Chapter Text
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Chapter 1: “The Raven”
“I’m surprised that you even agreed to meet with me,” Sebastian Delacour managed to speak without his voice cracking. His throat felt as dry as a desert. An unsettling chill rolled down his spine. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be intimidated by the figure in front of him. Phobos was only a boy, but there was no denying the danger which surrounded his guest. “I was told that you wouldn’t even hear about any contracts involving England, Hogwarts, or Albus Dumbledore.”
“Yet you reached out to me anyway, Minister Delacour,” Phobos responded with a voice lacking any emotion. Green eyes flickered with the freezing might of Helheim. His blonde hair was tamed with magical gel and slicked back. The developing features of his face were chiseled and handsome. A massive scar covered his forehead, as though someone had repeatedly cut into the flesh with a knife.
Oddly enough, Phobos wore Muggle clothing. Combat boots, dark jeans, and a white T-Shirt covered his wiry yet muscular frame. He was neither tall enough nor short enough to draw attention to himself. Despite this, Sebastian’s guest had a presence that made even the French Minister of Magic hesitate.
Sebastian refused to flinch or turn away from the teenager. Candles flickered across his study. Rows of books surrounded him. A portrait of him with his family hung behind him. Moonlight flooded in through the large windows. His fireplace burned on the far wall. He had wished that they had agreed to meet during a different time. Phobos appeared even more intimidating while sitting between the roaring orange of the flames and the neon white of the night.
“I’m desperate,” Sebastian admitted. “You’re the perfect person for the job. I was skeptical at first. After all, how could someone so young be ranked so highly at the Guild? But all of my contacts swore that you were the most reliable hitwizard on the continent. Maybe even the world.”
“I’m glad that my previous clients are satisfied with my work,” Phobos reached up to pet the raven on his shoulder. The bird had yet to move from its perch on the teenager’s arm. Swirling black eyes, matching the fowl’s onyx feathers, glared at Sebastian, as if the beast was judging him.
“A perfect record. Not one bad review. At your age, it should be impossible. Yet here we are,” Sebastian took a deep breath. “I will admit that your youth was actually part of the appeal. No one will question why you’re with my daughter so often.”
“Yes. Your message mentioned her. Fleur Delacour. Age seventeen. Quarter Veela. A very talented young witch who is destined to find success in whatever field she decides to practice,” Phobos turned his chilling gaze towards the family portrait. All three girls in the image appeared similar. Silvery blonde hair cascaded around their angelic faces. Blue eyes, brighter than the heavens, glistened in joy. They radiated a beauty which no normal human could ever hope to achieve.
“Her Veela status won’t…bother you?” Sebastian’s question was filled with multiple layers, which could be peeled like an onion.
“I don’t care for how people were born. Their decisions are all that matter to me,” Phobos responded. “And you don’t need to worry. Her Allure will not be a problem.”
“Hmm. Are you sure?” Sebastian voiced his skepticism for the first time. “Since her Allure first manifested, even the strongest of men have faltered. Even those loyal to their wives. Her Allure is unique even among the Veela. It takes a special kind of person to ignore her.”
“Many have told me that I am a very special kind of person,” Phobos’s lips twitched upward, as though he told a private joke. “The Allure will not affect me. If this meeting goes well, you are free to test my claim immediately. I will have to meet her, after all.”
Sebastian felt a flicker of hope, “So, you’ll accept the contract?”
“There are still many negotiations to do. Plus, I have some questions,” Phobos leaned back in his chair. “Why reach out to the Hitwizard Guild at all? You’re the Minister of Magic. Your family can receive the best protection the government can provide.”
“In France, you’re correct, but my reach is limited outside the country,” Sebastian grimaced. “Especially in England. That fool Fudge is a puppet and a follower. He’s allowed himself to be influenced by both the best and worst people at the same time. Bigoted allies to my adversaries here in France speak out against sending my Aurors, and I have no allies on the more liberal side of the British Isles. Madam Bones and her people insist that they have everything under control.”
“You don’t believe them,” Phobos wasn’t asking a question.
“Not after the fiasco at the Quidditch World Cup,” Sebastian tapped the newspaper on the desk. “A Death Eater attack. What an embarrassment in this day and age.”
“I can see your concerns if Miss Delacour was staying in most places in the UK, but she’s going to Hogwarts,” Phobos remembered the details from Sebastian’s message. “She will be under the protection of Albus Dumbledore. I am confident in my abilities, but I have but a tenth of his might and knowledge.”
“Dumbledore will not always be there. He has other responsibilities. Plus, he is old now. He’s been making mistakes. Especially in the past few years,” Sebastian noted.
“Yes. Fair enough. The strange deaths of the Flammels. The Chamber of Secrets debacle. Peter Pettigrew’s escape from Azkaban and the Dementors,” Phobos conceded. “I can see your concerns, but he won’t accept my kind in his school.”
“He won’t know. You’ll go as a student,” Sebastian explained.
“Ah. That’s why you were so insistent on me,” Phobos remembered the several messages he received through the Guild. “Neither the Ministry nor Dumbledore can prevent me from going if I pose as a student. You won’t need a team of Aurors or an obvious bodyguard. You’ll have me by Miss Delacour’s side the entire time.”
“Exactly,” Sebastian nodded. “I had to try, even with your rule.”
“Hogwarts,” Phobos clicked his tongue. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even consider your offer, but times are changing. Darkness lies ahead of us. The vultures sense it. That’s where the Death Eater attack came from.”
“And it’s riled up my opposition,” Sebastian added. “They were quiet for so long, but something has emboldened them. They are pressuring me more and more. Nothing has come from it. Their influence is nothing compared to what it was during the rise of the Dark Lord. Here in France, discrimination in the Wizarding World is bleeding away.”
“It’s a last, desperate gasp from a pathetic, dying animal,” Phobos glanced at his raven. “Or the resurrection of a terrible evil.”
Sebastian grew tense, “What have you heard?”
“Nothing tangible. I can show you no proof, but we both can see the storm coming. It will affect me. Whether I want it to or not,” Phobos reached to the strange necklace hanging from his throat. The silver locket reminded Sebastian of a cabinet. “During the last war, the Guild remained neutral. I don’t think we will be able to do that again.”
“And you want to nudge it towards the right side,” Sebastian inferred.
“I don’t want any of the other members of the top five to be my enemy. We have our rules. We won’t stand on opposite sides of contracts, but war…War is different in our line of work,” Phobos released his necklace. “As such, I decided to consider your contract, despite my previous rules.”
“Excellent!” Sebastian smiled.
“We’re not done here,” Phobos leaned forward to stare into the Minister’s eyes. “Your daughter. Why is she so insistent on going? I cannot defend someone who will make foolish decisions and ignore me. It would be a waste of my time. Your records showed that she’s academically gifted, but joining the Triwizard Tournament at this time is a foolish decision.”
“She has so much of her mother in her,” Sebastian sighed in a combination of affection and frustration. “The call of the Triwizard Tournament is too strong. She wants to prove herself. To be the adult and witch that I always knew she could be. The risks are great, but the rewards are greater. Her winning would shatter stereotypes and set her up to be successful the moment she steps out into the working world. I want her to go and to prove herself, but I also need her to be safe.”
“It’s a difficult situation. She’s taking a gamble for the future. Admirable while foolish at the same time,” Phobos admitted.
“As long as she has protection from outside interference, I know that she will excel. I just need you to run interference,” Sebastian announced.
“Hmm. You’re readily coming to the negotiating table at a disadvantage,” Phobos pointed out the flaw in Sebastian’s argument. “You’re putting everything out there on the table that you can. While I would like to investigate Hogwarts, I don’t need you to do that myself. I have my ways to sneak in.”
“I’ve heard about you. You’re picky about your contracts. You won’t take one you won’t like,” Sebastian clenched his fists. “My daughter is in danger, Phobos. I want to support her. I’d hate to cut off her wings, but I can’t stand the idea of what these monsters would do to her if they could. All to get to me and make me their puppet. Like Fudge.”
Phobos stared at the portrait once more. His eyes locked onto the youngest daughter, “A family man, huh? Tell me. Would you do the same for your youngest?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Sebastian was offended. “I love them both equally and without limits. I would sacrifice everything if they needed it. If you turn down my contract, then I’ll have to do what’s best for my family. I’ll step down as Minister.”
“Really?” Phobos scratched his chin.
“Fleur and Gabriella are my everything. No amount of money or influence is worth them coming to harm,” Sebastian slammed his hands on his desk.
Phobos eyed him. Chilling green pools locked onto Sebastian’s gaze. A wave of cold rushed over the French Minister of Magic. Despite this, he did not back down against the hitwizard. His burning love for his daughters remained uncompromising. After a brief moment, Phobos nodded. The judgement was complete. Sebastian Delacour had passed the test.
“I accept your offer,” Phobos crossed his legs decisively.
Sebastian blinked, “What? You don’t even want to negotiate on price?”
“The initial offer was more than enough for my time,” Phobos turned his gaze back to the portrait. “I will expect the payment in full at the end of the contract when you’re happy with the work that I’ve done.”
“I…Thank you,” Sebastian sat back. “I thought this would be more difficult. My contacts told me that you were a tough negotiator.”
“Your tale moved me,” Phobos’s neutral expression and tone remained the same. Nothing had created any sort of reaction on his features. “It’s rare for me to find a parent whose love runs so deeply and equally for all of their children.”
“I see,” Sebastian hummed in contemplation.
“But there is one more thing that I must ask,” Phobos stood. The raven cawed from its perch on his shoulder. “I will do what I have to in order to protect Miss Delacour. I won’t go out of my way to cause trouble, but I have no doubt that I will draw attention. From your enemies. From the bigots. From the aurors. And even from Dumbledore. You must always support me and my efforts. If you don’t, even for a single moment, I will nullify the contract and expect payment in full despite the fact that I didn’t work for the agreed upon time. Is this acceptable?”
“I…” Sebastian swallowed a lump in his dry throat. “What do you plan to do?”
Phobos’s expression finally shifted. A cruel grin spread across his features, “Protect your daughter at all costs. Do we have a deal? Or should I walk away now?”
Sebastian slowly stood. He stared at the offered hand as though he was about to reach into the pits of hell. Slowly, the Minister shook Phobos’s palm, “I’d do anything for my daughters. We have a deal. You’ll have my full support.”
Adam Potter gasped as he awoke from his dream. He sat up with a start. Sweat had drenched through his shirt. All of his long black hair was stuck to his skull in a greasy mess, reminding him of Snape. His V-shaped scar on his forehead burned from the vision. The Boy Who Lived was breathing heavily as his hazel eyes adjusted to the darkness of the night. Visions were becoming a daily occurrence to him, but this felt different, even as the dream became a hazy memory.
“Wut?” Ron’s tired voice echoed from the nearby bed. “Adam? Bad dream again?”
“Y-Yeah. Sorry, I woke you,” Adam slipped out of his bed, placing his round glasses over his nose. “I’m going to use the loo. Go back to sleep.”
Ron didn’t need to be told twice. The redhead was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Loud snores echoed through the bedroom. Oddly enough, Adam found the noise comforting after years of sharing a dorm with his best friend. He and Ron often slept over at each other’s houses during the summer months. This time, they were staying at Potter Manor. Ron loved visiting such a large home, but Adam always preferred the warm comfort and connection of the Weasley family in the Burrow.
Potter Manor had many rooms and hallways which remained unused. Adam had to pass by many closed doors during his trek. Instead of going to the closest toilet, he went down the opposite passage until he stood by a door leading to the one room that his mother ordered the House-Elves to never enter. Gripping the handle, he opened the creaking door to see a time capsule for his brother.
Even after seven full years, his parents refused to change anything. The tiny bed, worn toy chest, and wide bookshelf remained the same. Dust and cobwebs coated everything. For a while, his mother had cleaned the space, but memories and regret eventually grew to be too painful for her. Eventually, Lily Potter had thrown all of her focus into raising Adam and the much younger Rose Potter.
Sometimes, Adam couldn’t believe how much time had passed since his twin brother had run away. Seven years was half of his life now. He was about to spend more time without Harry then with his twin. Of course, he hadn’t exactly appreciated his time with his brother while Harry was still with him. Sadness surged through him as he recalled what a spoiled, entitled brat he had been. Adam hated how he used to be, flaunting the attention and love he received from everyone to his quiet and forgotten brother.
Everything changed when Harry disappeared. Adam was no longer treated as Merlin’s gift to the world, and he was grateful for that fact. The thought of acting like Draco Malfoy made him sick to his stomach. All it took for him to be better was for him to lose his brother forever. They were supposed to be like Fred and George Weasley. They were supposed to be best friends. They were supposed to stick together through thick and thin, and yet Adam had been the one to chase his twin away.
Memories flooded his mind as he stepped over the stale carpet. Years ago, he would often barge into his brother’s room, finding Harry silently reading on the bed. Adam would brag about the gifts, attention, and praise he would receive. All the while, Harry would simply lower his head in sadness. Back then, the sight had filled him with a sense of victory and superiority for winning over all of the seemingly limited love and affection of their parents, family, and friends. Now, Adam felt like vomiting at the thought.
The Boy Who Lived approached the bookshelf. Harry had packed the shelves with every book a seven-year-old could manage to read. The forgotten twin hadn’t received many things of his own back then. Usually, Harry took the toys that Adam had tossed away. Because Adam previously had no interest in books, the Boy Who Lived allowed his brother to hoard what he had once viewed as wastes of time.
“Hermione would have hated me,” Adam muttered to himself as he reached for the one book not covered in dust. The muggle collection of poems had been Harry’s favorite. In retrospect, the writing had been too advanced for a seven-year-old, but Harry had spent hours pouring through the thick tome. Now, Adam’s heart stung from the comfort his twin had found in the depressed darkness of Edgar Allan Poe.
“Adam?” Rose’s tiny voice made him jump.
Turning, Adam spotted his little sister standing in the doorway. Her red hair flowed all the way down her back. She was tiredly rubbing her round face. Green eyes stared at him in concern. There were times that Adam had difficulty looking into those emerald pools. Most people said that Rose had their mother’s eyes, but that’s not how Adam saw it. In his opinion, Rose had Harry’s eyes.
“Hey, pipsqueak," Adam addressed the girl. “What are you doing up?”
“I heard you,” Rose stepped into Harry’s old room.
“Did you?” Adam rubbed the back of his head. “I didn’t make any noise.”
“You did when you woke up,” Rose stared up at him with loving, concerned eyes. “Did you have another bad dream? Do you need a hug?”
“I’ll never say no to a hug,” Adam knelt down to embrace her when he realized that he still had the book in his hands.
“Mum looks at that a lot,” Rose mentioned. “When she thinks I’m taking a nap. She comes in here sometimes and just looks at that book. She doesn’t even open it. What is it?”
“It was Harry’s favorite book,” Adam mumbled.
“Oh,” Rose blinked. At six-years-old, the girl had never met Harry. To her, he was closer to a character in a story than a real person. “What’s it about?”
“It’s, um, poems and short stories. From a man who was very sad,” Adam explained.
“Did Harry like it because he was sad?” Rose tilted her head to the side.
Adam sucked in a deep breath through his nose, “Yeah. I think so, kiddo.”
“I wish I could have met him before he went on his adventure,” Rose mentioned. Unlike the rest of the world, she didn’t believe that Harry was dead.
“He would have loved you,” Adam fought the urge to cry. “I bet that you two would have been thick as thieves.”
“Did you dream about him tonight instead of the bad man?” Rose sat on the floor.
“I…” Adam cleared his throat. “I don’t know if it’s about him. I don’t even remember much about them. It’s a blur compared to my, uh, other bad dreams. All I remember is that I was speaking to someone in French.”
Rose giggled, “French? Adam, you can barely speak English.”
“Hey!” Adam sat next to her. “You need to stop listening to Hermione.”
“You should try to remember those dreams more,” Rose insisted. “They’d help you find Harry.”
Adam looked away, “Rose, I don’t think Harry will ever be found.”
“Oh. Right. He doesn’t want to be found. Well, I think they would help him find us again,” Rose smiled.
“I…I don’t think that he’d want to see us if he could,” Adam admitted.
“Even me? I’m gosh darn adorable,” Rose teased him. “Everyone loves me.”
“You really need to stop listening to Hermione,” Adam couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.
“Can we read some of that?” Rose pointed at the book.
“I don’t know,” Adam cracked open the novel. “This is kind of scary stuff.”
“Harry read it at my age!” Rose puffed out her cheeks in protest.
“Alright, but I’ll stop if you start getting scared. The last thing I need is Mum to ground me for giving you nightmares,” Adam turned to the correct section of the book. For some reason, the name of the poem made him think that he was forgetting something important about the dream. “I think this was his favorite one. He always had the book open to it when I barged in. It’s called ‘The Raven’.”
This was inspired by Deprived by The Crimson Lord. I previously asked if I could adopt the fic. There was no response. So, if they contact me, telling me to drop this, I will.
Next chapter will be out on December 12, 2025