Sir Harry of the Knights of the Order of Merlin
In a very normal neighborhood on a very normal street, and in what appeared to be a very normal house lived the most unusual boy.
Some called him the Boy-Who-Lived. Some saw him as the second coming of Merlin and sent him lavish gifts that all had the same automated thank you note response. Some of the older ones of that World left him properties, libraries, rare and wondrous items of great historical and financial value.
A world that valued him, for the most part.
On the other side were the ones that despised the young boy. There were two types. The bigoted tattooed gang members whose 'fun' had been interrupted. Whose rise to power and glory was snatched away in an horrific way that All Hallow's Eve nearly seven years before.
The other were the perfectly 'normal' people of Privet Drive who didn't like the boy for one simple reason. He was a Freak!
Odd things happened around him.
Even his family didn't like him, dressing him in old rags, and pretending he didn't exist.
For the most part.
But today's visit was different.
The local priest made it a point to visit the sick, the elderly, those in need. He had heard from others that the Durleys might need help with their troubled nephew. But he had so many other people, that they just hadn't been seen to yet.
Not until now. And Father Murphy was being accompanied by someone very high up in the Church. He didn't recognize the man's unique style of clothing. Durable cloth cut in a way to make movement easier. He had brushed against the man's arm in the car, and the fabric felt fireproofed or something. There was something odd about the decorations on the man's cane, as well.
Father Murphy didn't recognize the badge of office on the Monseigneur's robes, and the man was most closed lipped.
Monseigneur Brown had given his name and papers, and had asked for details about the Dursley family.
"Does this have to do with young Harry winding up on the school roof? Rumors about the boy this week are incredible! Do you know that Mrs Cunningham actually believed that the boy turned into a bird to get down from there and flew over to Mr Cunningham who monitors the schoolyard! Flew to a branch near him, turning back into a boy! Of all of the things to say! His injuries from the Falklands clearly haven't healed well yet, and he is still on medication!"
The man in the dark brown tunic of simple design just turned his head, and nodded. "That is a very likely reason, a very reasonable reason for saying such things, don't you think?"
The local priest shuddered. The power of the man's silver-eyed gaze!
"Father Murphy, there will be other troubled youth like young Harry. Our home will offer him the guidance that he needs to make sure of his future, and the safety of others. We have done so before and will do so again."
"And that is what those papers are?"
"Yes. I have talked to the boy's legal guardian, who is illegally incarcerated, by the way. The boy should not be here. His parents specifically excluded the Dursleys as potential parents for the boy in case of need. Harry's father was in an anti-terrorist unit of M5. Of course he made plans for his child and potential future children. All you need to know is to look for such things in the future, and contact my department in Rome."
The car stopped, and the men got out. What was clearly a bodyguard got out of the front of the limousine, and stalked around the house. A hand held up to request his boss to stay there for a moment.
Monseigneur Brown leaned heavily on his cane as he handed over a most unusual card, just slightly larger than a business card to the local priest.
Father Murphy looked at the card in wonder. "You run a school? How marvelous, sir!"
The man's hand twitched, and for just a moment, Father Murphy thought it saw a bit of stick in the man's sleeve. He blinked, and forgot all about it as the front door of the house opened.
Father Murphy led the trio up the walk and into the house. A very large man, a large boy, and a smaller boy, all very washed and dressed up stood there in front of the couch. The lady of the house had opened the door, and invited them into her lounge.
"Mrs Dursley! So nice of you to let us visit!"
The woman was clearly trying not to frown at her interrupted day. "Please come in Father Murphy and…"
Now the forgotten stick was in the man's hand.
"This is not Harry Potter! Where is he?" The monseigneur demanded. "Where is he?
Petunia Evans Dursley was not a patient woman, and knew that she had to make a decision. When she received the note requesting the visit, she had a choice to make. She could try and find a boy's suit - second hand of course - for her nephew.
Or they could allow Piers to come in and play the part of Harry Potter.
It wasn't like the visitors would know, and Piers dressed very smartly for different events. His grandmother had passed away recently, so Petunia knew he had a new suit for that.
Piers had dark hair and a slight build. It was a perfect plan!
The boys thought it was hilarious that Harry was given cold medicine to put him to sleep and shoved in the cupboard under the stairs.
Piers planned to mock the Freak about that for months!
All of a sudden, the expected guests were there. After the one in brown waved his stick, Piers couldn't move, none of them could move anything but their eyes. Frozen in place standing in the lounge.
Piers watched as the largest of the three men strode around the house, and pointed his stick at the cupboard door.
"He's in here, my lord, and he's having trouble breathing!"
Not waiting for the command, the external lock went flying into the kitchen after the man waved his stick at it.
Then the Freak was being levitated to the couch.
Dudley clearly wanted to whine about his cousin not being allowed on the furniture, but should not have made an attempt to talk or move. He lost his balance with predictable results.
Dudley wobbled and wound up on the floor.
This had a domino effect as then Petunia tried to get to Dudley, who knocked over Piers on her way down, and Vernon just had to join in.
Mr. Dursley's head unfortunately collided with the coffee table that had glass inserts. With predictable results. He cut his brow ridge badly, and nearly lost his left eye. The four were surrounded by broken glass and splintered wood.
But the men with sticks were ignoring the perfectly normal people.
They were working on the lad on the couch who had been badly overdosed.
"I need to take him to the hospital, monseigneur. St. Mungo's is closest, but there are at least two wives of Death Eaters who work there. We would lose the boy too easily to an assassin." The bodyguard stated. "And I won't leave you here alone! Please come back with me, now, my lord. We will send an obliviator later."
"Use your emergency portkey. I'll clean up here. Send Chatham to me here if you must, you mother hen!"
The man rolled his eyes and picked up the far-too-lightweight child in his strong arms.
"Yes, my lord. Please stay here until I or someone else comes."
Poor Father Murphy didn't understand any of it, as the bodyguard carrying the young boy who was clearly near death, left in a swirl of color and a loud 'popping' sound.
"Air displacement. Charles is a rather large man after all. I find that his presence is enough to prevent most troubles."
"Who are you?" Father Murphy asked.
"Head of the Lower School for the Knights of the Order of Merlin. Not that you are going to remember that. I dislike having to mess with children's memories, but needs must and all. But first, Petunia and I are going to have a discussion of why she appears to have tried to kill her nephew."
Unsure of what to do, and calling on the first aid courses he had taken over the years, Father Murphy decided to do what he could, and worry about Monseigneur Brown, if that was really his name, later.
The poor priest was 'Rock'ed to sleep by an apprehensive bodyguard, and the man joined the mess on the floor.
"Were you trying to kill him?" The Monseigneur demanded.
A loud pop let him know his backup was there.
"Of course not! I didn't want Father Murphy to see the boy! I didn't care about you at all! I wouldn't have let you in my house if I knew what you are! I want nothing to do with Freaks! He's nothing but a freak as well. We never wanted the boy at all!
"Good, because he is not yours to worry about. Sign these papers, and we will be gone. Go to Dumbledore, or anyone else to fight this, and we will have a battle in court that I will prevail. You can't win this."
"I don't want to keep him! You can have him!" Petunia shouted. "And I hope that he does die! Stupid Freak!"
The monseigneur was a fighting man from a very dark family. He backhanded the woman before he could stop himself.
Of course, that is when Chatham walked in.
"Need help beating up defenseless muggle women?" The man drawled.
Only several years worth of campaigns gave him just the right tone of mockery. 'Rock's' wand was in his hand, and he was clearly looking around.
"She drugged Harry Potter nearly to death. He got to the healers alight?"
"The boy? That was Harry Potter? Charles was swearing and carrying on, but yes, he'll live. But he's going to want to help you slap this witch around if she was responsible."
"Squib, not witch. But I lost it when she said that she hoped he died. He's almost eight years old! No one that young can have earned that level of hatred from a family member!"
He pinched his nose. He taught teenagers year round for goodness sake! And no one had the capacity to get under your skin like them! Children this age were a joy to be with!
"Blood wards were mentioned to me." Chatham murmured, already scanning with his wand.
"Oh? Maybe we should take the other boy to make him a new anchor?" Monseigneur Regulus Brown had a sparkle in his grey eyes.
Petunia couldn't follow all of the conversation, but did understand that. She ran back into the lounge, wailing and threw herself across her son.
"Noooo! Take me! Take me instead!"
"Shut up, you foolish, foolish woman!" Monseigneur Brown demanded. "Neither of you worthless squibs are going anywhere. I finally see why my family used to kill such useless, mewling morons!"
Petunia put a hand across her mouth, but the other was firmly around Dudley. Every other non-magical person in the room was stunned and unmoving.
"You will listen to me carefully. We have powerful wards where we are going, but once the boy, Harry Potter, is awake and aware that this is no longer his home, your feeble wards will fail."
"You have days, maybe only hours, before this happens. You know what will happen when they fall. I don't know whether or not Lucius Malfoy has been successful in his attempt to find the lad. You were well hidden. I only found out about you through my connections recently, and believe me, I was trying to find my cousin. Surprised that Harry has blood kin? You shouldn't be, his father was a pureblood, and his mother from a line of squibs that still has living magical relatives. Even if they want nothing to do with you and their other squib grandchildren and great-grandchildren."
The woman looked pensive and stubborn. Jaw set, and eyes blazing in anger. No time to be delicate. He wasn't raised that way anyways.
"Move house or die, woman! Those are your choices! Don't wait for the wards to fail. Move far away, preferably to Canada who has rocky relations with the British Magicals. Australia would also be good. Somewhere where Dumbledore can't find you easily. Just so you know, that excludes most of Europe and America. France doesn't like him, but will help him. Do you understand?"
"Yes!" The horse-faced woman spat.
They finally got down for the real reason for the trip. In the back of his mind, the man was praying for Harry's quick recovery. If he died...no, better focus on the here and now.
The woman signed the papers, and the pair of wizards collected up everything in the boy's living area. They also collected a magical trunk from the attic that Petunia wasn't aware of.
"Where is the boy's vault key?" The Monseigneur demanded.
"Vault? As in the Freaks' bank? Lily's husband was a lay-about! Didn't even have a real job! They didn't have anything."
"Surely you get something from Dumbledore for the boy's upkeep?"
"Fifty pounds a month! That's it!" Petunia scoffed.
"That's ten galleons. Enough to feed a family of four for a month and have extra to spare for clothing and such. In the Wizarding world, that is a generous sum. I'm guessing that the amount is minimal here? I'm sure you took it as an insult, but it was not meant to be. I'll have to make a trip to Gringotts at some point, but I want to check in to make sure he was not harmed by this assassination attempt."
Now! Now she finally looked ashamed.
"The boy was being punished for his freakishness. I should have let him eat something before giving him the medicine. I just didn't want him to make noise or do something freakish."
All of that was said in a low voice.
Well, it was the closest thing he would get as an apology.
"Look. For the sake of the boy I will help you. Call this number, and I'll buy your house. Today. That will give you working capital to restart elsewhere. We can even pack for you."
He handed her the muggle connect card for Gringotts.
She nodded agreement that they had to move, took the card and didn't accept the offer of magical packing.
Rock did field healing on the large man, cleaned up and fixed everything in the living room. And they both started to modify memories.
He did add a compulsion to Vernon to quickly look for a job overseas.
Shaking his head, Regulus Orion Black, now known as Monseigneur Brown, returned to his school in Italy to check on his erstwhile cousin.
Life was going to get interesting.
The limousine left Privet Drive with only Father Murphy to be returned to the parish. He had memories of a peaceful visit where the residents gladly turned over guardianship to Monseigneur Brown. Who, of course, was going to take the boy to the school for troubled youth that the man ran.
The priest suppressed a shudder. The Dursleys had left him with a bad feeling, but he would pray for them.
And get them on his visit rotation, somehow.
Petunia was the only one who really remembered what had happened, but even she didn't remember everything.
Emma Granger answered the door. A pair of police officers on her porch were not what she was expecting at ten o'clock on a weekday.
She was to be in surgery in an hour, and supposed to leave in the next ten minutes.
"We called your office, and were told you were here, ma'am."
"Goodness, officers. What is it? Is everything alright?"
It was then that eight year old Hermione stepped from behind the bigger man, eyes downcast, silent tears flooding.
"There was an incident at the school. She claims that she had nothing to do with three boys getting pelted by books in the library. Unfortunately she and the boys were the only ones in that section. One of the boys was cut badly enough to need stitches. Look, bullying in school happens, but if she puts another child in the hospital, there will be repercussions."
The other man handed her a gold card, just slightly bigger than a normal business card.
"I'm not saying that the girl is a bad kid. Of course not. But this school helps problem children, I mean children with problems, and at no cost to the family. I can tell from the decorations in your home that you share the same faith, but even that is not a requirement for admission. Please give them a call, ma'am. We've placed other kids, good kids, in a bad situation, and they came back and thanked us for the opportunity to go there."
"Monseigneur Brown, Headmaster? Rome?"
The wandless compulsion hit her, with only the child noticing his wand in his sleeve and the feel of the magic in the air.
"Just call him."
The initiative to rescue muggleborns may have continued in an orphanage in Britain, but it didn't start or end there.
Despite their best efforts, a young boy in their charge, cruel and cold, had become a dark lord, attacking others raised in the muggle world.
The vicious boy had grown more wicked, just as his attacks had. The attacks on innocent children had to stop.
One of this dark lord's, the so-called Voldemort's followers, a pureblood, had become disillusioned with his 'Master's' plans. It was so easy to recruit Regulus Black, and fake his death after changing his disgusting tattoo into a bond of service to quite a different Master.
The wizard had much to overcome but it was an exciting time for him.
Black had to overcome prejudice in order to work with others of less than pure blood to bring down other dark wizards like the one who called himself Lord Voldemort. He had to overcome the need for social standing and wealth and live far more simply. He also had to overcome his reliance on just magic, and learn the ways of the muggle world.
Using a variation of a time tuner aged the man. He spent years of training that took only weeks in the outside world.
Black finding out that the monster calling himself 'Flee-From-Death' was a half-blooded illegitimate son of a near-squib and a muggle was certainly a surprise. And while he understood the reasons for keeping that information quiet, he didn't have to like it.
The knights' efforts had been focused outside of Britain as the Leader of the Light there did not approve their methods. Threatened any captured knight would see Azkaban if they had killed others.
So, Regulus risked his life in other places, often using time-turners to get needed sleep. Sending a missive now and then to certain people, hoping that they would reach out to this ancient Order instead of just relying on a pacifistic one.
Saddened by the lack of response but respectful of proper local authority, the Order did what they could and waited for an invitation to help. An invitation that did not come.
Then, the sudden fall of the Dark Lord had their Order's efforts swing to other places, other hot spots of dark art activity.
After several years of numerous battles, the knight Regulus Brown, as he was now called, was seriously injured in a Dark Arts ritual. His life force and magic had been severely drained, and he aged approximately twenty five years as a result of that life-drain. He barely escaped, terribly wounded, and was taken to a very talented trauma center in Rome.
While he still used a cane to get around, his mobility was slowly improving.
But Brown was transferred to the school to have him share his unique gifts and talents with others. He felt the hypocrite. He had been given the title Headmaster, but others did so much of the work!
His main job was training the upper years. And doing a bit of recruitment the few times a year that 'incidents' were reported.
Once students were fifteen, they were given a choice. It was to either transfer to one of the other magical schools, or stay. Take the Knight's oath and begin a whole new level of training in the Upper school. And start to serve the world.
Regulus was now supposed to go pay a visit to Augusta Longbottom, but would have to send an elf to cancel it. If he went at the moment, they would wind up dueling, and he wasn't sure that the woman who had captured Bellatrix wouldn't do him serious harm in his weakened state.
And he certainly didn't want to cause her serious harm. He was trained to fight, not duel.
Poor Frank. Another with Black blood, worse than dead.
Ummm, maybe he could try and find out more about his and Alice's condition while he was in this dreadful country.
Everything here was grey and damp and dreary.
Regulus turned his thoughts and hopes to home and vanished.
Neville added just a touch more of the dragon dung to the mix, and then started to feed the plants he was nurturing. He heard shouting, and ducked under the bench.
"I'll just be taking him for the day. He'll be back tonight." Uncle Algies's voice argued.
"He's trying to get out of dressing up and going to visit his father." That was Gran.
"What? No! He didn't ask for this trip. Just an idea of mine. We'll have fun."
Neville scoffed at that. Probably going fishing again. Boring. And cold. And Neville didn't like killing animals, he would be a vegetarian if allowed.
"Make sure he brings a coat. That boy is worse than useless. So forgetful. He'll never be like his father." Gran chided her brother.
'I wish Mum was okay.' Neville murmured again for the nth time that day.
"What do you mean he nearly drowned?" Regulus demanded from the St Mungo's aide.
It had only been three days, and he had been summoned to their version of a healing hospital. Pathetic!
"I'm sorry sir, but I'm sure that the boy's grandmother would not want you here!"
Regulus pinched his nose. He had gone home for a few days. It didn't matter that he was concerned about Harry Potter, or that his own injuries had been giving him pain. The old injuries were a consequence of interrupting a very dark ritual carelessly, like some Gryffindor.
Alright, so the scantily clad women had distracted him. But only for a moment! He was younger then, but no hormonal teen! But the injuries sustained years before were not healing well. His magic still felt weak, and he felt old. This would take a toll on him for the rest of his life. The pain made him cranky. Crankier.
If only he would have stayed in Britain three days before and not gone back to Italy. But no, he had to take and go home when he knew he was supposed to go and see Augusta Longbottom. Not that he looked forward to seeing the old battleaxe.
But then, if he had stayed, then Neville wouldn't have gotten hurt and he wouldn't have this new leverage to get him out of the country. And away from Dumbledore's plans, however well meaning he might be.
"I am meeting Regent Longbottom here. She's due any moment, and yes, I am a relative."
The aide muttered something under her breath about everyone being everyone's cousin. Unfortunately she was right more than she knew.
Just then, the door swung open, and Augusta Longbottom, Regent of House Longbottom sailed in. Her fine robes trailing behind her.
Regulus sniffed. He wouldn't wear his finest in a hospital to catch whatever nastiness got pushed onto the floor, but he kept his own counsel.
"Why is my brother under arrest?" The crone demanded.
"Algie Longbottom, your brother, and your husband's second cousin, was caught pushing his nephew into the water from a height of four meters at Brighton Pier. In front of the muggles. If he had done this during summer, he could have counted it as a prank. But in March when everyone is still in warm coats, hats, gloves and scarves on the beach it gets unwanted attention!"
"He was trying to do House Longbottom a service!"
"Do you want Algie Longbottom released, without a fine or any problems?" Regulus purred.
"What do you want?" Augusta's eyes narrowed.
"I want Neville to attend my school. I was going to request that he come September first, but I want him to come as soon as he is able."
She was handed a card.
"Rome? What do you want with a squib?"
"Military service has long been an acceptable place for unwanted squibs. That is if they are not killed outright by their family trying to scare the magic out of them!"
"And what if the boy is magical?"
"Then he will go to the school of his choice. I'm guessing that Hogwarts would not be your first choice?"
"Ha! So many other pureblood families are leaving that Dumbledore is considering a law. It will never pass, but he won't do what's needed to make it a great school either."
"Please sign these papers. You may not accompany him to the school."
"No unmarried witch who is not a member of our order is allowed in the priory, and no unmarried man is allowed in the cloister. I don't make the rules, I just try to explain them. He can come home for all of the holidays, of course, but we school year round. I have a packet of information for you. I would prefer if you not mention this to Albus Dumbledore. He seems to have an unnatural interest in your grandchild."
"Yes, so Alice mentioned, but she didn't know what or why. With her, and dear Frank in their condition, I will never know."
"I made some discreet inquiries, and have come to find out that no further treatments to your son have been made. The healing school near us specializes in Dark Arts trauma."
They had gotten him walking after all, and with his natural legs. The pain lingered, but he was alive.
"Yes, they would, healing all of the injured Knights of Merlin." Augusta tapped her chin. "I wanted to but didn't want to beggar the House for personal feelings if there was no hope." The amount of gold mentioned at the time would have taken everything down to the last house elf, and even then wouldn't be enough.
"If Neville is allowed to school with me, I will make sure that the financial arrangements have nothing to do with your house for your son and daughter-in-law's treatment."
It was almost funny to see the witch's jaw hit the floor, but this was too personal. House honor was involved, and Regulus was Lord Black, even in secret.
Bellatrix had much to answer for. He was just glad that she could never, ever hurt anyone again. The rumors from South America couldn't be ignored. If Death Eaters did manage to resurrect the Dark Lord Voldemort, then she would break out and join him. She would start killing again. Or worse.
His attention was brought back to the grand lady who had made her decision.
"You would do that? Fund true care for my son, and educate my squib grandson?"
The Head of the House of Black nodded. "I would."
"Let's see the parchment."
Regulus had the dream again, where everything went horribly wrong.
And horribly right.
Mulcibar's 'friend' was on the outs with him, so when the Dark Lord commanded that he obtain fresh 'entertainment' for some of the new recruits, the crazy man had an idea.
Capturing all of the 'ladies of negotiable favors' from a certain place in London. All muggle, not even a squib among them.
That was only the beginning of the nightmare though.
They had to drag along sixteen year old, wet-behind-the-years, hormonal in every kind of bad way new recruit Regulus Black.
So, after liberal use of the imperius on some, and promise of payment after the 'party' for all, the Death Eaters showed back up to the manor where the Dark Lord was staying. They show up with women. Muggle women. Muggle women prostitutes who were expecting muggle money. Lots of it.
Lucius started the blood bath before the Dark Lord even arrived.
"I will not touch muggle filth!" He declared, and a shot of green light permanently put an end to one woman's questionable career choice. Forever.
Now, Regulus was freshly marked, so he didn't know that protesting one of the Inner Circles' choices could have serious consequences. But he did, and it did.
The Dark Lord showed up just in time to hear Regulus shouting that Lucius wasn't fit to be Narcissa's husband, and that the family should reclaim her if he just killed innocent women like that.
"My. my. What do we have here?" The sibilant voice was clearly heard, all activity coming to a halt.
Voldemort knew how to make an entrance. The women, who had gone from cooperating to screaming at seeing their friend killed despite the imperius, were now cowering before the man. He no longer looked human after all of the rituals he had done, and one did feel his power.
"Lucius, explain why one of the captives is dead before the party has started? You know that I want the truth."
"Muggles, my lord. Filthy muggles!"
"But experienced, my lord! They will bring you much…" Mulciber knew it was dangerous to interrupt, but wanted to get his side heard.
A short burst of cruciatus for the both of them subsided that argument.
The Dark Lord looked disgusted, and looked around for his most bloodthirsty of new recruits. Not yet marked, but likely to be soon.
"You, yes, you want to earn the dark mark, don't you Dolores? Help Lucius take these creatures somewhere suitable. Anyone who believes that muggles should be taken care of like refuse may go with them."
Regulus had almost been sorted into Gryffindor, and it was only through much begging that he wore the green and silver on his robes.
Teary eyes looked up "You're just going to kill them? All of them?"
"Are you questioning me? I have a task for you to prove your worth. Summon one of your elves, and meet me in the foyer in thirty minutes."
"Mother, no! Don't do this! Don't…"
But Regulus' couldn't hear himself, and he was frozen in place.
Orion Black stepped forward. "My lord. My son and heir has spoken out tonight, as he should not have. Let me take him home. You can see that my lady wife Walburga has joined the other party. She does hate muggles so. I will return with an elf and suffer his punishment. As I should for not teaching him well."
"Do you see, my followers, how one should act? Accepting responsibility for crimes done? No, Orion, you may join your wife and the others if you wish, or return home. Your son will be returned to you later."
But he wasn't. Regulus never returned home.
Regulus Black felt horrible about what happened later. He nearly died, but was rescued by Kreacher, and taken to the hospital in Ireland near a fairly unknown Black cottage there that Regulus inherited from Alphard Black. Regulus recuperated there after getting away from the healers, and later found out that his father confronted the Dark Lord when Regulus did not return home.
Orion Black was killed by the Dark Lord directly in front of several followers.
Regulus was far enough away from the Dark Lord that Voldemort could not feel him through the mark. As long as Regulus Black stayed outside of England and Scotland, he would be safe.
He was thought dead by one and all, after all.
It was then he was recruited to be a Knight of the Order of Merlin.
For the sake of his father, all of the lives lost due to callous disregard, Regulus joined with a will, eventually taking oaths that removed the Mark from his arm and soul.
And set a different mark there.
Regulus' nightmare memories then turned to images of two boys. And four parents. Two gone forever, nothing to be done but light candles of remembrance and prayers for the dead.
Two not-so-dead. What dark magic kept these two brave aurors locked in their minds?
St Michael's in Rome was the best, and if they couldn't figure it out, no one could.
But seeing their faces, Regulus had shuddered.
Would he be worse than that as an inferi if Kreature had not have rescued him?
Regulus tried to put the nightmare thoughts out of his head. Going through his Occlumency, he settled down to an uneasy rest.
Neville was improving, Alice and Frank were with the best, and Harry had already been to visit the boy in the hospital, learning from the staff that there was another boy that had been rescued from Britain too.
Smiling at the thought of Harry meeting Neville, both so young, so full of potential. So innocent, so powerful.
Both marked for death from a being that was immortal. Well, temporarily.
No, things would be better, they would live, thrive, grow. Regulus promised himself and his brother.
The boys would live and thrive, both Harry Potter, wizard and Neville Longbottom, wizard or squib, didn't matter.
No, it was time for the Light to thrive.
It was time for the Evil ones to die.
A/N A few quick notes. This is going to be AU. AU characters, genealogy, everything.
I have the first three chapters of this story ready, but the rest is still waiting to be written. Updates may be sporadic.
While the characters involved are all members of a certain religion, I will be trying very hard not to make that the focus, and be very respectful of said religion. If you feel that having a magical person with faith is not something you want to read, then you have been warned.
This story is AU. If it wasn't you wouldn't be reading this, but the original J.K. Rowling books that are wonderful. Prisoner of Azkaban has to be my favorite.
I welcome recommended stories to add in my author notes.
To Old-Crow, thank you so much for the inspiration that you are to all new writers. Bless you. Thank you for your wonderful tales. Dan Granger and Atonement and No Thanks and….All of them. Are all recommended.
RobSt - Harry Crow is a great read. I have to say while I in no way want to spoil any surprises, one of his stories is inspiration for part of this one. I don't feel that I copied, just was inspired by. I will give full credit at the end of it, and just want to say thank you for all of your wonderful stories.
Thank you for reading.
Minor edits 5/27/2021