signs—his watchful eyes at meals, the way he lingered in corridors, the faint tension that coiled tighter with each day the so-called Peverell siblings gathered strength. Dorcas loved Hogwarts. She loved its balance, its rules, its promise that the clever and hardworking could rise. And what Hadrian and his siblings were doing—splitting Houses, demanding loyalty—was dangerous.
She told herself she wasn’t betraying students. She was protecting the school.
The gargoyle leapt aside when she whispered the word. The spiral staircase carried her up, each step heavier than the last, until she stood before the oaken door of the Headmaster’s office.
“Enter,” came the voice, already waiting.
Dumbledore was alone, quill laid aside. Fawkes dozed on his perch, a jewel of fire against the gloom. Dorcas stepped inside, pulse hammering.
“You wished to see me, Headmaster?”
Dumbledore’s eyes flickered—blue, too bright, cutting through the shadows. “It seems, Miss Meadowes, that you wished to see me.”
Her mouth went dry. She forced herself to stand straighter. “They’re dividing us. The Peverells. They’ve taken students into secret councils, whispered oaths… Neville Peverell trains Gryffindors like soldiers. Draco Peverell draws half the snakes into his orbit. And Ravenclaws—Hermione Peverell—she asks too many questions. She builds something here, under your nose.”
Dumbledore’s face gave nothing away. Only his fingers, steepled together, betrayed the faintest tension.
“And you, Dorcas,” he murmured. “Where do you stand?”
The words burst out of her before she could stop them. “With Hogwarts. With you.”
The silence stretched. Then, softly: “Loyalty is a powerful gift. One not freely given.” His eyes sharpened. “But you must know, Dorcas—once spoken, such loyalty cannot be taken back. You will be my eyes. My truth, when others are blinded by charm and shadows. Do you accept this burden?”
Her throat tightened. But she nodded. “Yes.”
Something in Dumbledore’s posture relaxed. “Then watch. Listen. And when you hear their secrets, bring them to me.”
Dorcas bowed her head. When she left, the fire in Fawkes’s feathers caught her eye—a reminder that loyalty could burn, if held too close.
***
Hadrian knew the moment it happened. Not the words spoken, nor the door opening to Dumbledore’s office—but the ripple. Magic had always bent around him strangely since the time-shift, like a pond disturbed by a stone. That night, as he stood alone in the Astronomy Tower, he felt the ripple shiver through the castle.
Betrayal.
He didn’t know who. Not yet. But someone had tipped the scales.
Below, Hogwarts glimmered under moonlight. Lanterns dotted the grounds, faint and few. But Hadrian’s gaze lingered on the castle itself—the windows that flickered with lives, choices, loyalties. One of those lights had just gone out, though no one else would notice yet.
“Hadrian?” Neville’s voice. He turned, finding his brother striding across the cold stones. Neville’s cloak flared in the wind, his jaw set. “You felt it too.”
Hadrian nodded once. Neville’s fists clenched. “Then tomorrow, we test them. No more half-measures. If they’re loyal, they’ll show it. If not…” His voice trailed into silence, hard and grim.
Hadrian didn’t answer. His eyes lingered on the stars, the endless black. Somewhere beyond, Tom Riddle’s rage coiled tighter. Somewhere else, Dumbledore smiled, his net already spreading. And inside, a single Ravenclaw girl told herself she wasn’t a traitor.
She was simply loyal.
***
The Gryffindor common room was louder than usual, flames roaring in the hearth as nearly the entire House gathered. First-years huddled together on armchairs, fourth-years leaned against the wall, and the older students filled the center space, eyes fixed on Neville Peverell.
He stood straight-backed before them, wand in hand—not the shy boy who had once stumbled over charms, but a leader. The firelight painted his face in bronze and gold, and even McGonagall, watching discreetly from the stairs above, felt her breath catch at the transformation.
“You all feel it,” Neville said, his voice steady. “Hogwarts is splitting. Dumbledore watches us. Voldemort is out there. And here—” he tapped his chest, “—we have to decide what we stand for. I won’t force anyone. But I’ll tell you this: Gryffindor is not a House that hides. We fight. We protect. We endure.”
A murmur rose, uncertain, but then Alice Fortescue stepped forward. “I’ll train,” she said firmly. “I’ll stand with you, Neville.” Marlene McKinnon followed, fire in her eyes. “Me too. If we wait, we die stupid. I’d rather fight prepared.” Fabian and Gideon Prewett exchanged a glance, then grinned. “Well, we can’t let Peverell here steal the glory, can we?”
The room shifted—murmurs hardened into nods, then voices. Almost all came forward.
McGonagall, in the shadows, pressed her lips together. She should stop this. She should. But she didn’t. She saw in Neville a steadiness Hogwarts needed. So she turned and slipped away, robes whispering, her heart caught between pride and fear.
***
In the dungeons, Draco Malfoy sat in a green-glass haze of the common room, Regulus Black across from him. Their voices were quiet, but every ear nearby strained to listen. “You’ve seen it,” Draco murmured. “The old ways are crumbling. Half the purebloods cling to their fathers’ shadows, the rest wait to see who rises first.” Regulus’s face was sharp, thoughtful. “And you want me to rise with you?”
“I want Slytherin to survive,” Draco replied coolly. “Hadrian carries power. Hermione carries wisdom. Neville carries heart. But us—” his silver eyes caught Regulus’s, “—we carry ambition. If you’re with me, we shape this House. If you’re against me, you’ll be left in dust.”
Across the room, Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. whispered, clearly wavering. Some of the older blood looked furious—change was weakness, and weakness was death. But others… others leaned forward, hungry for what Draco offered.
Regulus leaned back at last, lips curving. “Very well. Slytherin will follow you. At least, the part that matters.”
***
Ravenclaw Tower was colder than usual, and Hermione Granger felt it in her bones. She paced slowly before the gathered students, Dorcas Meadowes among them, her expression unreadable.
“I don’t ask for oaths,” Hermione said carefully. “I ask for clarity. The world is shifting, and Ravenclaws cannot afford to hide in riddles. Knowledge is power, yes—but only if wielded. If you would stand with us, you must be ready to act.”
A few nodded—Pandora Lovegood, eyes bright with curiosity; two younger students eager for belonging. But others hesitated. And Dorcas—Dorcas tilted her head, lips pursed as if in thought, but her mind was already elsewhere.
Hermione saw it. Something guarded in her. Something was wrong. She didn’t press. Not yet. But as she dismissed the group, her eyes followed Dorcas to the door. Later, alone, she whispered to herself: One of them has already slipped away.
***
Hadrian had chosen to walk among the Hufflepuffs himself. The cellar common room was warm with earth and spice, the smell of baked bread clinging to the walls.
Edgar Bones stood before him, wand in hand, flanked by Amelia. “We’ve heard the whispers,” Edgar said plainly. “That you’re dividing Houses. That Dumbledore grows restless. That Voldemort stirs.”
“And what do you believe?” Hadrian asked.
Edgar glanced at his sister. Amelia’s voice was sharp. “We believe Hogwarts isn’t safe unless someone makes it safe. And we believe that’s not Dumbledore anymore.”
One by one, wands lifted. Hufflepuffs were not dramatic, not loud. But their loyalty was iron. And in that cellar, Hadrian felt it—an anchor.
“You’ll have us,” Edgar said simply. “All of us.”
Hadrian bowed his head in respect.
***
Not all went unseen.
Slughorn poured himself wine that evening, pretending not to notice his Slytherins whispering. His eyes flickered with both pride and fear—ambition he had fostered was now slipping beyond his grasp.
Flitwick watched Hermione with quiet admiration, though worry creased his brow. Knowledge was power, yes—but children wielding such power was perilous.
And McGonagall, seated alone in her office, stared into the fire. She had seen Neville’s rally, seen Gryffindor’s fire catch. She knew Dumbledore would not approve. Yet part of her whispered: perhaps the Headmaster no longer understood the cost.
***
The moon hung high over Hogwarts, pale light spilling across the stone courtyards, glinting on frost that had settled overnight. Inside, the castle was restless. Whispers ran along corridors, small shuffles in dormitories, the soft, anxious murmur of students aware that their world was changing and that the Peverells were at its center.
Dorcas Meadowes waited in the shadowed corner of the Ravenclaw common room, quill in hand, parchment hidden beneath her robes. She lingered, watching Hermione rally her House, gauging reactions, noting expressions, measuring allegiance. And now, the decision had been made.
One word. One simple word that would ripple across Hogwarts like poison in water.
She scribed it quickly, the message carrying with it subtle enchantments to avoid interception, then disappeared into a secret passage leading to the office of the Transfiguration Professor. Minerva McGonagall looked up from her desk, surprised. “Dorcas? What is it—”
Dorcas’s lips curved faintly. “Information you might want to pass along to the Headmaster,” she said softly, bowing her head. “About the Peverells. About what they’re building… and the students who follow them.”
McGonagall’s hands trembled slightly as she accepted the parchment. She had suspected fractures in loyalty, but the depth of it, and the betrayal from within a house that prided itself on intellect… it struck her cold.
Dorcas was gone before McGonagall could form another word.
***
Meanwhile, in Gryffindor Tower, Neville paced before the gathered students, his green eyes scanning the crowd. “Tonight, you’ve proven your courage. You’ve sworn to protect your House, to protect Hogwarts. And yet,” he said, voice rising, echoing off the stone walls, “loyalty is tested when it is hardest. Remember that. Anyone who falters—anyone who betrays what we’ve built—will know the consequences.”
The students nodded, fists clenching, eyes bright. Alice Fortescue, seated on the edge of a table, leaned forward. “Neville, we’d follow you anywhere,” she said quietly.
He allowed himself a small, tight-lipped smile. “Good. That is all I ask. Watch each other. Trust carefully.”
In the shadows, Remus Lupin observed. Silent, calm, assessing each face. He could see who would falter under pressure, who had courage, and who had heart. Gryffindor’s fire had been rekindled, and it would burn in defiance of fear.
***
Down in the dungeons, Draco Peverell moved among his House, serpents whispering along the stone floor, curling around columns and twisting in green-light glimmers. He noted hesitation in some older students—Silvanus, a young heir who had been too ambitious for his own good, kept glancing toward the portrait hole as though ready to flee.
“You’ve seen the Gryffindor display,” Draco said quietly to Regulus Black, eyes narrowing. “Bold. But reckless. Their hearts are pure, yes… but we are precise.”

Regulus nodded, catching the nuance. “And Dorcas Meadowes?” he asked softly.
Draco’s lips curved. “We’ll watch. Nothing escapes unnoticed. If she falters, we act before anyone else can react.”
***
In the Hufflepuff common room, Hadrian sat with Edgar Bones, Amelia, and a small circle of students he had personally vetted. They listened as he spoke, voice calm but firm.
“Loyalty has a price,” Hadrian said, letting each word sink. “Not in gold, not in glory. In choice. You follow because you believe, not because you fear. And if you falter—know that I see it. I will not punish out of anger, only as necessity demands. Loyalty is tested, and we are about to test it.”
The students’ hands hovered over their wands, nodding. Each knew the weight of what had been entrusted. Each knew the difference between weakness and will.
Sirius, leaning casually against the wall, added with a grin, “And if you survive the test, you’ll be stronger than you ever imagined. Trust me.”
A quiet chuckle rippled through the group, tension easing only slightly.
***
Hadrian moved silently through the castle, shadows stretching along him like an extension of his presence. He observed: The Gryffindors standing tall, fists clenched, eyes bright with conviction. The Slytherins circling each other, serpents whispering, students’ loyalties balanced on a knife’s edge. The Ravenclaws, quiet and calculating, one mind already betrayed. The Hufflepuffs, calm and resolute, anchoring the future with steady hands.
He noted Dorcas Meadowes in passing, a ghost of intention flickering in her stride. His green eyes narrowed slightly. One has faltered. One choice will ripple through everything.
From the shadows, he watched, silent, calculating, patient.
***
In the Great Hall, whispers had already begun. Students spoke of oaths sworn, allegiances taken, secrets kept or broken. The air buzzed with fear and awe. Some of the younger students felt that something monumental was happening—more than magic, more than rivalry.
Flitwick, perched on the edge of the staff table, observed quietly. He adjusted his robes, careful not to disturb the balance of magic he always felt lingering in the castle. Every spell cast in the last days, every ritual performed, every oath sworn—it had changed Hogwarts.
Slughorn, nearby, poured himself another glass of firewhisky. His eyes glittered with satisfaction, but also concern. Every student who chose a side strengthened them—and each betrayal weakened the school.
Even Dumbledore, seated in his office high above the castle, could feel it. Notes came in from professors, whispers from students. The Peverells were no longer hidden; their influence had solidified. And yet, Dorcas Meadowes’s report reminded him that all was not certain.
***
That night, Hadrian called a meeting in the Room of Requirement. The castle shifted around them, expanding into a space that could contain them all: Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, Slytherins, even those brave enough from Ravenclaw who had remained loyal.
The room was a cathedral of shadow and torchlight. Runic patterns shimmered faintly on the floor, mirrors of loyalty and willpower.
“Tonight,” Hadrian said, voice low and deliberate, “we test ourselves. Not against Voldemort. Not against Dumbledore. Against ourselves. Against our choices.” He allowed a silence to stretch, watching faces tighten with anticipation. “You who follow me,” he continued, “will stand for the House you represent. You who falter, you will step aside. There will be no hesitation. No second chances.”
Eyes met eyes. Wands rose slightly. Hearts pounded.
Sirius leaned close, whispering, “It’s more than magic. It’s everything we are. Don’t fail.”
Hadrian nodded once. “We will not fail. Not tonight. Not ever.”
And as the castle held its breath, the heirs of Hogwarts’ ancient Houses stepped forward—some ready, some uncertain, all irrevocably changed.
Outside, the night sky shivered with the first hints of Voldemort’s reaction. But within Hogwarts, the game had begun—and loyalties, once tested, were now set in iron.

Chapter Text

The night was cold, the kind of sharp chill that cut through robes and settled in bone. Hogwarts’ stone halls echoed with silence, broken only by the distant drip of condensation and the faint shuffle of a lone patrol.
Hadrian walked the shadows alone, his footsteps quiet, deliberate. He was rarely without Sirius these days, but tonight, he had chosen solitude. His mind was crowded with too many voices—Dumbledore’s half-smiles, Meadowes’ betrayal, Draco’s ambitions, Hermione’s relentless strategies, Neville’s unflinching loyalty. Even a family could weigh heavy.
The silence broke. A whisper of displaced air. A surge of killing intent.
Hadrian pivoted, wand flashing. Protego! A curse slammed into his shield, sparking like shattered glass. Another came, and another—green, red, violet bolts slicing the air. Shadows detached from the walls: three cloaked figures, their masks gleaming faintly in torchlight. Death Eater sympathizers. Students? Teachers’ kin? He couldn’t tell, but their fury was unmistakable.
One voice hissed, “You shouldn’t exist. Peverell.” Hadrian smiled grimly. “Then come and prove it.”
The duel was vicious. Spells ricocheted off stone, scorching tapestries, cracking the floor beneath them. Hadrian fought like a predator, movements precise, his wand an extension of will. But three-on-one was relentless. A curse clipped his side—hot, burning agony tearing flesh. He staggered, caught himself, lashed back with a chain of silent spells that forced one assailant into the wall with a sickening crunch.
But pain bled through him, dark spots pricking his vision. Another spell slammed into his shoulder, spinning him. His wand flew, clattering across the floor. For the first time, Hadrian Peverell knelt, breath sharp, blood staining his robes.
The cloaked figures raised their wands in triumph.
***
They didn’t see the storm coming.
Draco was first, serpents hissing down the corridor as he strode in, silver eyes burning. Neville came behind him, wand blazing like a torch, his voice carrying command as Gryffindors thundered down the stairs. Hermione’s runes lit the air, collapsing the passage behind the attackers, cutting off their retreat.
And Sirius—Sirius tore through the hall like fire given flesh, blasting one assailant across the corridor with raw fury.
The Death Eaters broke. One fell, writhing under Neville’s spell. Another crumpled when Draco’s wards constricted around his throat. The last barely escaped, Disapparating with a scream as Hermione’s hex grazed his mask.
When it was done, the hall was scorched black. Smoke curled from cracked stone. And Hadrian, bloodied but upright, leaned against the wall, watching his siblings like a king appraising his generals.
Hermione dropped to her knees beside him, hands glowing faintly as she pressed over the wound. “You should’ve called us—”
“You think Tom waits for an invitation?” Hadrian rasped, eyes glittering. Neville growled low. “They meant to kill you.” “They failed,” Hadrian answered simply. Draco’s lip curled. “We should hunt them. Tonight.”
“Not yet.” Hadrian’s voice was iron, even through pain. “We let them see what they’ve done. We turn their cowardice into proof. They struck from the shadows, and still they could not win. That is the story Hogwarts will hear.”
Sirius’s hand tightened on Hadrian’s arm, voice rough. “You’re bleeding out, and you’re thinking of politics?”
“Yes,” Hadrian said, calm even as crimson stained the floor. “Because Tom is watching.”
***
By morning, the story had spread like fire.
They said Hadrian had been ambushed by cowards, three-on-one, and still stood. They said his blood on the stone was a promise—that Voldemort feared the Peverells enough to lash out desperately. They said the siblings had descended like avenging spirits, striking down enemies without hesitation.
Hermione orchestrated the flow of whispers, dropping details like coins into waiting hands. Draco ensured the Slytherins carried it beyond the castle, into parlors and drawing rooms of pureblood society. Neville stood tall before Gryffindors, declaring it proof that courage did not break under darkness. And Hufflepuffs—loyal to the bone—spread it quietly but persistently, a steady drumbeat of certainty.
“See how desperate Tom’s followers have become?” Hadrian said later, standing before the gathered Houses in the Room of Requirement, his side still bound in glowing bandages. His voice was quiet, yet carried. “He fears us already.”
Gasps. Nods. A roar of approval from Gryffindors, murmured affirmations from Hufflepuffs, hungry grins from ambitious Slytherins. Even some Ravenclaws leaned forward, drawn despite themselves.
Hadrian’s eyes burned. “Let him fear. Let him know Hogwarts will not bow.”
***
Far above, in his office, Dumbledore read Dorcas Meadowes’s report again. He tapped the parchment once, then set it aside. His blue eyes, normally twinkling, were shards of cold glass.
The Peverells had turned an assassination attempt into a rallying cry. They had stolen the narrative itself, twisting danger into strength. The school was polarized now, half whispering that Dumbledore no longer controlled his own castle.
Albus leaned back, steepling his fingers. “So,” he murmured to Fawkes, “we tighten the noose. If they wish to play at war, let them also taste isolation.”
And with a flick of his wand, subtle letters were dispatched to the Wizengamot, to trusted allies, to the Ministry. Words chosen carefully: influence, danger, children wielding power they do not understand.
The next storm was already building.
***
That night, when the others had gone, Hadrian sat alone in the hospital wing, awake despite Madam Pomfrey’s stern warnings. The pain in his side throbbed, but it was not the wound that consumed him.
It was the mask.
For a moment, in the corridor, blood soaking his robes, wand lost, he had felt it—the edge of failure. The fragility of flesh. The reminder that even Peverells could bleed.
His hand tightened over the sheets. He would not let them see. Not Sirius, not Hermione, not Draco, not Neville. The mask of calm control must never slip. But in the quiet hours, when moonlight fell across the floor, Hadrian allowed himself one whispered truth: If I fall, everything falls with me.
And the thought chilled him more than any curse.
***
By week’s end, Hogwarts was divided sharper than ever.
Gryffindors drilled openly with Neville, transfiguring dummies into foes, shouting curses until the walls shook. Slytherins split between Draco’s followers and purist diehards, whispers turning into duels in empty classrooms. Ravenclaws argued endlessly—some entranced by Hermione’s brilliance, others whispering that knowledge should be reported to the Headmaster. Hufflepuffs stood firm, a silent wall of loyalty, their resolve strengthening even as outsiders dismissed them.
The school itself seemed to breathe heavier, walls creaking with pressure, portraits muttering as if unable to choose a side.
In every corridor, one truth was clear: Hogwarts was no longer a school. It was a battleground in waiting.
The corridors of Hogwarts had always been alive. Paintings whispered, torches flickered, staircases creaked. Tonight, they were silent.
Hadrian moved as though he belonged to the shadows, robes whispering against stone, wand loose in his hand. He was restless. Too many days of whispers, too many nights of debates with Hermione and Draco over when to strike again. Even Neville’s fiery speeches could not burn away the pressure building under his skin.
He watches us, Hadrian thought. Tom will never stop probing, testing, striking. And Dumbledore… he waits for me to slip.
A scrape of stone. The faintest echo, out of step with his own. Hadrian’s instincts flared. He spun, wand slicing upward— Protego!
A curse slammed against the shield, bursting into shards of sickly green. A second hit a breath later, purple fire cracking the flagstones where he’d stood. Out of the darkness, three cloaked figures stepped forward. Masks gleamed in torchlight—mockeries of Death Eater garb, but rough, incomplete.
Sympathizers. Students turned fanatics? Or young blood sent by families desperate to prove loyalty to Tom?
One hissed, voice warped by magic: “You are a false king, Peverell. Tonight you bleed.” Hadrian straightened, calm in the face of hatred. “Then prove it.”
The duel exploded.
Bolts of light filled the corridor, red and green and gold streaks colliding midair. Hadrian moved like a dancer, every step controlled, every flick of his wrist precise. He disarmed one, slammed another into the wall with a silent Depulso, and whirled to block a curse that hissed like acid across stone.
But three-on-one was a grind. His shield shuddered under the barrage, his muscles burning with each movement. A hex slipped through, carving across his ribs—searing pain that stole his breath. He staggered, forced to a knee.
Blood soaked his shirt.
Still, his eyes blazed. He hurled a chain of spells that rattled the corridor—stunning, binding, slicing—but his body was slowing. Another curse hit his shoulder, spinning him. His wand clattered to the ground.
For the first time in years, Hadrian James Peverell fell.
***
The assailants raised their wands for the kill. They didn’t hear the thunder until it was too late.
Draco’s voice cut like a whip: “Serpensortia!” Snakes burst from the flagstones, hissing, striking at ankles. The blond strode forward, eyes cold and silver, his wand a blade in hand. Neville roared from behind him, wand blazing like a torch. “Get away from him!” His spell hit with the weight of a hammer, throwing one masked figure back. Hermione’s runes flared along the walls, glowing gold. The corridor sealed itself with a grinding shudder, stone locking into place. Trapped.
And Sirius—Sirius came like wildfire, reckless and furious. He hurled raw magic that shattered one attacker’s shield and sent him crumpling.
The fight turned in an instant.
One sympathizer lay unconscious, blood dripping from beneath his mask. Another writhed as Draco’s wards constricted around his throat, gagging him until he collapsed. The last tried to Disapparate, sparks fizzling against Hermione’s wards, before escaping with a scream and the crack of splintering stone.
Smoke hung in the air. The hall was scorched black, tapestries reduced to ash.
Hadrian stood, pale but unbroken, leaning against the wall. His side bled freely, yet his eyes were sharp, fixed on his siblings.
Hermione dropped to her knees, pressing glowing hands over the wound. “You fool—why were you alone?”
“Because Tom won’t wait until it’s convenient,” Hadrian rasped. Neville’s jaw tightened. “They nearly killed you.” “They didn’t.” His voice cut like steel. Draco’s wand still trembled, serpents coiling at his feet. “We should hunt them down. End this tonight.”
“Not yet,” Hadrian said. “No retaliation. Not yet.” Sirius grabbed his arm, voice rough. “You’re bleeding out, and all you care about is strategy?” “Yes,” Hadrian whispered. “Because he is watching. And we must choose what he sees.”
***
By dawn, Hogwarts knew.
The story spread faster than owls could fly. Hadrian Peverell had been ambushed by cowards in the night, three against one, and still lived once more. His siblings had descended like avenging spirits. The attackers had fled, humiliated.
Hermione planted details carefully, weaving truth and exaggeration together. “He was unarmed at the end and still refused to yield.” Draco whispered into Slytherin ears: “They feared him enough to send three. He bleeds, yes, but he does not fall.”
Neville rallied Gryffindors in the Great Hall. “They came for him because he’s dangerous to Tom. That means we’re winning.” Even Hufflepuffs joined the chorus, quiet but firm: “He fights for all of us. He didn’t have to.” By evening, the whispers became a tide. Voldemort feared Hadrian. His followers struck in desperation. The Peverells were untouchable.
Hadrian stood before them in the Room of Requirement that night, bandages glowing faintly beneath his robes once again. With his siblings at his side, he faced a crowd of students from every House.
“They came to kill me,” Hadrian said softly. The room stilled, leaning forward. “Three-on-one. They struck from the shadows. And still—they failed.” His gaze swept them, steady and fierce. “Do you see what that means? Tom fears us. Already.”
A roar rose from Gryffindors. Hufflepuffs nodded, murmured assent. Some Ravenclaws leaned in, hungry for more. Even Slytherins smirked, eyes glittering with ambition.
Hadrian let them cheer, then raised a hand. “Let him fear. But remember this—every strike he makes reveals his desperation. And desperation is weakness.”
***
High above, in his office, Dumbledore read Meadowes’s latest parchment. His lips pressed into a thin line.
They had turned attempted murder into triumph. They had stolen the narrative itself once again. The castle’s loyalty frayed further each day, splitting between his authority and theirs.
Albus leaned back, blue eyes cold. “If they will not fall by Tom,” he murmured to Fawkes, “then they will by others.”
Letters flew that night. To the Wizengamot, warning of “youthful arrogance” and “dangerous influence.” To the Ministry, hinting at instability. To allies, urging them to keep children from falling under Peverell sway.
Slow poison slipped into veins of power.
***
Later, in the hospital wing, silence pressed heavily.
Hadrian lay awake once again, pain pulsing at his side. Moonlight silvered the sheets. He stared at the ceiling, unblinking.
He thought of Hermione’s frantic hands, Neville’s fury, Draco’s cold precision, Sirius’s panic. He thought of their eyes, looking to him as anchor, as certainty.
But in the corridor, with blood soaking his robes, wand lost—he had felt it. The edge of failure. The reminder that flesh breaks, that death can come swiftly, unfairly. His hand curled into the sheets. The mask of control must never slip. Not for them. Not for Hogwarts.
But in the quiet dark, Hadrian whispered into the silence: If I fall, everything falls with me. And the truth chilled him more than the wound ever could.
***
The fracture widened.
Gryffindors trained openly under Neville, shouting curses until the stones shook. Slytherins split, some bending to Draco, others muttering of blood and tradition. Ravenclaws debated endlessly—Hermione’s brilliance versus Meadowes’s whispered warnings. Hufflepuffs became the quiet heart of loyalty, their trust in Hadrian unshaken.
Hogwarts itself seemed restless. Staircases creaked under tension. Portraits muttered, unable to agree on who held rightful sway. It was no longer simply a school. It was a battlefield waiting for the first true war cry.
The castle breathed with shadows. Long after curfew, the torches burned low, casting narrow rivers of light across the flagstones. Hadrian knew this silence well—too well. Every corner of Hogwarts carried memory, but tonight it carried intent.
He’d gone walking not for peace, but to bait the silence into revealing its teeth. When the scrape of boots came behind him, he was ready.
The first curse hissed through the dark—Avada Kedavra. The green light seared his vision as he threw himself sideways, wand snapping up. Protego Maxima! The shield buckled but held, sparks exploding like glass.
Three figures stepped from the gloom, masks crude imitations of Death Eaters, yet their voices rang with real malice.
“You pretend to rule,” one spat. “But Peverells die as easily as anyone.” “You should’ve stayed hidden in time,” another sneered. “Now you’ll bleed where no one remembers you.”
Hadrian gave a short, cold laugh. “If this is Tom’s best, he’s weaker than I thought.”
Their rage was the only answer.
Spells tore the air: crimson bolts, burning white hexes, a lance of sickly green. Hadrian met them with ruthless precision, his wand movements sharp, honed in wars none of these children remembered. He conjured a wall of flame, forced them back, countered with a cutting curse that shattered one’s shield into dust.
But pressure mounted. One slashed his side open with a jagged curse—hot blood spilled instantly. His shield cracked, his knees buckled. Another hit his shoulder with Confringo, spinning him into the wall.
For a heartbeat, the world blurred. He tasted iron. His wand slipped from numb fingers.
The trio closed in, wands raised high.
So this is how it feels, Hadrian thought grimly. To be prey again.
***
“Serpensortia!” The hiss of snakes filled the corridor. Draco’s spell conjured a storm of coiling bodies, fangs flashing in torchlight. The blond strode into view, his face a mask of cold fury.
Behind him came Neville, fire in his veins. His roar echoed: “Get away from him!” His Stunner detonated like a cannon, flinging one attacker against stone.
Hermione’s voice was lower, controlled, her runes flaring gold. The air thickened as the hallway sealed shut, wards clicking into place like chains. No escape now.
And Sirius—reckless Sirius—was pure flame. He charged headlong, wand blazing, blasting another mask to pieces. His eyes burned at the sight of Hadrian on the ground.
The tide turned instantly.
The last attacker tried to Apparate, only to smash against Hermione’s wards with a scream. He staggered away, robes torn, vanishing down a hidden passage. The others lay crumpled—one unconscious, one bound in Draco’s magical coils.
Smoke hung heavy. Tapestries burned to cinders. The stone itself seemed scarred by violence.
Hermione knelt by Hadrian, fury in her touch as her magic stemmed the bleeding. “You reckless, arrogant—” her voice broke. “You nearly—”
“Not nearly,” Hadrian rasped. His eyes burned even through pain. “If I had fallen, you would have been here. I knew it.” Neville shook with anger, fists white. “We should make an example of them. Drag them before the school, masks and all.”
Draco hissed, silver eyes sharp. “No. Better to let them vanish, faceless. Rumor is stronger than proof.” Hadrian pushed himself upright, pale, blood soaking his robes. “No retaliation. Not yet. We show Hogwarts that they failed. That’s the weapon.”
Sirius caught his arm, voice breaking. “You bleed, and all you think of is strategy once again?” “Yes,” Hadrian said, steady as steel. “Because Tom must see me unbroken. And Hogwarts must believe I cannot fall.”
***
By sunrise, the school buzzed like a hive.
“They tried to kill him again—three at once!” “And he stood until the end!” “I heard he bled half a pint and still threw them back.” “No—Neville and Draco arrived, flames everywhere—” “Dumbledore didn’t save him. His family did.” Each retelling grew wilder, faster.
Hermione fanned the fire in Ravenclaw: “Hadrian lost his wand, and still they could not bring him down.” Draco whispered in Slytherin: “If they send three against one, it’s because one Peverell terrifies them.” Neville’s booming voice in the Great Hall: “They fear us already!” Even quiet Hufflepuffs carried the message like gospel: “He bleeds for us. That makes him ours.”
By nightfall, the attackers’ names hardly mattered. What mattered was the image: Hadrian standing, pale and bleeding, unbroken.
***
In the Room of Requirement, the siblings faced a crowd drawn from every House. Torchlight flickered on dozens of young faces—fearful, curious, eager.
Hadrian’s robes hung heavy, bandages glowing faint beneath for a third time. His voice was soft, but it cut like a knife. “They came for me again last night.”
Silence.
“Three against one. They thought shadows and numbers would win them the day. But still I stand. Do you see what that means?” He let the silence stretch, eyes catching every student in turn. “It means Tom fears us. Already.”
Gryffindors roared, fists slamming the air. Hufflepuffs murmured assent, solid and sure. Slytherins smirked, hungry. Ravenclaws weighed the words, but even their eyes glittered with possibility.
Hadrian lifted a hand, commanding silence again. “Let them see. Let them try. Each strike proves only this: they are desperate. And desperation is weakness.” The cheer shook the walls.
***
The professors stood in the Wings. Not all were silent observers.
McGonagall stood in the shadows of the Great Hall that evening, watching Gryffindors pound their tables for Neville’s leadership. Pride warred with dread. He is no longer the boy I tutored. He is something more. Flitwick sat in his office, fingers steepled. “Brilliance can be deadly if wielded too young,” he whispered, thinking of Hermione’s eyes, bright and dangerous. Slughorn poured brandy in the dungeons, muttering: “Ambition without a leash… it always burns.”
And in the Astronomy Tower, Dumbledore stared over moonlit grounds. Fawkes trilled uneasily at his shoulder. “They will not fall by force,” Albus murmured. “So we shall isolate them. A little poison, slipped carefully, will do what fire cannot.”
***
Far from Hogwarts, in a darkened chamber lit by sickly green fire, Tom Riddle felt the diary shudder.
The boy. The Peverell.
Pain flared through his fragment, echoing the diary’s destruction weeks before. Rage clawed through him. His followers whispered, nervous, but Tom only smiled. “They make themselves heroes,” he murmured. “So let us make them martyrs.” The smile widened, too sharp for a human face. “If Hadrian bleeds, I will bleed him dry.”
***
Later, in the hospital wing, moonlight silvered white sheets. Hadrian lay awake, ribs bound in glowing charms. His siblings slept around him, Sirius slumped in a chair, Draco on a conjured couch, Hermione curled against a book, Neville upright even in sleep.
Hadrian stared at the ceiling, eyes unblinking.
He remembered the moment his wand fell once more. The instant he’d felt the edge of failure. Flesh fragile, breath fleeting.
If I fall, everything falls with me. The thought was ice in his veins. He closed his eyes, forcing the mask back into place. Tomorrow, he will be unshakable again. Tomorrow, the leader they needed.
But tonight—tonight he was just a boy, afraid of the weight on his shoulders.
***
Gryffindors trained harder, Neville barking drills like a commander. Slytherins fractured further, Draco’s faction swelling as old-guard purists hissed in corners. Ravenclaws argued endlessly, Dorcas Meadowes feeding doubt even as others swayed toward Hermione. Hufflepuffs stood as the bedrock, steady, loyal, immovable.
The castle itself seemed restless, staircases grinding as though listening. Portraits bickered, unable to agree on the rightful heirs of Hogwarts.
It was no longer simply a school. It was a tinderbox.
And with Hadrian’s blood on its stones, the first spark had already been struck.

Chapter Text

Dorcas Meadowes sat by the fire, her hands clasped tight. Around her, Ravenclaws whispered.
“You saw her—Granger, pacing at dawn.” “And Malfoy too, smirking like he’d stolen half the Ministry.” “Don’t be stupid. They wouldn’t dare—” “Wouldn’t they?”
The whispers grew sharper, accusatory.
“Dorcas was with them. She knows something.” “Then why won’t she say?” “Because she’s hiding it. Because she’s on their side.”
Dorcas flinched, gaze fixed on the flames. She wanted to defend herself, but her throat locked. If she spoke, she would betray them. If she stayed silent, suspicion only deepened.
Hermione appeared in the doorway, exhaustion etched into her face. The chatter died instantly. She didn’t scold, didn’t threaten. She simply looked—at Dorcas, at the room, at the tension simmering.
“Choose wisely,” she murmured. Then she turned and left.
The silence afterward was deafening.
***
In an abandoned classroom, Neville stood before a dozen Gryffindors. Candles guttered, shadows long across the walls.
“Again,” he ordered.
A third-year stumbled through a shield charm. It cracked under the first hex.
“Again,” Neville repeated, calm but firm.
The boy tried, failed, tried again. Sweat dripped down his brow. On the fifth attempt, the shield held. Neville nodded once.
“Good. Stronger next time.”
Seamus muttered, “Feels like boot camp.”
Neville turned, eyes hard. “War doesn’t wait until you’re ready. You’ll thank me when curses fly.”
Silence. Then Dean lifted his wand and repeated the shield. This time, it held.
Neville’s voice dropped. “We don’t hide in the shadows. We train in the open. Let them see us. Let them know Gryffindor stands ready.”
The room erupted in cheers.
And from the doorway, McGonagall watched unseen, pride and dread warring in her gaze.
***
The fire in Slytherin’s underground hearth burned green, casting eerie light across pale faces.
Draco stood at the center, Regulus Black at his side, Lily leaning against the arm of his chair. His voice dripped with confidence.
“The Cup was ours before it was his,” Draco drawled. “We took it back. What does that tell you?”
“That the Dark Lord isn’t untouchable,” Regulus said, eyes glinting.
Murmurs rippled. Some smirked. Others shifted uncomfortably.
A seventh-year sneered. “Or it tells us you’ve signed your own death warrant. He’ll kill you. And when he does, the rest of us will pay for your arrogance.”
Draco’s smile sharpened. “If you’re so afraid, perhaps you should crawl back under your rock. Leave the future to those with teeth.”
Tension crackled. A duel nearly broke out before Lily’s voice cut through, cold and precise.
“You don’t have to like us,” she said. “You just have to decide whether you want to be standing when the world changes—or trampled beneath it.”
The silence that followed was thick with decision.
***
In the kitchens, Amelia Bones stood on a stool, voice ringing clear.
“We are Hufflepuffs. We do not break faith. We do not falter. The others can bicker and scheme, but we—” she jabbed her wand toward the group of wide-eyed badgers “—we will stand. Because Hogwarts needs us. Because the world needs us.”
Edgar Bones raised his goblet. “To loyalty.”
The cry echoed through the kitchens, louder than the clatter of pots and pans:
“To loyalty!”
And somewhere, the castle seemed to hum, as if acknowledging the vow.
***
The staffroom was thick with smoke and unease.
“They’ve gone too far,” McGonagall snapped. “Breaking into estates? Playing with magics they barely understand?”
“They understand more than you think,” Slughorn countered, dabbing sweat from his brow. “I taught them. They surpassed me long ago.”
Flitwick squeaked, “And what happens when Voldemort learns it was students who crippled him? He’ll tear this castle apart.”
Dumbledore sat in silence, fingers steepled. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, dangerous.
“That is precisely what I intend to prevent. They must not be allowed to dictate the terms of this war.”
“And if they refuse your guidance?” McGonagall pressed.
Dumbledore’s gaze hardened. “Then they will learn the cost of defiance.”
***
At the Ministry, the air buzzed with unease. Rumors spread like fire: a vault compromised, an artifact missing.
Amelia Bones’s uncle heard whispers in the Auror Office. Barty Crouch scowled over reports he couldn’t verify. Even Moody muttered that something was stirring in the shadows.
And in the Wizengamot, old lords traded whispers: “The Peverells.” “Back from the grave.”“Dangerous, all of them.” “Or salvation, if you know where to stand.”
Lines were being drawn. Quietly, invisibly.
***
Bellatrix McKinnon walked her estate gardens in silence, hands clasped tight. Her husband followed, brow furrowed.
“You’ve been restless since the Cup,” Malcolm said. “Tell me.”
Bellatrix stopped, staring at the horizon. “Something has shifted. I felt it. He felt it. A part of him is… gone.”
“And that’s good, isn’t it? If he weakens—”
She turned sharply. “No. You don’t understand. Weakness makes him dangerous. He will lash out. He will punish. He will kill to remind the world he cannot be touched.”
Her voice lowered. “And now, he knows someone has touched him.”
***
In Riddle Manor, the Dark Lord’s fury was legend.
His scream rattled windows, shattered glass. Spells tore through furniture. Death Eaters cowered, some bleeding, some unconscious.
But when the storm passed, Voldemort slumped in his throne, hand pressed to his chest. His breath came ragged, shallow. His eyes glowed faintly red.
“Peverells,” he hissed. “They dare. They dare.”
And for the first time, the word carried not just rage, but something darker. Something closer to fear.
***
That night, in the Great Hall, Hadrian stood before the students. His bandaged arm glowed faintly where the Cup’s magic had burned him.
“You’ve felt it,” he said. “The tremor in your bones. The whispers in your dreams. A piece of Voldemort is gone. Shattered.”
Gasps. Murmurs. Fear. Hope.
Hadrian’s gaze swept them all. “But don’t mistake weakness for mercy. He will strike harder. He will strike here. Because he already fears us.”
Draco smirked. Hermione straightened. Neville’s jaw tightened.
“And when he comes,” Hadrian finished, voice like steel, “you must choose where you stand. With us—or under his heel.”
The hall erupted—cheers, shouts, fear, defiance.
And at the staff table, Dumbledore watched in silence, eyes cold, goblet untouched.

Chapter Text

The ancient house of Potter groaned as though it hated every presence within its walls. Shadows danced on the walls, the chandelier that usually sparkled was dim, and portraits hissed curses from the shadows. Potter Palace, for all its grandeur, had always been a fortress for the Order of the Phoenix—until tonight, when even its silence seemed to judge.
Dumbledore stood at the head of the table, his half-moon spectacles catching candlelight like shards of ice. His robes were plain, yet his presence filled the room with the quiet authority of one long accustomed to command. And yet… there was tension in the air, an undercurrent of resistance that had never greeted him before.
Around the table, familiar faces gathered. Moody, scarred and growling, slammed his flask against the wood. Molly Weasley wrung her hands, her gaze darting between Dumbledore and the empty chairs meant for those too busy—or too unwilling—to attend. Emmeline Vance leaned forward, skeptical. The Prewett brothers exchanged uneasy glances. Even Lord Potter's seat remained conspicuously unoccupied, though it was his family’s table.
“Thank you for coming,” Dumbledore began, his voice calm, steady, measured. “The hour grows late, and I would not waste your time. We must discuss the… unfortunate developments at Hogwarts.”
A murmur rippled through the Order. Unfortunate developments. It was a careful phrase, clinical, detached. Yet every witch and wizard present knew what he meant. “The Peverell children,” spat Moody. “You mean the ones running circles around us, turning the castle into their personal fortress?”
“They are not merely children,” Dumbledore corrected gently, though his eyes flashed. “They are wielders of ancient power they do not understand. And worse—they are corrupting Hogwarts with it.”
Arthur Weasley shifted uncomfortably. “Corrupting? Albus, forgive me, but… My own ears have heard that the school feels safer than it has in years. They say the Peverells stand between them and the Dark Lord’s influence.”
“Safer?” Dumbledore repeated, soft, incredulous. “Safety built on fear is not safety, Arthur. The illusion of control is not peace.”
Molly snapped, her voice sharp with maternal fire. “And what would you have us do, Albus? The children believe in them. Even children, thick as they can be sometimes, say Neville Prevell speaks like a true leader. When was the last time we saw such unity among Gryffindors?”
“That unity,” Dumbledore said, “is built upon dangerous ground. They are children wielding weapons they cannot possibly comprehend. Do you not see? Their rise divides us further. Already the Wizengamot whispers—ancient Houses rallying to their banner. And if they fall into darkness, as power so often ensures…” He paused, his voice turning low. “Then we shall have birthed a second Voldemort, wearing the mask of salvation.”
A hush followed. For a heartbeat, even Moody did not sneer. The weight of his words pressed against them all. But then Emmeline Vance leaned forward, her voice cutting through the silence. “Or perhaps, Albus, we have birthed hope. Have you considered that? These children are doing what the Ministry has failed to do, what even we have failed to do—strike blows that matter.”
“They are reckless,” Dumbledore snapped, the sharpness in his tone startling the room. His hand tightened on the back of his chair. “You speak of blows? You speak of victories? The destruction of the cup may seem a triumph, but it has emboldened Voldemort to lash out tenfold. Entire villages suffer for their audacity.”
Moody snorted. “And yet it rattled him. You can’t deny it. You’ve seen the reports, same as me. He’s jumpy, desperate. Afraid.” The room stilled. To describe Voldemort as afraid was blasphemy to some, unimaginable to most. And yet the words lingered, poisoning Dumbledore’s argument. “Afraid,” Moody repeated, his magical eye whirring, locking on Dumbledore. “Maybe that’s what we need. Maybe the old ways, your ways, aren’t enough anymore.”
The words cut deep. Dumbledore’s jaw tightened, though he forced his voice to remain calm. “Alastor, if we abandon principle for expedience, we are no better than he is.”
“Principles don’t win wars,” Moody growled. “Actions do.”
The argument might have spiraled into shouting if not for Molly’s sudden cry. “Enough!” Her fists slammed against the table. “We cannot turn on each other while children fight our battles for us. Albus, whatever else may be true, the Peverells are at Hogwarts, protecting children. If you strip that from them, what will they have?”
Dumbledore’s eyes swept the table. Loyalty frayed at the edges, trust waned. He had known this meeting would be difficult, but the cracks were deeper than expected. “Then let me be clear,” he said, voice dropping to a tone that commanded silence. “The Peverells are not our allies. They are a danger. They must be contained—before they undo everything we have fought for.”
No one responded. Not immediately. The silence was worse than defiance, for it meant calculation. And in calculation, loyalty could be lost.
***
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the staffroom. Professors gathered in stiff-backed chairs, teacups forgotten on saucers, parchment notes abandoned. The tension in the room felt heavier than any spell.
Dumbledore stood at the front, his hands clasped behind him, his gaze sweeping over his colleagues. McGonagall sat straight-backed, lips pressed tight. Flitwick adjusted his spectacles nervously. Sprout’s earthy robes carried the scent of soil, her expression guarded. Slughorn toyed with his pocket watch, calculating.
“My friends,” Dumbledore began, voice warm, almost pleading. “We have cherished this castle together for many years. We have guided generations of students, protected them, nurtured them. But now Hogwarts itself is at risk—from within.”
Whispers stirred. McGonagall’s gaze flickered to Sprout, who arched a brow in skepticism. “The Peverell children,” Dumbledore continued, “are exerting a dangerous influence. They command loyalty not by wisdom, but by fear. They wield ancient magics without restraint. Already, houses fracture around them. Already, students see them as saviors, rather than relying on us—their true guardians.”
Flitwick raised a tentative hand. “With respect, Headmaster… I’ve seen their work firsthand. Their wards around the Ravenclaw tower are flawless. Flawless, Albus. Few masters alive could replicate them.”
“Exactly my concern,” Dumbledore replied smoothly. “Children should not wield such power. And yet they do—unchecked. Do you not wonder who guides them? Who manipulates them?” His eyes glinted, sharp. “It is no coincidence they arrived in our hour of need.”
McGonagall finally spoke, her brogue clipped, her voice cold with restrained emotion. “Are you suggesting, Headmaster, that they are agents of the Dark Lord?”
“I am suggesting,” Dumbledore said softly, “that their sudden rise is too convenient. And that power, in such hands, is a risk we cannot ignore.”
Sprout pushed herself to her feet, her cheeks flushed. “Risk? Albus, they are Hogwarts heirs. Do you know what it means for my House to see Hadrian Prevell lead with such quiet strength? He has given them courage they never believed they had. You would strip that from them?”
Dumbledore’s expression hardened. “Pomona, courage without guidance leads only to folly.”
“And doubt without trust,” Sprout shot back, “destroys everything.”
The room froze. Never before had Sprout spoken against him so openly.
McGonagall’s eyes flickered between them, her face unreadable. But inside, her heart ached. She had seen Hadrian’s calm leadership, the way even the most foolish Gryffindors sat straighter when he spoke. She had seen Hermione’s meticulous brilliance, Draco’s cold cunning sharpened to something almost noble, Neville’s steady bravery. And though she did not say it aloud, some part of her wondered: had Dumbledore already lost them?
Slughorn cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Well, I daresay we might… keep our options open, eh? Dangerous times. One never knows which way the wind may blow.”

Dumbledore’s gaze pierced him, but Slughorn only smiled, rotund and unreadable.
The staffroom fractured, whispers swirling. Trust that had once been unquestioned now cracked. Dumbledore felt the ground shift beneath him, subtle but undeniable.
And Minerva McGonagall, sitting rigid in her chair, felt the first crack in her loyalty.
***
The Great Hall was loud with the clatter of breakfast, owls swooping low with letters, chatter rising in crescendos from each House table. Outside, a crisp wind rattled the windows, carrying the smell of rain.
It was almost ordinary. Almost.
Until the doors boomed open, heavy and slow. Silence fell like a stone into still water.
Dumbledore entered. His presence had always commanded awe, but this morning it carried something else—a chill, a storm waiting to break. He did not walk to the staff table. Instead, he stepped into the center of the hall.
Students shifted. Forks clinked onto plates. Dozens of eyes turned toward the four Peverells, seated separately among their Houses yet unmistakably bound. Hadrian’s calm gaze met Dumbledore’s across the hall.
“Students of Hogwarts,” Dumbledore began, his voice resonant, carrying to the farthest rafters. “There is a matter that must be addressed.”
A murmur rolled like thunder.
He paused, letting the silence tighten. “You have been led astray. You have been deceived into placing your faith not in your professors, not in the traditions of this school, but in… children who wield powers beyond their comprehension.”
The words struck like a blow. Whispers erupted. Some faces turned toward the Peverells with doubt. Others bristled in instant defense.
Hermione rose halfway from the Ravenclaw table, but Hadrian caught her eye across the hall and gave the faintest shake of his head. Not yet.
“They are dangerous,” Dumbledore pressed on, his voice sharpening. “Already they have meddled with magic, ancient and forbidden. Already they have provoked Lord Voldemort into violence that has claimed innocent lives. Do not mistake audacity for wisdom, nor recklessness for leadership.”
He turned, robes sweeping, gaze moving from one table to the next. “I implore you: trust in your professors, in the guardians who have guided you thus far. Do not place your fate in the hands of those who would gamble with it.”
The silence that followed was brittle.
And then— “No.”
The voice came from Gryffindor. A fifth-year, face pale but jaw set. Behind him, others shifted upright. Then more—voices rising, one after another. “They’re the only ones who’ve stood up to You-Know-Who!” “They protect us!” “They’re not afraid—why should we be?”
The sound grew, swelling into defiance. Students rose from benches, one after another. From Ravenclaw, Meadowes stood tall, voice clear: “We follow them because they give us something you never did, Headmaster. They give us a choice.”
The words cut through the hall like lightning.
Hadrian’s heart thudded, but his face remained carved from calm. He did not rise, did not gloat. He only watched, letting the tide carry itself.
Dumbledore’s eyes darkened. “You believe yourselves wise enough to see through illusion? You are children, intoxicated by spectacle. Do you not understand the cost?”
Neville rose then, steady and quiet, his voice carrying over the uproar. “We understand better than you think, sir. Because we’ve paid that cost before.”
The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, pounding the wood, voices uniting. Across the hall, Slytherins divided—some sneering, some smirking with open allegiance to Draco. Ravenclaws argued in hushed intensity. Hufflepuffs, stirred by Hadrian’s calm certainty, stood shoulder to shoulder.
The hall was a storm of voices, unity and fracture clashing at once.
McGonagall rose at the staff table, her voice sharp. “Enough! Sit down, all of you!” But her command barely dented the roar.
Dumbledore lifted his hand. Magic thrummed, pressing down like a storm wind. The hall shuddered into silence, forced and unnatural.
His eyes blazed behind his spectacles. “Do you not see? This is what division brings. Chaos. Discord. He”—his gaze locked on Hadrian—“would have you believe he is your shield. But he is your wedge. He tears you from those sworn to guide you.”
Hadrian finally rose. Calm, deliberate. His voice was quiet, yet it carried. “I have torn nothing. You did that yourself, when you stopped listening. When you stopped trusting them. When you decided we were too young to know the truth, too foolish to see the stakes.” His eyes swept the hall, then returned to Dumbledore. “We will not be your pawns. And we will not be silent.”
For the first time in years, the great Albus Dumbledore looked not untouchable, but furious. His wand twitched—just enough for McGonagall, closest to him, to notice. Her breath caught. Would he—? No. He mastered it, lowering his hand. But the mask had cracked. The students had seen it.
Hadrian inclined his head, almost like a bow. “This is not your war to command anymore. Not yours alone.”
The storm broke again, voices rising, the castle itself seeming to hum in agreement.
McGonagall pressed her lips together, her chest tight. She had served this man faithfully for decades. But in that moment, watching Hadrian stand unflinching while Dumbledore trembled with anger, she knew: something had shifted forever.
The Great Hall had emptied in waves of whispers and divided footsteps. Some students left defiantly with heads high, others slipping out with furtive glances. The storm had not passed—it had only spread.
***
At the staff table, McGonagall sat rigid, her teacup untouched. Her knuckles whitened around the porcelain, though she did not drink.
Across from her, Dumbledore sat in silence, his half-moon spectacles glinting, his expression unreadable—except to her. She had known him too long, through too many tempests. She saw the tension in his jaw, the flicker of something dangerous barely leashed.
“Albus,” she said at last, voice taut. “You cannot—”
“I can,” he interrupted, the steel in his tone rare, unyielding. “And I must. They would tear this school apart if left unchecked.”
McGonagall inhaled sharply. “They are children.”
“They are weapons,” Dumbledore said flatly. His voice dropped lower, colder. “And weapons must be controlled, or broken.”
The words chilled her. She had never heard him speak so. Never in all the decades of loyalty and friendship.
Her lips parted, but she closed them again. She could not trust herself to speak—not yet.
***
That night, the castle felt different. The walls seemed to carry whispers, the portraits muttered uneasily, staircases creaked as though shifting under tension.
In Gryffindor Tower, Neville stood before a crowded common room. He was not loud, nor eloquent, but his quiet certainty carried weight. “We can’t wait for someone else to save us,” he said simply. “We know what’s coming. Either we’re ready, or we’re not. The Peverells are ready. I intend to be too.”
He raised his wand. “Who’s with me?”
Dozens lifted theirs, light sparking in the dim common room. The air thickened with resolve.
In Ravenclaw Tower, Meadowes sat by the window, quill hovering above parchment, forgotten. Her house was divided more than any other—logic pulled one way, loyalty another. “You admire them,” said a voice behind her. Anthony Goldstein. His tone carried an accusation. Meadowes turned, chin lifting. “I respect them. That isn’t the same.”
“Respect?” Anthony scoffed. “They’re dangerous. Dumbledore’s right. They’ll drag us into ruin.”
“And if Dumbledore’s wrong?” Meadowes asked softly.
He faltered. “He’s never wrong.”
She studied him for a long moment. Then: “Everyone is, eventually.”
***
Meanwhile, deep within the castle, Hadrian and his siblings gathered in the Room of Requirement. The firelight painted their faces with flickering shadows.
Hermione was pacing, her mind sharp and restless. “He overreached. Did you see them? He showed too much, let his mask slip. They’ll remember that.”
Draco smirked faintly, though his eyes were serious. “Still, he has power. Influence. Half the school may still follow him.”
“Half is enough to bleed us,” Neville murmured, his voice low. She turned to Hadrian. “What now?”
Hadrian stood by the fire, silent for a long moment. His shoulder still ached from the Death Eater ambush days before, but he did not show it.
At last, he spoke. “Now we watch. Every choice he makes will push more to us, or to him. He thinks he can control the tide. But tides do not obey even the moon forever.”
Hermione’s eyes glinted. “And when it breaks?”
“Then,” Hadrian said softly, “we decide who survives the flood.”
***
Across the castle, Dumbledore sat in his office, Fawkes silent on his perch. Candles burned low, shadows stretching long. The old wizard’s face was grave, but beneath the calm, fury coiled. He reached for a parchment, quill scratching in steady lines. Summons. Orders. A final gambit forming in his mind.
The siblings thought themselves clever, beloved. But children could not outmaneuver a man who had played this game for a century.
At least—that was what he told himself, as the candle guttered low and the silence of his office pressed heavy around him.
***
The dining room of Potter Palace was heavy with shadows and the faint tang of stale smoke. The Order of the Phoenix sat around the long table, faces tight with unease. Dumbledore stood at the head, his robes casting long folds across the floor, his expression carved into solemnity.
“They are dangerous,” he said. His voice was calm, but the undercurrent of steel carried through the room. “The children have been touched by forces none of us fully understand. They wield power beyond their years. Already, they have divided Hogwarts. Tomorrow, they may divide the war itself.”
“Children,” Moody growled, his magical eye spinning. “You speak of them like they’re enemies.”
“They may yet be,” Dumbledore replied, unflinching.
A murmur spread around the table.
Marlene McKinnon leaned forward, eyes sharp. “You’ve built the Order to fight Voldemort. Now you want us to fight children who are standing against him? Forgive me, Albus, but that sounds more like paranoia than wisdom.”
“Marlene—”
“No,” she cut across him, voice rising. “You keep telling us we must trust you. That your judgment is sound. But I’ve seen the way students look at them. They don’t look afraid. They look… inspired. When was the last time you managed that, Albus?”
The silence that followed was heavy.
At Hogwarts, the staff meeting stretched long into the evening. McGonagall sat stiff-backed, eyes narrowed as Dumbledore spoke of “corruption” and “unchecked ambition.”
“They are still my students,” she said sharply when he paused. “And until they cross a line, they deserve the same protection as any other under this roof.”
Dumbledore’s gaze slid to her, cool and assessing. “You are blinded by promises."
“And you,” she snapped, “are blinded by fear.”
Flitwick cleared his throat delicately. “Might I suggest… Perhaps instead of confrontation, we observe? Children often rise when trusted, and stumble when stifled. If we force them into corners, well—corners can be sharp.”
Sprout, hands folded on the table, nodded. “I’ve seen them with my Hufflepuffs. They don’t rule by fear. They guide. That’s more than some grown wizards can claim.”
A faint line appeared between Dumbledore’s brows, the mask cracking for just a heartbeat.
The students, meanwhile, were not blind to the rift spreading above them.
In corridors and common rooms, whispers bloomed like wildfire. Some swore allegiance openly, raising wands to the Peverells. Others slipped away to Dumbledore’s side, convinced the siblings were a danger in disguise.
A Slytherin prefect was overheard muttering to another: “It’s not about houses anymore. It’s about who you believe in.”
In Ravenclaw, Meadowes listened silently as her dorm debated until dawn. When asked outright, she gave only a single answer: “I’m watching. That’s enough.”
***
Late that night, McGonagall lingered outside the Transfiguration classroom, alone. She pressed a hand to the cool stone wall, her heart heavy. She had sworn her loyalty to Albus long ago. But tonight, she had felt the first hairline fracture in that oath.
The image of Hadrian’s sharp eyes, Hermione’s relentless questions, Neville’s quiet steadiness, Draco’s wry confidence—they rose before her unbidden.
They were not children playing at war. They were something more. Something Albus refused to see.
She whispered into the silence: “Perhaps… I’ve been blind.”
The walls did not answer. But the castle itself seemed to exhale, as if it had been waiting for those words all along.
***
The Great Hall was alive with unease. Dinner plates had vanished, but no student had left their seat. The tension was thick, as if the castle itself were holding its breath.
At the head table, Dumbledore rose. His figure was imposing, his robes shimmering faintly, his voice filling every corner of the room. “Students,” he began, tone rich with gravity, “I must speak plainly. There are among you those who believe themselves destined to rule, chosen by fate to wield power. Power that is dangerous, corrupting, destructive.”
All eyes turned to the Peverells at their respective tables.
Hadrian sat tall, expression carved from stone. Hermione’s quill stilled over her notes. Neville’s hand tightened around the handle of his goblet. Draco leaned back in his chair, expression lazy, but his eyes sharp as glass.
“They are children,” Dumbledore continued, “but children wielding shadows not meant for any wizard, least of all the young. I urge you all: do not be deceived by charisma, or misled by fear. You have one Headmaster. One protector. Do not abandon him for false idols.”
His words rang out, solemn, final. For a heartbeat, silence reigned.
Then, one by one, students rose. First a Gryffindor wand raised. Then a Hufflepuff, stepping forward. Then a Ravenclaw—Meadowes, eyes steady, voice carrying. “They are not false,” she said simply. “They are ours.”
The hall erupted. Dozens of wands lifted, light blazing. A chorus of voices rose, not in fear, but in defiance.
Dumbledore stood frozen, eyes sweeping across the sea of light. His jaw tightened. “Enough,” he thundered, but the voices only swelled.
McGonagall rose from her seat at the staff table. Her voice cut through the chaos, crisp, clear, unshakable. “They are my students, Albus. And I will not see them condemned for showing the courage this war demands.”
A gasp rippled through the hall. Dumbledore’s eyes snapped to her, betrayal blazing. But McGonagall did not waver. She stood like iron, hands folded, chin lifted.
“Minerva,” he said softly, dangerously. She met his gaze without flinching. “Albus.” It was the sound of a bond breaking.
Hadrian rose at last. His voice was not loud, but it carried, cutting cleanly through the hall. “You will not use me. And you will not use my family.” The words struck like a spell. Every torch in the hall seemed to flare. The magic of the castle itself stirred, ancient stones vibrating faintly beneath their feet.
Dumbledore looked at him then—not as a child, not even as an adversary. But as an equal on the board, another chessmaster with pieces in play.
And for the first time, he faltered.
***
When the students finally dispersed, whispers clinging to every corridor, Dumbledore retreated to his office. He shut the door with a flick of his wand and leaned heavily on his desk. Fawkes crooned softly, but even the phoenix could not soothe the weight pressing down upon him.
They had defied him openly. Professors, students, the castle itself.
And he had lost… For now.
His fingers closed around the Elder Wand. His eyes burned with cold fire. “This is not the end,” he whispered to the empty room. “It is the opening move.” But somewhere deep inside, in a place he would never admit aloud, Albus Dumbledore knew the truth: The mask had shattered… And the pieces would cut.

Chapter Text

The Great Hall was unnaturally quiet. Not the silence of peace, but the silence of anticipation — the kind that falls before storms, before battles, before truths too sharp to be turned away from.
Candles flickered in the enchanted ceiling, their light catching on the dark stone walls and gleaming off House banners that seemed almost too heavy to stir. The long tables were filled, but no one touched their food. Eyes followed one family — four siblings seated at the Gryffindor table, though they belonged to more than that now.
Hadrian Peverell’s emerald eyes swept the room, calm, unreadable, but carrying the weight of inevitability. To his right sat Draco Peverell — the silver strands glinting in the light like forged steel, posture precise, the faintest curl of amusement tugging at his lips. To Hadrian’s left was Hermione Peverell, quill and parchment forgotten before her, her expression sharpened to something regal. Across from her sat Neville Peverell, shoulders squared, gaze steady as granite, radiating the kind of quiet strength that made others lean unconsciously toward him.
The siblings were not whispering now, not maneuvering behind curtains of secrecy. The time for that had passed. The castle itself seemed to know it.
Hadrian stood.
The scrape of his chair echoed like a sword drawn from a sheath. Conversations died instantly. The staff table shifted — McGonagall stiffened, Flitwick leaned forward, Slughorn’s eyes darted nervously between Hadrian and Dumbledore, who remained perfectly still, hands folded, eyes fixed on the boy who had once been his student.
“Students of Hogwarts,” Hadrian said, voice quiet, but carrying with unnatural clarity. No charm, no spell — just authority. “Tonight, the truth is spoken. The time for shadows has ended.”
A ripple ran through the hall. Even the candles guttered, as if straining to hear.
“We have faced Tom Riddle,” Hadrian continued, his tone not rising, but growing sharper, slicing through the silence. “We have faced his Horcruxes. We have faced his rage. And we will face him again, until nothing remains but ash.”
Some gasps. Some nods. Some pale faces.
Hermione stood beside him, chin lifted. Her voice followed seamlessly, a counterpoint of reason to his steel. “But this war is not only about survival. Not only about one Dark Lord’s fall. It is about the world we leave behind when he is gone. It is about rebuilding, reshaping, redefining what it means to live as witches and wizards.” Her words drew murmurs, Ravenclaws leaning forward as if pulled by gravity itself.
Draco rose next, movements fluid, deliberate. He looked every inch the heir of ancient blood — but his smirk was sharper, colder, his words spun with deliberate intent. “The old ways,” he said, “are rotting. The pureblood games, the light’s hypocrisy, the Ministry’s incompetence. Dumbledore plays his chess. Riddle builds his terror. But both play with lives as if they are pawns. No more.” He paused, letting the silence swell before striking. “We are not pawns. We are not children. We are the heirs of Hogwarts. And we claim our right.” The Slytherin table stirred, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Neville rose last. He didn’t smirk. He didn’t posture. He simply placed his palms flat on the table and leaned forward, voice carrying with unshakable calm. “I will be plain,” he said. “We are at war. People will die. But if you follow us, you will never die forgotten. You will never die as pawns in someone else’s game. You will fight knowing that you chose, freely, to build something better. A world without chains.” There was no cheering. No applause. Only silence thick enough to choke on.
And then Hadrian spoke again, voice like iron laid across the silence: “I am Hadrian Hades Peverell. Lord Peverell. General. I claim what is mine by blood, and I swear this: I will not rest until the board belongs to us.”
He stepped aside. Draco’s voice cut next, sly, smooth, inevitable. “I am Draco Peverell. Lord Slytherin. Web-weaver. I will turn every dagger in the dark into ours, or break them in their wielder’s hands.”
Hermione’s voice followed, resonant, unflinching. “I am Hermione Peverell. Lady Ravenclaw. Mind and strategy. I will build the future in thought and word, in ink and spell, until knowledge is no longer chained by fear.”

Neville’s final words landed like the strike of a hammer. “I am Neville Peverell. Lord Gryffindor. Heart and shield. I will not fall, and I will not let you fall.” The silence that followed was electric, unbearable.
Dumbledore finally rose, his face shadowed, his voice calm but threaded with steel. “You set yourselves above the world,” he said. “Children playing at crowns. Do you think you can hold what you claim? Do you think you can grasp such power without being consumed?”
Hadrian met his gaze evenly, no anger, no fear. “We are not consumed, Headmaster. We are choosing. That is the difference.”
Dumbledore’s hand tightened on the table. His eyes, blue and piercing, scanned the hall — but what he saw shook even him.
Students watching with awe. Professors shifting uneasily. McGonagall stared at her charges not as rebels, but as leaders. The castle itself seemed to hum with approval.
For the first time, the board had shifted beyond his control.
Hadrian’s voice cut the silence once more, final and irrevocable. “The game has changed. And this time, we set the rules.”
The night after the revelation, Hogwarts did not sleep. The castle buzzed with whispers that darted through common rooms, tucked into corners of the library, and echoed in the empty staircases. Slytherins hissed among themselves, half-pride, half-fear, that one of their own had claimed the mantle of Lord Slytherin. Gryffindors stared at Neville with wide eyes, the boy who had once been clumsy, forgotten, now blazing as their shield. Ravenclaws murmured in awe that Hermione had not merely mastered their House’s brilliance but had claimed its crown. And the name Peverell — ancient, whispered, cursed and revered — now burned on every tongue.
The board had been reset, and everyone knew it.
***
The fire burned low in the Headmaster’s study, throwing Dumbledore’s lined face into deep shadow. He sat behind his desk, but he did not write. He did not plan. He stared at the flickering flame as if searching for answers hidden in its dance.
“They are children,” he murmured aloud. “Children wielding fire.”
The portraits of former headmasters stirred uneasily. Armando Dippet muttered something about dangerous arrogance, while Phineas Nigellus smirked, clearly entertained.
“Children or not,” Phineas drawled, “they have what you do not, Albus: loyalty that is not forced. You speak of the Greater Good. They speak of choice. And choice is far more dangerous than fear.”
Dumbledore’s jaw tightened. His hands gripped the carved arms of his chair. He could feel it — the tide slipping, the careful game of decades unraveling in a single night. He had always believed the board was his to shape, but the board itself was rebelling.
“They will burn,” he whispered, more to himself than to the portraits. “They will burn, and when they do, the world will burn with them.”
But for the first time, doubt gnawed at him.
***
Far from the safety of Hogwarts, Voldemort paced like a caged predator. His serpentine face twisted in fury, red eyes gleaming. “Peverell,” he hissed. “He dares.”
Bellatrix Lestrange knelt at his feet, eyes wide with manic devotion. “My Lord, say the word and I will slit their throats where they sleep.”
“No,” Voldemort said sharply, striking her with a flick of his wand. She collapsed, gasping, but smiling through the pain. “This is no longer a matter of blood alone,” Voldemort murmured. His voice, though quiet, dripped venom. “They claim the Houses. They claim Hogwarts. They think of themselves as heirs, rulers.” His lips curled. “They think themselves… beyond me.”
He turned to Nagini, who coiled at his side, eyes gleaming. “Let them gather their strength. Let them play their game. I will show them what it means to defy me. I will show them the true master of death.”
Yet even as he spoke, unease stirred deep within him. The name Peverell carried weight — a reminder of legends older than his own.
***
While Dumbledore doubted and Voldemort seethed, the siblings gathered in the Room of Requirement.
The room had reshaped itself into a circular chamber, its walls carved with the crests of the four Houses and a fifth — the Hallows’ mark, gleaming faintly in silver. A table stood at the center, broad and round, like the war councils of old.
Hadrian stood at its head, but the others did not stand behind him. They stood with him.
“We’ve made our move,” Hadrian said. His voice was steady, but his gaze burned. “Now comes theirs. Dumbledore will try to turn the professors. Voldemort will try to strike before we solidify. We cannot afford to wait.”
Draco leaned back in his chair, smirking faintly. “Which means we strike first. Not with wands — with words. Politics. We take the narrative before they can twist it. The Wizengamot will listen to me. Or at least, they’ll pretend to. Malfoys always buy ears, one way or another.”
Hermione nodded, her quill scratching across parchment, already sketching the framework of alliances. “And knowledge is our shield. We need eyes everywhere. Hogwarts is ours, but the Ministry is a battlefield of its own. If we don’t control information, we lose before the first spell is cast.”
Neville’s hand tightened on the hilt of the sword at his side. “I don’t care about politics. But I’ll hold the line. If Voldemort comes, if the Death Eaters strike, they’ll break against us. I’ll make sure of it.”
Hadrian’s gaze softened as he looked at each of them — his brother, his sister, his friend. Not pawns. Not followers. Equals. “Then it’s decided,” he said. “We play the game. But this time — it’s our board.”
The room pulsed in response, as though Hogwarts itself approved.
***
In the days that followed, the castle shifted like a tide pulled by a new moon. Professors who had once looked to Dumbledore for guidance now hesitated. Flitwick, quietly impressed by Hermione’s grasp of battle-charms, began teaching her more advanced dueling strategies. Sprout, seeing Neville’s newfound strength, lent him the old texts on magical botany used during the Founders’ era. Even Slughorn, ever pragmatic, began to court Draco’s favor with cautious deference.
And McGonagall… McGonagall watched them with narrowed eyes. She had seen rebellion before, but this was no mere rebellion. This was inheritance. They were not breaking the system; they were remaking it. And though loyalty to Albus tugged at her heart, she could not deny the truth that glimmered before her.
Perhaps, she thought one late evening as she watched Hadrian spar with Neville, the room glowing with their magic, the world does not belong to Albus anymore… The storm broke three nights later, and it began with fire.
Villages along the Welsh border erupted in green light as masked Death Eaters tore through homes, dragging out squibs and muggleborns. The Dark Mark burned above the smoke, its skull grinning at the heavens. The Ministry scrambled, but its Aurors were split, half loyal to Dumbledore’s “greater good,” half wavering as whispers of the Peverells spread.
And in the shadows, Voldemort laughed.
“This will force them out,” he hissed, standing in the ruins of a farmhouse as flames licked the air. “If they wish to play rulers, let them play saviors. And when they come…” His red eyes glowed. “We strike.”
***
In Hogwarts, the siblings gathered once more in the Room of Requirement. This time, they were not alone.
Long tables stretched across the chamber, crowded with students — Slytherins in green, Gryffindors in scarlet, Ravenclaws in blue, Hufflepuffs in yellow. Some wore House colors proudly; others bore the subtle sigils of their families. They were not merely students anymore. They were soldiers.
Hadrian stood before them, cloak brushing the stone, his wand gleaming faintly in the torchlight. “Voldemort has made his move,” he said, voice carrying across the room. “He burns villages, slaughters innocents. He wants us to come to him. He thinks he sets the trap.” His gaze swept the room, steady, unblinking. “He is wrong. This is not his board. It is ours.”
A ripple ran through the crowd. Neville stood tall at his side, fists clenched around Gryffindor’s sword. Draco’s smirk was sharp, his eyes calculating as he glanced toward the pureblood heirs gathered among the Slytherins. Hermione’s quill hovered over parchment, but her words were sharper than any blade.
“We will not divide ourselves as Dumbledore would have us,” she said. “We are four Houses, but one school. And tonight, one army.”
Cheers rose, mingling House cries into a single roar.
***
When the cheers faded, a voice cut through the chamber.
“And what of the staff?” Every head turned, Professor McGonagall stood at the entrance, her tartan robes sweeping the floor. Her lips were thin, but her eyes — sharp, conflicted — burned with restrained fire. “Albus would have us stand aside,” she said. “He says this is not our fight. That you are too young, too… impressionable.”
The students bristled.
“But I have eyes,” McGonagall continued, stepping forward until she stood across from Hadrian. “And I see what Albus does not. You are not children anymore. You have taken responsibility where he offered excuses. If the war has come to our doorstep, then it is no longer a matter of age, but of courage.”
She turned, addressing them all. “So I ask you: will you have me as your ally?”
For a moment, the room held its breath. Then Hadrian inclined his head. “Not as an ally,” he said softly. “As a General.”
McGonagall blinked — and then, for the first time in months, she allowed herself a small, proud smile.
***
The siblings knew Voldemort’s fire was bait. So they laid their own.
Hermione mapped the attacks with surgical precision. “He’s pushing us south,” she explained, her quill sketching dots across the parchment. “Every raid, every strike, it funnels us toward Godric’s Hollow. That’s where he wants to meet us.”
Draco leaned over her shoulder, lips curling. “Then we go there — but not as prey. We turn the Hollow into his grave.”
Neville’s eyes blazed. “For our families, and for all of Britain.”
And Hadrian, silent until now, placed his hand on the map. His fingers brushed the ink, and the parchment flared as the Room itself lent its magic to the plan. “We end this tonight!”
***
The night was heavy with silence when they arrived.
Hogsmeade first — the place where students slipped for butterbeer and sweets — now eerily quiet, streets deserted, shops shuttered. Then the Hollow itself, the old cottages standing in solemn rows, their lawns glinting faintly in the moonlight.
And then the sky split open.
The Dark Mark burned above them, green and cruel. Death Eaters emerged from the shadows, masks gleaming, wands raised. And at their head, tall and terrible, came Voldemort.
“So,” he hissed, his voice echoing across the square. “The heirs reveal themselves.”
Hadrian stepped forward, wand raised. The moonlight caught his features, his green eyes glowing like embers. “No,” he said. “The rulers do.”
The air exploded with magic.
Neville led Gryffindors in a charge, sword blazing as he cleaved through curses. Draco unleashed serpents of silver flame, his Slytherins weaving wards and counters with ruthless precision. Hermione’s Ravenclaws struck from the shadows, their spells honed to disrupt and disable, every move planned three steps ahead. And the Hufflepuffs — underestimated, overlooked — struck as one, shields interlocking, hexes pounding forward in relentless waves.
Above it all, Hadrian and Voldemort clashed.
Their spells lit the Hollow in kaleidoscopes of fire and lightning. Each strike shook the ground, each counter rattled the bones of those watching. But it was not brute strength alone, it was with will as well.
“You cannot win,” Voldemort snarled, fury twisting his features. “I am the master of death!” Hadrian’s lips curved in a cold smile. “No, you’re its slave.”
Their wands locked, green against silver, the air between them screaming with force. And in that clash, the Horcruxes — weakened, hunted — faltered. Voldemort staggered, just for an instant, and in that instant, Hadrian struck.
An Avada Kedavra — green as a serpent’s eyes — leapt from Voldemort’s wand, but Hadrian did not flinch. He raised his own wand, the Elder Wand blazing with light, and the curse shattered against him. Then his own spell — not death, but finality — lanced through the night. Voldemort screamed as the magic tore him apart, his body unraveling into dust and shadow.
And then silence reigned.
All at once the students roared, the war ended not with fanfare, but with silence.
When Voldemort’s ashes scattered across the stones of Godric’s Hollow, when the Dark Mark dissolved from the sky, there was a stillness so profound it seemed the world itself was holding its breath. Then came the rush — cheers, sobs, the collapse of old certainties.
***
Five years have passed since that night, and the wizarding world is unrecognizable.
Where once the Ministry creaked beneath corruption and fear, new councils rose in its stead — balanced between Houses, bloodlines, and those once dismissed as “lesser.” Hogwarts, no longer a school alone, but had become the heart of a movement: a citadel where unity is taught alongside charms, where loyalty is forged as deliberately as wands.
And the Peverell siblings stand at the center of it all.
Hadrian, General and Lord Peverell. His name is spoken with reverence, not fear. Children wear it like a shield, parents whisper it with gratitude. Statues rise — not of a boy with a scar, but of a man who redefined what it meant to fight, to lead, to win. Hadrian sits now in Blackstone Hall, the ancient seat of the Peverells restored. Cloaked in black and silver, he carries himself with the calm of a man who knows victory — but never lets it soften him. His eyes are sharp, his wand always close. He is not just a hero. He is a reminder: power does not need to corrupt if wielded with clarity. And yet, sometimes, in the quiet between councils and proclamations, he stands on the balcony overlooking the valley, whispers slipping past his lips. “The game has changed,” he murmurs, as though speaking to ghosts. “This time, we set the rules.”
Draco, as Lord Slytherin, rules in shadows, but his touch is everywhere. Where once pureblood houses schemed for supremacy, now webs of alliances stretch across the Isles. Some whisper he has become what others once pretended to be: the spider at the center of the web. But unlike the ones of the past, Draco weaves not for dominance alone, but for balance. It was Draco who brokered treaties with old rivals, Draco who saw that compromise could be wielded as ruthlessly as curses. He is feared in the Wizengamot — not for outbursts, but for silences. When Draco Malfoy does not speak, the chamber holds its breath.
Hermione, as Lady Ravenclaw, recognizes that knowledge is power — and Hermione wields it like steel. Libraries once hidden, relics once forbidden, archives once rotting in dust — all opened under her hand. Where Dumbledore hoarded secrets, she dispersed them, ensuring no generation would be crippled by ignorance again. She walks the halls of Hogwarts not as student, nor even as professor, but as architect. Curriculums bend to her will, new subjects born under her pen: politics, ethics, magical law. She ensures that every witch and wizard leaves not merely skilled, but prepared to survive a world that will never again allow darkness to grow unchecked.
Neville, as Lord Gryffindor, is what holds everything together. If Hadrian is the mind, Draco the web, Hermione the guide — Neville is the heart. He trains the young not as soldiers, but as protectors. In the greenhouses he tends to plants that heal, in the courtyards he teaches sword and shield. He is the shield-bearer of Gryffindor’s name, the proof that courage does not roar but endures. His loyalty binds the Houses as much as any oath. Students flock to him, inspired by his quiet bravery, and parents trust him with their children. Neville Longbottom has become what Gryffindor himself once was: a pillar, steady and unyielding.
And what of the man who once styled himself the guardian of the age? Albus Dumbledore lingers, a relic in dusty halls. His words, once gospel, now fall on indifferent ears. His portrait in Hogwarts is seldom visited; his name, once invoked with awe, is now spoken only by historians.
Time has not been kind to him. He did not fall in battle, nor in disgrace, but in irrelevance — the cruelest fate for a man who once sought to guide the world. His gambits, his secrets, his manipulations: all eclipsed by the clarity of the Peverells.
The world has forgotten him, and he knows it.
***
On the anniversary of Voldemort’s fall, the wizarding world gathers at Godric’s Hollow. Lanterns float into the sky, hundreds of tiny flames illuminating the night. Families clasp hands, children laugh, old veterans shed quiet tears.
And at the center, the siblings stand together.
Hadrian lifts his wand, the light flaring like a star. “Not for power,” he says, his voice carrying across the square. “Not for fear, but for freedom. For the right to live unbound.”
The crowd roars its answer, the sound rolling like thunder.
Hermione smiles faintly, Draco inclines his head, ever calculating, Neville rests a steady hand on Hadrian’s shoulder, and Hadrian — Lord Peverell, General, survivor, architect — whispers words only his siblings hear. “We did what we came to do and more. The game has changed,” he says, eyes fixed on the horizon. “And this time, we set the rules.”