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Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort, newly resurrected, knew that he didn’t necessarily need to renew his status as a lord by heading on down to Gringotts, but he figured it couldn’t hurt, and having access to the vaults and properties again could only help him as he destroyed Dumbledore and that Potter boy.
His snakey glamor, which he had thankfully resurrected with for maximum fear factor, was now gone, leaving him looking like an early thirties version of himself. Odd, but not unwelcome, maybe those horcruxes were good for more than just soul anchors.
He was swept into an office with the Slytherin account manager and was handed a dagger. A simple blood inheritance test and he could get his rings back and be on his way.
Sharptooth looked over the paper briefly and nodded. “Welcome back, Lord Slytherin. Here is your ring and your key. And, might I say, congratulations.”
Voldemort frowned. “For what?”
Sharptooth passed over the parchment. “Your children.”
He stared.
Child(ren): Regulus Arcturus Black (incapacitated), Harry James Potter, Ginerva Molly Weasley
…WHAT?!
Harry was pissed. He didn't feel like this was unreasonable, or that he was feeling more pissed than usual. Honestly, Ron and Hermione had kept him in the dark with no news for the entire summer, bar these last few days, he was going to a trial soon for the crime of keeping himself and his cousin alive, and Dumbledore was very clearly ignoring him for some terrible reason. The only person he felt like hanging out with at any given time was Ginny, especially because every time Ron waggled his eyebrows at them, they both glared at him.
“I am not in love with you,” Ginny said firmly when they were alone, “I had a crush but it’s gone, has been since the start of third when I saw you again. You’re my favorite brother, though.”
Harry grinned. “Is it too obvious to say you’re my favorite sister?”
She rolled her eyes and went back to her borderline dark book on Hexes for Witches of Any Age.
They had taken to hanging out together so much that they both got the owls at the same time.
Ginny frowned at the regal bird. “Aren’t the wards supposed to keep out… basically all owls?”
Harry tugged off the rolled parchment. “Maybe it’s a ministry owl? I feel like with my trial there’s an exception in the wards.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she rolled her eyes, “tomorrow’s going to be awful while you’re gone getting expelled. Mum’ll be insufferable.”
He snorted. “Such faith. This isn’t the ministry seal, though, is it?”
She inspected her own letter. “No…it’s not. Looks kinda snakey.”
They exchanged a glance and ripped them open at the same time. Harry’s eyes scanned the words once before his eyes flicked down to the signature. He frowned, and reread the letter.
Ginny snorted. “‘Have you come into contact with any objects containing stray bits of soul,’” she mocked, “gee, I dunno, first year, maybe?”
Harry grimaced. “Does the map count, you think? Or I guess the wraith during my first year, that’s a stray bit of soul.”
“And signing it Lord Gaunt,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “who even is that? And what the hell is a horcrux? I've never heard of it.”
Sirius poke his head in. “Did you say horcrux? And Gaunt? Is someone offering to adopt you?”
Harry and Ginny stared.
Sirius cocked his head. “The Gaunts haven’t been seen in ages, I thought I heard the last ones were all but squibs, but I guess there’s a resurgence if one of them is talking about horcruxes.”
“Hang on,” Harry waved the letter, “what is a horcrux and why do you know what they are?”
“Oh,” Sirius waved him off, “my dear mother threatened to do one with me for the feedback loop until she learned she wouldn’t be able to hurt me. I can find the book, if you want, it’s pretty old and barely english but it goes over the process.”
“Sirius,” Ginny sang, “that doesn’t answer the question of what it is.”
Sirius snorted and flopped into a chair, but before he could say anything, Hermione came into the room.
“I heard you talk about an old book,” she said promptly, “and based on how you would allow them to read it, that means it can’t be too dark. Can I read it?”
“Ah, classic Hermione,” Ginny grinned.
Sirius waved her in. “Sit down, this is the only interesting part of the whole book. Now that I think about it, the rest is all garbage about rituals that no one uses anymore, and some of it is dark. Anyway, a horcrux is a by-product of an adoption ritual that fell out of favor when blood adoptions happen. A blood adoption is easier, and requires far less power, but it also means that they literally become your blood, which is what led to inbreeding. On the other hand, soul adoption just adds you to the family magics. Blood adoption overrides your blood and gives you new parents, soul adoption just adds to them.”
Hermione frowned. “Then why did it fall out of favor? Because of blood purity?”
Sirius snorted. “Not hardly. In their eyes, a soul adoption was better, it was just way harder. It made you weaker, because the parent is literally gifting half of their soul to the child.” He looked at their horrified expressions and snorted. “It comes back, it just swirls through the kid and shares the family magic, making you family, and then it bleeds back over time. But obviously, giving away half of your soul leaves you weaker, even if it’s not for that long. The whole thing takes somewhere between a month and a year, usually, but by the end of it, you’re family.”
“So what’s a horcrux,” Ginny leaned back, “and also does the kid have to be willing?”
“No,” Sirius shrugged, “but throughout the adoption, while the parent can’t hurt their own soul, the child has no such limits, so if it’s unwilling they can totally get their revenge. That’s why my mother decided not to do it. Back in the day, unwillingly soul adopting someone was seen as horribly taboo, because if they had enough power to do that and essentially kidnapped someone instead of just finding someone willing, they were basically scum of the earth. A horcrux is where the ritual is done on an object instead, which is then sent to the, well, usually muggleborn. It was invented when muggleborns couldn’t get to the ritual because they were surrounded by muggles."
Hermione’s nose wrinkled. “How would the soul get from the object to the person?”
Sirius shrugged. “Just touching it. Souls don’t like to be trapped in objects. Oh, and they have to be under 17. That’s actually why it’s the wizarding age of majority, because that's when the soul adoption stopped working.”
Harry raised his hand slightly. “If you were already a Black and Walburga’s son, why would she want to do the ritual in the first place?”
“It gives a feedback loop, where the child and parent experience each other’s emotions and some of the ways of thinking until the soul dissipates. It’s meant to bring them closer and also discourage the child from killing the parent. She thought it would make me more likely to listen to her and respect family values, but couldn’t pass up the time she could otherwise be cursing me. Jokes on her, feedback loop or no, I never would have been a good little Death Eater.”
“Huh,” Ginny blinked, “alright. So why’s this Gaunt bloke asking if we’ve encountered any horcruxes?”
Sirius blinked and beckoned for the letter. Harry obligingly passed it over and watched his godfather scan it, Hermione leaning over to read it over his shoulder.
“Huh.” Sirius blinked, then looked up. “And you both got this? I guess that means one of two things. Either he’s made more than one horcrux and is asking anyone underage who might have come into contact with them, which, wow, or he only made one and accidentally thinks he sent it to the wrong kid, and is now asking around. Why you two specifically, I don’t know, but if you managed to both get yourselves adopted, Molly’s going to erupt.”
Ginny snickered. “Is there a way to check?”
Sirius hummed in thought. “Yeah, probably? A magical lineage test would do it, but I have no clue where that old recipe is. I can go check?”
Hermione sprung to her feet. “I can help!”
Sirius waved her on to the library and Ginny and Harry sat in silence for a few seconds before Ginny snickered.
“Can you imagine,” she chortled, “if we really were? Or even just one of us. Mum would throw a fit, especially because if she’d known about this, she would have tried with you in a heartbeat.”
Harry snickered. “You think?”
They were called down for lunch, Sirius waving a piece of parchment with a wink. Ron managed to talk Harry into some chess after they ate and he got thoroughly decimated for several rounds before Hermione dragged them both to the dining room.
Ginny raised an eyebrow, already sitting at the table. “Why’s Ronnie here? He didn’t get a suspicious letter.”
Ron frowned. “Suspicious letter? I thought those couldn’t get through the wards.”
“We need a baseline,” Sirius explained, “Hermione and Ron cover both ends, of family magic and not. He’s your baseline, Gin.”
She shrugged. “So, is it a spell, what?”
Hermione passed around vials. “Sort of. It’s a potion you channel magic into for thirty seconds. It will change color, and then you pour it on a parchment and it will tell you what family magics you have, if any. Apparently, if you’re a muggleborn, it will tell you your new magic. In my case, it will say Granger, but it won’t be very big or bright. Did you know, if people don’t have flexible magic, even adopting them won’t do more than bring them into the family? People can usually hold up to three family magics, but if you already have several lines converging, you might not be adopted into the grander family. Their kids might have greater connection to the new family magic, however. It’s quite fascinating, and I’m almost upset that the soul adoptions fell out of favor.”
Ron grimaced at his vial. “How do I channel magic into this? Just like it’s a wand?”
“Yeah, that’ll do,” Sirius shrugged, “doesn’t need to be a lot, just a lumos.”
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance before Harry remembered he was angry at Ron and Hermione still and focused on powering his potion.
After thirty seconds exactly, Hermione’s potion turned from green to blue, and she eagerly poured it over the parchment in front of her. A few more seconds later, the rest of their potions turned blue.
“Granger,” Hermione nodded, “and nothing more. If I have magical children, they’ll inherit anything unique about my magic, and given enough time, the magic could be its own magical family! Ron, what did you get?”
“Weasley and Prewitt,” he shrugged, “from mum. Looks like Weasley is stronger, because it’s bigger, right? Gin, do you have more Weasley or Prewitt?”
Ginny burst into hysterical laughter. “Oh no,” she sang, “mum’s going to kill me.”
Sirius looked over and chuckled. “Looks like that Gaunt fellow was right, huh? What about you, Harry? Pure Potter?”
Harry swallowed and looked up from his paper. “Um.”
Ginny leaned over and whistled. “Wait, so you actually are the Heir of Slytherin? Damn. It’s not a lot of magic, though, you’re still predominantly Potter and… Peverell? Never heard of them.”
The other three converged on Harry's paper and he met Ginny’s slightly panicked eyes.
“We would have noticed,” she hissed over the loud argument Ron and Sirius were having, “right?”
“Probably,” he hissed back, “have you been getting feedback? Like, surely we’d notice.”
She grimaced. “I mean… anything could have happened my first year.”
“That’s it,” Sirius called out, “I’m breaking out the Self Updating Sacred 28 registry. I should have done this ages ago, honestly. Can’t remember the last time I heard the name Gaunt in anything, so I wonder where this lord bloke came from. Last Lord Gaunt was… Marvolo, I think?”
Harry and Ginny’s heads snapped up again.
“Fuck,” she said with a hysterical laugh, “you don’t think the memory was actually-”
“No way,” Harry cut her off, “it tried to kill you. Horcruxes or whatever aren’t supposed to do that. It was bloody sentient. No way. Besides, it was Voldemort, he wouldn’t have done an adoption ritual!”
“Will you two stop hissing, ” Ron yelled, “you’re freaking me out!”
They both stopped and looked over at the two pale teenagers still left in the room.
“Wait,” Ginny swallowed, “me too?”
Hermione nodded.
“Oh shit."
“This isn’t indicative of anything,” Harry pointed at her, “it's not. And when would I even have-”
“I’m back,” Sirius swanned into the room and slammed a large book on the table, “now, let’s see, G for Gaunt… Okay, looks like they're the only living descendants of Slytherin, suddenly Harry’s letter is making more sense, damn this guy is powerful enough to do it twice, current living descendant is… Tom Marvolo Riddle. He’d be about sixty nowadays. He’s shown as having three kids, names redacted until they’re of age. Bet two of those are you. Means he either has a bio kid, or he did this three times?! Are you fucking kidding me, this man is insane, he must be as strong as Dumbledore! Where’s this guy been that we haven’t heard of him?”
Ginny flopped into a chair and slammed her head on the table, Harry half a step behind her as he stared up, dazed.
“Explains the parseltongue, at least,” Hermione said, mustering strength, “by why you two?”
“Diary,” Ginny croaked.
Ron frowned. “But wasn’t that the diary of… no fucking way.”
“Language,” Hermione admonished, “she must be talking about another diary!”
Harry suddenly sat up straight. “It can’t be him. He hurt me literally two months ago, in the graveyard!”
“Someone catch me up,” Sirius frowned, “who’s this guy and how did he hurt you, Harry?”
Ginny grabbed her paper and a quill and wrote out Tom Marvolo Riddle, then wrote out the anagram, crossing out letters as she went. She shoved it in Sirius’ direction, and he paled.
“What?! The Dark Tosser?!”
“This is gonna be so fun to explain to mum,” Ginny giggled weakly.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. “The letter.”
“What about it?”
“He clearly knew who we were, since it was addressed to us, and he went through the trouble of using a pseudonym.”
Ginny grimaced. “Not really, he is technically Lord Gaunt. That’s just probably the least suspicious name he could have picked.”
“But the letter said he wanted to meet us and be a better parent.”
“Clearly a trap.”
“So we do nothing?”
She snorted. “Unless you want to see if he forgot to take us out of the vaults. We could just drain him dry.”
“Gaunt were famously poor,” Sirius cut in with a weak voice, “they were destitute. How’d he fuck this up, every old family knows what a horcrux is?”
Ginny mulled that over before pivoting. “Why’d Harry get Slytherin,” she whined, “I deserve it for my ordeal! You don’t think it gave me Gaunt because I’m also poor, do you? Because if so I have several complaints.”
“We need to promise we’re not going to tell anyone else this,” Ron said suddenly, “because I can’t imagine how people will react if they find out. It doesn’t leave us five. Everyone in agreement?”
They nodded.
“We can talk about it amongst ourselves, though, right?” Ginny looked around. “I think I’ll go mad if I can’t commiserate. Especially if the Dark Tosser sends another letter.”
Harry frowned. “Should we send one back?”
“No,” Sirius said immediately, “we already know this is a trap.”
They all nodded and began to clear everything away to be tucked in corners where no one else would find the evidence.
Harry blinked. “I wonder about that third kid, though. What’re they up to?”
Regulus woke up.
Hmm, that wasn’t supposed to happen.
He looked around the room he was in without sitting up. It felt like no time had passed since he’d been drinking the potion and becoming miserable, and he could still feel traces in his system, since he was pale and a little clammy. The bed he was in was quite comfortable, and the blue blanket soft. He slowly sat up, looking around. It looked too nice of a room to be a prison, and it certainly wasn’t any room in Grimmauld. If he was with a Death Eater, that meant they were either playing the long con, or they didn’t know about his betrayal, taking away the soul binding piece and having Kreacher destroy it for him. If it was a member of the Light, that meant his brother had probably vouched for him, foolishly, or again, it was a long con. The chances of it being a muggle were slim, but not zero.
The door opened and a head of perfect coiffed brown hair poked in. The man’s eyes were a deep red, and Regulus tensed. That color was rare. Something about this man was familiar, but not enough to identify him.
“You’re awake.”
He nodded slowly.
The man stepped the rest of the way in and pulled out a wand. Regulus didn’t untense, but did breathe an internal sigh of relief. Wizard, then. Alignment still to be determined.
“I’m casting a diagnostic,” the man said smoothly, “as you’ve been asleep for… quite a long time.”
“Did your monitoring charms not tell you enough?”
The man gave him an unimpressed stare and flicked his wand. Powerful, then, to do a diagnostic wordlessly, or a healer.
He hummed. “Tansy.”
A house elf popped in with a tray of foods that were easy to eat, from soft bread to a simple soup, with a few potions vials. She set the tray on the bedside table and wide eyes stared at Regulus for a moment before she popped away again. The man gestured at the food and then sat in an armchair in the corner.
“It would be foolish of me to poison you when I rescued you,” he said flatly, “so feel free to eat.”
Regulus still paused, but eventually took some of the bread, dipping it in the soup. It smelled amazing.
The man let him eat in silence for a few minutes before he slouched out of his pureblood perfect posture and blew out a gusty sigh.
“So. I fucked up.”
Regulus suppressed a snort. “Did you now? How? Also, might I be introduced?”
The man blinked. “Um. Well. I’m currently going by Lord Gaunt, for ease.”
“Did we know each other?”
“You could say that. We were on the same side, then the opposite side. And now we’re on the same side again… I’m explaining this horribly, right, okay. What do you know of horcruxes?”
Regulus’s head snapped up. “It’s a foul creation designed for immortality. You split your soul and place it in an object, and then you live as long as it is there.”
The man threw his hand out. “That’s what I thought too! We must have interpreted the text the same way, but apparently that isn’t the case at all! They do make you live longer, but it’s apparently because the family magics circulate nicely and extend your lifespan. The healthier the family magics, the longer the family members live. Not immortality at all.”
Regulus frowned. “Then what’s the point of them? How do they circulate the magics?”
Lord Gaunt cleared his throat and looked away. “Ahem, well, they’re an extra step in the soul adoption ritual. Apparently. So if an underage individual touches a horcrux, they get… adopted.”
Regulus paled and quickly tried to remember the date. His birthday had been in a couple of days, hadn’t it?
Wait. But it had been the Dark Lord’s-
“So, son,” Lord Voldemort coughed awkwardly, “welcome back from the dead. It’s been… close to seventeen years, for you? You weren’t actually dead, of course, my inferi seemed to recognize the part of my soul you were busy circulating and absorbing, so they just kept you safe in a long…watery…nap. Yes.”
Regulus felt perfectly justified in throwing the bowl of soup at the Dark Lord’s head.
He let it drip for a moment, blinking in bewilderment, before he scowled and scourgified it away. “Don’t throw a tantrum,” he grumbled, “I didn’t want this any more than you did. Do you know who else I’ve apparently adopted? Harry bloody Potter, my supposed prophesied enemy. And now I can’t kill him because he’s my son! And I didn’t exactly want to be a parent, especially not to three teenagers-”
“Three? Who’s the third one?”
“Ginerva. A Weasley.”
Regulus couldn’t help it. He snickered.
Ginny scowled suddenly. “Someone’s making fun of me.”
“Wasn’t me,” Harry said instantly, “not even in my head.”
“I know,” she rolled her eyes, “you know better. Ron?”
Ron snorted. “Not on my life. I also know better.”
Ginny leaned her head back. “Twins?”
“Not a chance,” they chorused.
She pursed her lips. “Felt like it was from a brother.”
Harry blinked. “Could be…?”
Ginny met his eyes and her eyes flashed in realization, but she just hummed. “Percy’s not that stupid, and Bill knows he has a pass, but only when I’m there to actively retaliate. Guess I’m killing Charlie.”
“Ginny,” Molly scolded.
“Sorry mum. Guess I’m cursing Charlie.”
“Hmph.”
Ginny grinned and winked at Harry. “Mum’s given up,” she said conspiratorially, and he snickered back.
“Eat up, Harry,” Molly bustled around the table, “your trial is soon.”
“And why’d you have to wake the rest of us up,” Ron grumbled, “s’not like we’re going.”
“To support your friend!”
“Not sure how much support they’re going to be from the warded safehouse,” Harry snorted, and Ron flashed him a smile. He’d pretty much forgiven them by now.
“Up you get, Harry,” Arthur smiled down at him, “time to go to make sure we’re early. I’ll show you around my office beforehand, hmm?”
“Sounds good, Mr. Weasley.”
They bundled off for the trial and ended up having to run when they got the memo about the time change, and they were out of breath when Harry slipped into Courtroom Ten.
The trial was a complete farce, taking into account practically nothing, but then Dumbledore swept into the room, giving his mediocre defense.
“As young Harry’s guardian-”
“Well,” Umbridge harrumphed, “we’ll be checking on that, yes? You have so many other responsibilities after all. Wouldn’t want your concern for the Boy-Who-Lived to get… out of hand.”
“By all means,” Dumbledore waved his hand, “you will find what I already know.”
Madam Bones sent off a memo, and they waited the two minutes it took for the records room to get back to them. She opened the paper and adjusted her monocle.
“Harry Potter’s guardian is Lord Gaunt.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the half second it took to absorb this information before the room erupted and Harry looked anywhere but Dumbledore.
“How could this be,” Fudge yelled, “when did this happen? There hasn’t been a Lord Gaunt in a century!”
“I vote to overturn the motion to expel,” a pale faced Lord Nott said, “immediately.”
“My boy,” Dumbeldore said softly, sternly, “did you know of this? Do you know who that is?”
“Professor,” Harry said dully, “do you know what a horcrux is?”
Dumbledore instantly seemed to age another ten years. “How did you come to know that word, my boy? I had hoped to spare you from the reality as long as possible, to preserve your childhood…”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “It’s… unexpected to be sure, but there are some benefits. Namely, any of the Death Eaters in the know falling over themselves to leave me alone,” he shrugged in the direction of where Nott Senior was furiously telling his cohort something and they were all paling rapidly.
Madam Bones banged her gavel several times until people quieted down. She raised a single eyebrow at them. “If you’re quite done,” she said dryly, “we will move to the verdict. All those in favor of expulsion, raise wands. And those against. A clear majority, thank you. Mr. Potter, enjoy your freedom, and my niece will see you at school.”
Dumbledore bustled them out of the courtroom, brushing past Arthur and taking them both to Grimmauld as soon as he could get to the apparition point.
“How’d it go,” Sirius looked torn between being supportive and hopeful, “expelled? Harry looks pretty happy, but you, Dumbledore, look a little morose.”
“Were you the one to notice and tell him, Sirius?”
Sirius blinked. “What? Tell him what?”
“The horcrux thing,” Harry shrugged, “he’s being really upset about it. Oh, I’m not expelled, by the way, they looked up my guardian and half of the people trying to convict me made an abrupt about face.”
Sirius snorted. “Guess he’s good for something. What’s the issue with the horcrux? Also, should we be having this conversation in the hallway?”
“It is a great and terrible thing, to be a horcrux,” Dumbledore intoned, “they are not meant to be people. It is a terrible burden you have put upon the shoulders of your godson, Sirius.”
Sirius squinted. “But… he’s not a horcrux. He was given one.”
Dumbledore frowned. “That very much makes him a horcrux. If you wish to debate language, it could be said that his scar is the horcrux, instead of Harry himself.”
Harry recoiled. “Aw, it was when he tried to kill me? How the hell does trying to kill me and murdering my parents turn into an adoption ritual?!”
Dumbledore stilled. “An… adoption ritual?”
Sirius snapped his fingers. “You have one of the bad translations. Mother found one of those and made fun of it for ages. I’m assuming… oh, that means the Dark Tosser probably found the bad translation too, that’s hilarious and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense.”
“I would have you explain, perhaps in the library?”
Sirius shrugged. “Sure, that’s where the good translation is.” They moved quickly up the stairs. “Okay, so the bad, misleading, but still technically correct translation is that it “extends a wizard’s life” and some people assume it makes them immortal, because they see “split your soul” and “extended life” and make bad conclusions. It extends your life because you're circulating young magic and adding to the family, which makes you stronger and makes you live longer. The ritual is just… really hard. I guess murder would pay some of the cost, though, using murders in rituals is olde magic with an e. Dark, sure, but he is the Dark Tosser. Here, this is the good one.”
Dumbledore read it over once, twice, and then three times, before sitting back in a plush armchair heavily with a dazed look on his face.
“Oh my.”
Sirius snorted. “Yeah. If he registers as Harry’s actual guardian, it means the portion he gave over by accident is fully absorbed and sent back.”
“Wait,” Harry frowned, “if this happened when I got my scar, as a baby, why didn’t it absorb earlier?”
Dumbledore coughed. “I assumed it was malignant and isolated it using your mother’s love.”
Harry blinked. “And then in the graveyard, why did it hurt for him to touch me?”
Sirius made a surprised noise. “That’s right. If I had to guess? Since he could break through Lily’s protection, his soul bit could as well and rushed through the whole process really fast, since it’d just been sitting there for fourteen years. Usually it happens over time, but if you had it rush all at once…”
“I have several things to think on,” Dumbledore stood, “I must be off. Thank you for giving me your translation, Sirius. Might I borrow the book?”
“No, it doesn’t leave the estate. Family thing.”
“Ah, I see. Very well, my memory will have to suffice. Good day, Sirius, Harry.”
Ginny slipped into the room a minute after Dumbledore had left. “Had to tell the twins, we were listening with an Ear. Course, they think it's brill and are lamenting being seventeen already. I told them they should shack up with either you or whoever the third kid is.”
“Oh goodie, being married off already.”
“Wait,” Sirius sat up, “the third kid! D’you think he had a bio kid, or are we thinking it’s another horcrux? Merlin, three. Say what you want about the Tosser, but he’s damned powerful if that’s true. Especially if one of them had been sitting out… hang on. Ginny, you got the diary in your first year? Just three years ago? When the man was discorporated?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, why?”
Sirius boggled for a moment before scrambling for a book and turning back to the page. “That means that at best the chunk of soul was floating around for eleven years, assuming he made it before the one Harry got. That’d be enough to drive anyone insane. Wait, and if he had more than one, but the souls didn’t circulate back, then each soul piece would stagnate, and souls really don't like being in objects…”
“Fifty years,” Ginny offered with wide eyes, “the memory said he’d been stuck in the diary for fifty years.”
Sirius gave a strangled sound. “Fif- okay. Okay. I hate to say “no wonder he tried to kill you” but also, no wonder he tried to kill you. He’d have been… how old, your age? Fifteen? Sixteen? And he made a fucking- good fucking Merlin. Don’t repeat those words.”
They obligingly locked their mouths.
“I’m starting to think the only reason we didn’t lose the first war is because he’d already lost at least half his soul. Since Gin’s been adopted, that’s a majority of his soul back, even if he… and I hate to say it, but even if he made more than three.”
“I mean,” Harry said slowly, “if he made more than three, wouldn’t there be more kids?”
Ginny snorted. “As if. If he thought it was this tool for immortality, he’d have hidden them all, yeah? The only reason the diary came in contact with a kid is because Mr. Malfoy wanted to get rid of it, otherwise it would have sat on a shelf until some hapless Malfoy brat picked it up and got himself adopted. Oh, can you imagine?”
“You know,” Sirius said thoughtfully, “I guess it is technically an immortality device if used that way. Because some of your soul is still floating around out there, you can’t pass on entirely. Could be why the Dark Tosser floated around as a wraith for a decade instead of just kicking it. Poor guy, sounds just as bad as Azkaban.”
“No bonding with the Dark Tosser,” Harry pointed at his godfather, “I refuse.”
Sirius snorted and waved him off. “No worries there. Just because he has a technical partial claim on you doesn’t mean I’m going to give up. He’d need to have a lot more of a hold over me and mine before I wouldn’t try to kill him on sight.”
“Right, he’s still the Dark Tosser. By the way, have I mentioned I love that name? Thank you, step-godfather.”
Sirius doubled over. “Oh, Gin, you’re a delight. Yeah, alright, step-goddaughter. Now come on, I’m sure Ron and Hermione don’t want to run interference on the twins forever. Oh, d’you think they’d be willing to help prank a return letter? Really stick it to the Dark Tosser, you know? A good ol’ fuck off, you’re not my dad. Classic, that is."
Harry snorted. “I’m sure they’d be more than willing to collaborate on you for anything, Padfoot.”
“Ha! Point. Come on then, not that much longer before your fifth and fourth years start. Wonder what drama you’ll get up to then.”
“Hello Harry Potter,” Luna Lovegood sang as he and Ginny sat in the compartment, Ron and Hermione disappearing to the prefect’s cabin, “are you enjoying being a sibling?”
Harry blinked, but Ginny just shrugged, so he didn’t panic. “Yeah. Kinda curious about who the third is.”
Luna smiled. “A different sort of lion, I’m sure. Perhaps a noble one? Oh, but lions don’t like to swim. Perhaps he’d prefer a tiger, then, they do enjoy swimming quite a bit.”
“Uhhhh…”
“No clue,” Ginny said cheerfully, “Luna says lots of fun things I have no idea what they mean until much later. Hopefully this means a Gryffindor, then, because that would just be… really funny. Like, really really funny. For obvious and objective reasons.”
“For obvious and objective reasons,” Harry nodded, “well, it’s nice to formally meet you, Luna. What’re you reading?”
“My daddy wrote an article on a wandering Naga, who made nest space for seven different creatures, all different ones, that it picked up on its travels by accident. It’s much happier now, of course, but it’s also quite confused. And, according to the article, one of the creatures might even be a crumple horned snorkack! I’m quite excited. Maybe I’ll be able to go to the nest one day, to see one. Daddy’s chasing down one of the leads right now. Oh, the crossword puzzle looks difficult. Ginny, would you like to help me?”
Ginny leaned over. “Sure. Upside down, still?”
“Oh yes, the clues are all upside down anyway.”
Harry pulled out his own book, one Sirius had dug up on parseltongue and parselmagic. He wasn’t super happy with the hissing that Harry and Ginny sometimes slipped into, but he reasoned it was Slytherin and Gaunt family magic, which they now had, so he’d be supportive. Why the Black library even had this book was not explained, but Sirius hadn’t known either, and Harry wasn’t complaining. The book was kind of interesting, anyway, reading as more of a diary of one Sashela Slytherin, the great niece of Salazar himself. She was a lot better at potions than Harry was, but he was learning a lot from her experiments.
Neville came and sat with them as well, showing off his plant that covered them in stinky sap, but Harry tried holding his wand and hissing “clean” and the sap had disappeared just in time for Cho Chang to poke her head in.
She wrinkled her nose. “Do you smell that?”
The scent was mostly gone, so the four of them shook their heads with an exchanged glance.
“Oh, okay,” she shrugged, “I just wanted to say hi, Harry.”
He smiled back. “Hi.”
She hung awkwardly in the door for a moment before ducking her head and mumbling goodbye. As soon as the door closed, Ginny snickered.
“Bro,” she chortled, “that was so bad. Why didn’t you say anything else?”
“She… said she just wanted to say hi?”
“You’re useless, I can’t believe we’re related.”
“How could you disown me that quickly?! Also, you can’t disown me!”
“Mine was first so clearly I’m the oldest one, that means I can.”
Neville leaned over to Luna as the two continued bickering.
“Do… do you know what they’re talking about?”
Luna patted him on the knee. “Don’t worry, Neville, you’ll find out later.”
He blinked at her, then shrugged, pulling out a herbology book.
“Why is cousin Bella in Azkaban?”
Gaunt didn’t even look up from his reports. “She tortured the Longbottoms into insanity.”
Regulus gaped for a moment. “She what?!”
Finally, the Dark Lord blinked up. “Oh. Hmm, that’s bad, isn’t it? They’re purebloods and everything, light or no. Don’t they have a son? Oh no, he’s been without his parents all this time. Should he get reparations…?”
Regulus stared as the Dark Lord (former?) worked it out aloud, before he hummed and nodded, pulling out a new piece of parchment. “Stay here, I’m heading to Narcissa’s, I think she has control over Bella’s vaults. Poor child. Being an orphan is awful.”
Regulus pursed his lips. Mission accomplished, he guessed? And he knew Bella was always unhinged, but this just proved it. Maybe she could stay in Azkaban…
The goblin in charge of the Lestrange vaults looked over the missive impassively. Reparations for taking Heir Longbottom’s parents away from him, in the form of artifact or monetary compensation up to an appropriate value as determined by the goblins. How generous. She looked over the ledger of artifacts listed and paused on one in Bellatrix’s dowry vault.
Well, she had taken the boy’s parents away…
The second day at Hogwarts, a stately looking owl flew to Neville’s spot at the table. He frowned at the seal, but took the offered letter and shrunken package.
“What’s up, Nev,” Ginny said around her waffle, “looks important. Anything wrong?”
“Gringotts is paying me reparations for the…loss of my parents from the Lestrange vaults. Said it was requested by the person in charge of them…?”
He opened the shrunken package and lifted out the golden cup. “Fancy… wait, are these… badgers?”
Smith stood up at the Hufflepuff table. “Longbottom! Is that Hufflepuff’s Cup?! Where did you get that?! That was stolen from my family ages ago!”
Neville rolled his eyes. “The Lestranges had it. The goblins gave it to me. It’s mine now.”
Smith sputtered for a moment before his housemates pulled him back down and Neville went back to inspecting the cup as Umbridge walked over, only to be waylaid by Professor Sprout.
“I’m going to be honest,” he admitted, “I was probably just going to let this collect dust somewhere or donate it to Hogwarts, but now I think I have to keep it and use it often, if only to make Smith mad.”
“Neville,” Hermione scolded, “that’s mean!”
“Nah, just petty. He’s kind of a dick. Hey, do you think he’d be offended if I drank pumpkin juice out of it?”
Turns out, the answer was a resounding yes.
The following day, Luna flounced to the Ravenclaw table wearing a diadem.
“The house elves had to remove a few curses for me,” she said, “but I didn’t want to wait any longer. Besides, Daddy’s sending me something at dinner!”
The Ravenclaw table was practically frothing at the mouth, but by dinner they’d all calmed down. Luna reported that the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw was wearing her diadem again, and Professor Flitwick had warded it tightly so no one would steal it. A very confused toucan dropped a package off with Luna and she squealed.
“My present came,” she said when she walked over to the Gryffindor table, clutching it tightly, “and I want… you! Catch!”
Hermione jumped in surprise, but caught the ring. “Luna! What were you thinking?”
“It was an underhanded toss,” Luna protested, “and it’s not even fragile, it’s a ring!”
Hermione huffed, “Oh, alright, Luna. It’s very nice. You said your father sent it to you?”
She nodded seriously. “The nargles made sure he didn’t touch it before he removed the curses. And I already had one, so I got to pick the last! Second to last.”
Harry frowned. “Second to last…what?”
Luna started humming. “Diary, ring, diadem, locket, cup, snake, scar. Seven.”
Hermione gaped. “Luna. You. Did. Not.”
She sighed gustily and sat down to drape herself all over Ginny. “Neville got one and I was jealous.”
Ginny counted off on her fingers. “Locket and snake. One of those has to be the other one. Blimey, Snuffles is going to lose his mind. Seven.”
“Oh, all at once, too, if that order’s right,” Harry pointed out, “because the third was also blurred out, so that means they were underage too. And mine’s last. So… gosh, how much soul did he have left at the end?”
Ginny snorted. “I'm not good at maths, you figure it out.”
Hermione counted off on her fingers. “Two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty two, sixty four, hundred and twenty eight. He had a hundred and twenty eighth of a soul. That’s less than a whole percent.”
“Oh that’s terrifying,” Harry said firmly, “and now he has most of that back? Bar something like… Luna, which one does he have left?”
She shrugged. “Sixty fourth, I think. Snake.”
“Okay, so bar a sixty fourth of soul, he’s all good again? Yeah, Snuffles is going to explode.”
Ginny slowly grinned. “I think we should send an introductory letter to dear old dad, don’t you think? Let him get to know the rest of his kids. Ask who our other sibling is.”
“Tell him to murder Umbridge,” Ron muttered.
Hermione smacked him, but didn’t do more than roll her eyes.
Neville took a long sip of pumpkin juice from Hufflepuff’s Cup and ignored Smith’s strangled cry with a reflexive smirk. “So, I’m being adopted by You-Know-Who? Because he ordered his top follower to pay me reparations, and the goblins decided to send me his horcrux. Why did the Lestranges even have a horcrux, was he going to adopt their kid?”
Hermione threw up her hands with a groan. “Did everyone know about this but us?”
He shrugged. “Sacred 28 got their name because our ancestors did the soul adoption ritual. Meant we were strong. Used to be that Potters and Longbottoms would soul adopt each other’s kids, but we definitely kept up the practice of adopting muggleborns. Harry, your mum was almost adopted by my Gran, actually.”
“Why?”
“Apparently my dad thought she was really cool, and since your dad had been chasing her around for forever, it would give her a tie that wasn’t Potter, since there’s a wedding bond you can do that shares the family magic. Plus it would make her really well respected and help her job prospects. The war kicked up before they could do it, though, so our parents just promised they’d adopt each other’s kids.”
Harry slowly smiled, just a tiny nervous thing. “So we were always going to be brothers?”
Neville beamed nervously. “Yeah. Can’t say I’m a huge fan of the extra father I got , though. You should really look into that.”
“How am I supposed to do anything about that?”
“You’re the Boy-Who-Lived, you figure something out.”
“This sibling banter has gotten really comfortable really fast,” Hermione furrowed her brow, “is that a byproduct of the ritual? We just got our soul pieces, and it takes at least a month to assimilate, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe I just think Neville’s really cool,” Harry sniffed, “and now I have an excuse to tell him. Ever think of that?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been an only child all my life. I think I’d quite like to go back to that, actually.”
“You don’t mean that,” Luna sang, “now you’ll never be lonely again! Christmas is going to be so fun.”
“Well, I’m sending a letter,” Ginny grinned, “and I’m going to tell pops all about his wonderful gaggle of goons. Forge! Gred! We’re sending another letter!”
The twins perked up down the table. “Another one?! Oh Gin,” “you shouldn’t have!”
Regulus watched the snowy owl land on the back of his… urgh, father’s chair and imperiously hold out a foot. Since the last time she’d come, Lord Gaunt had been cursed pink and sparkly for the entire day, quacking in every other sentence, he took it with no small measure of trepidation and opened it pointed away from his face. When not even a puff of smoke came out, he slowly pulled it back and began to read.
Regulus kept an eagle eye on the man as he read and noticed that whatever it was, it had him rapidly paling.
“S-six?!”
As if a keyword had been met, slime erupted from the letter, coating him all down his front. He blinked through the muck at the pristine, innocent looking letter, and then up at Regulus, who held out a hand.
The letter was passed over and he read it himself, keeping it angled in an attempt to ensure that it wouldn’t go off again. It was unlikely, especially since it seemed like it was triggered by a word.
Dear Pops,
You might be thinking to yourself, why is your lovely new daughter sending you another letter, after the last one articulated oh-so-clearly why she would never be doing that? Simple, I have excellent news!
You now have SIX children!
That’s right, six! Course, you still haven’t told us the other one, and as eldest-by-soul I demand you do so. Us kidnapping victims need to stick together, eh? I’m pretty sure it’s a brother, and Nev and Harry need more support, so it’ll be good for them.
Speaking of, I have taken it upon myself to introduce your new kids! Yay! So the goblin reparations went to Neville Longbottom, and he’s awesome, he’s a Gryffindor (haha) and he’s a whiz at Herbology, like really, super good with plants; I’m half convinced that one day he’ll walk in with a pet Devil’s Snare in his pocket like that’s normal, you’ll love him. He was the cup, obviously, and he’s currently using it to drink pumpkin juice to irritate Smith, who I think you originally stole it from? His family, anyway. He’s infuriated, and we’re all pretty pleased about it.
Obviously you know of Harry since you try to kill him all the time, which, rude, that’ll have to stop. But you don’t know Harry, so I’ll do my solemn duty and formally introduce him. He’s a bit of a scamp, but he’s damn good at DADA (gee, wonder why…) and he’s wicked on a broom. Terrifying, a bit, because he’ll do a lot of crazy stunts to get the snitch, but eh, he wins unless he’s attacked. By you. Or dementors. You know how it goes!
Obviously you know me, Ginny, duh, best Weasley and now Gaunt, thanks for that. Your soul fragment tormented me in my first year and almost killed me because of your bad translating skills! It was super offensive and I want reparations in the form of things that will make Smith upset as well! Anyway I’m really good at hexes and have six older brothers who would probably kill for me. You can’t have Ron, he’s Harry’s best friend and Luna and I are about 80% certain he’ll want to marry Hermione eventually.
Which is a problem, because Hermione is another one of your kids now, yeah. That ring you left lying around, Luna’s dad found it and Luna wanted another sister, I’ll get to her next. Hermione is called the brightest witch of her age, and boy can she prove it. She also has a habit of lighting bad professors on fire, so we’re holding out for Umbridge to go up like a torch, don’t worry I’ll talk about her later too. She’s book smart and has really intense control of her magic so basically she’s the eagle Gryffindor, we’re all probably missorts of one type or another unless you’re Neville, again, he’s great, if you’re mean to him we’ll kill you.
Luna is the one who tossed Hermione the ring, apparently she figured out what was going on and got jealous, so she went and found Ravenclaw’s diadem in the castle somewhere. Still not sure where, and she refuses to tell us. She’s our resident Ravenclaw, and she sees stuff that isn’t there, but has weird insights that work out great, and totally knew what you were doing. She’s a little crazy, but again, if you’re mean to her we’ll kill you. Mostly me!
So yeah, introduce us to our sixth sibling and maybe watch your snake (Luna, again) and don’t let Luna pick our last sibling! But also don’t leave your soul piece to fester again, they get murderous when you do that.
Speaking of murderous, last thing, but if you still have some sway, could you get rid of Umbridge? She’s the DADA teacher this year and let me tell you, so far she’s the worst one yet, and we had Lockhart. Plus, Harry and the rest had you on the back of Quirrell’s head, so obviously we’re being dead serious when we say she’s awful. We’ve somehow managed to avoid detention thus far, but I wouldn’t hold my breath, half your kids are delinquents.
Again to reiterate, you have SIX CHILDREN now and we fully expect Christmas presents.
Thanks Pops,
Ginny
Regulus snorted. “I like her. I’m sending a letter back.”
Voldemort sighed. “Do what you wish. Ugh, Hedwig, stop.”
The bird, Hedwig apparently, was preening the man’s hair and snapping at his fingers any time he tried to push her away.
He got to drafting his letter and let the beautiful bird carry it back to the castle.
“Wait,” his father said suspiciously, “what did you send back?”
He slowly smirked.
“Anyway, I’m going to go back to my room.”
“Regulus.”
“All these new books that came out in the seventeen years I spent being dead.”
“Regulus.”
“Sorry, the long watery nap.”
“Son.”
“Have a goodnight, “Pops!””
Ginny dragged Luna over to the table when Hedwig came back with a letter. Hermione dutifully checked it for curses and poisons, and then checked it for any spells. When she was satisfied, she allowed Harry to take the letter.
Ron sighed. “What’d he say?”
Harry frowned. “The handwriting is different…” his eyes scrolled to the bottom before they widened. “Sirius is going to shit himself,” he hissed to Ginny, and Ron snapped his fingers a few times.
“Oi, oi, what did we say about parsel at the table?”
Hermione frowned. “Why would Snuffles be mad about a letter from…”
“Wait, you’re in contact with your…”
She and Neville spoke at the same time and Luna pouted while Ginny gave a minor cheer.
“Place your bets,” she crowed, “I bet Hermione’s Slytherin!”
“We’ll check families later,” Harry insisted, “Mione, look!”
He pointed at the end of the letter and she choked on spit.
Luna smiled. “A very peculiar lion indeed.”
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. “Regulus is a star in the Leo constellation. I thought his brother was dead? And only a year younger than Snuffles? But his name was still blurred out on the registry when we checked, that means he was underage!”
“Stasis, then,” Ron pointed out, “magical accidents happen. And he supposedly disappeared before he was 17, right?”
Neville shuddered. “I heard the pureblood houses were pissed about it at the time. Si…Snuffles had already been essentially disowned and had disavowed having children, so Reg… the lion was House Black’s last hope save for adoption, which everyone knew they weren’t powerful enough to do that or they would have already.”
“Cool, don’t care,” Ginny waved him off, “what’s the letter say?”
Harry cleared his throat and read it out loud so just the six of them could hear it.
Dear Ginny,
I’ve always wanted a sister, but I’m afraid if we’re not using our actual ages to determine the oldest and youngest, then we’re using age of adoption, and unfortunately that means I’m first, then Harry, then you, then the rest in whatever order Luna managed to get them.
To Neville, terribly sorry you got dragged in, I was asking where my cousin was and apparently dearest father only just realized that what happened to your parents was an atrocity. I guess the goblins thought it would be funny/poetic justice? Very much a fan of you mocking whoever this Smith character is, by the way, he sounds like a puffed up idiot. Fitting, I suppose.
To Luna, I would call you my favorite sister already, but also this letter is addressed to Ginny, and something tells me it’s safer that way, so settle for second. Maybe third, I haven’t actually met any of you yet, obviously. Still, looking forward to meeting you.
To Hermione, speaking of, I hear you like books. I have seventeen years of catching up to do, if you know any of the newer releases that are good, please let me know. I'm rather fond of learning, and I’m sure there have been some interesting advancements in the almost two decades since I checked last.
To Harry, your dad was kind of a git. Sorry he’s dead, though.
In other news, if you have a problem professor and aren’t against setting them on fire, I’m sure you can work something out with whoever cursed that letter. Maybe something she says, but on a time delay so she doesn't catch on and stop saying it? If she starts picking on one of you, though, tell “Pops” and he’ll sort it out. It seems like he really is trying out this whole parent thing, and has pretty much given up the whole Dark Lord goal of taking over wizarding Britain. Who knew the way to defeat an evil bastard was to make him a parent responsible for six children?
I haven’t seen the snake yet, but I’ve heard about her. Stay safe, and I’m pretty sure Papa Snake will be inviting all of you for Christmas. He snatched your letter back from me and is looking a little manic right now, so I think he’s going to want to see you all in person before too long. Best of luck, but also he hasn’t tortured me once. I’m cautiously optimistic.
Your brother,
Regulus Arcturus Riddle-Black
Ginny let out another cheer at the closing. “We have a Riddle! I was wondering about that, because Mione should still have Granger, yeah? Which would mean that Pops would still get Riddle! Mione, do you remember the recipe for the potion? I want to check everyone else.”
She sighed. “I do. It shouldn’t take too long, I suppose. Do you want to help?”
“Actually,” Harry cut in, “can I? Snuffles gave me this parsel book from Salazar’s great niece and I’ve learned a lot about potions. I want to see if I’m any better in real life.”
Ron snorted. “Potions wasn’t an indication?”
“Snape literally despises my existence,” Harry rolled his eyes, “he’ll mark me down no matter what. And you know Malfoy keeps throwing things in my cauldron, or getting one of his gargoyles to do it.”
Neville snorted pumpkin juice out his nose, sputtering a little. “Gar goyle? Harry!”
“Thank you, thank you, I’m here all night.”
“No you’re not,” Luna pointed out cheerfully, “because dinner’s almost over!”
They all scrambled to finish eating and ducked off to bed.
The next day, Hermione dragged Harry to Myrtle’s bathroom early and had him sit and watch, reading off the recipe for her. He’d messed up once, but she’d shown that she’d read the recipe ahead of time, because she’d only raised an eyebrow and asked if he was sure. Soon, ten doses of the green potion were ready for them.
“Why ten,” he said as he helped her pack them away, “Ginny and I’ve already checked, and then there’s only you three, right?”
“Curiosity,” she shrugged, “and we can see if things have changed. Or test other people who want it. Sirius wasn’t wrong to try and get a baseline first, so we could see what a Weasley was meant to look like, in Ginny’s case.”
Neville dragged Ron to the breakfast table early so they could use their potions and pour them onto parchment before the food started showing up in droves. There were still some breakfast foods on the tables, but not the veritable feast it would be during peak breakfast hours.
Neville sighed. “Gaunt. I’m with you, Ginny. Just Gaunt and Longbottom. Still majorly Longbottom, but I imagine that if we did this again in a month, Gaunt would be bigger.”
Luna smiled down at her sheet and held it to her chest. “It’s a riddle, isn’t it? Like the password to the tower!”
“I don’t buy that for one minute,” Ginny declared, “but alright. Mione?”
“Slytherin.”
“Called it!”
“Hem hem.”
They all straightened and held the parchment pieces carefully, angled in a way that she couldn’t see them.
Umbridge smiled down at them. “Might I ask what you are doing, children?”
“Potion’s homework,” Hermione gestured at the empty vials on the table, “or rather, extra credit. We were hoping to show Professor Snape our knowledge of an older potion.”
Umbridge's smile pursed a little. “Oh? And what potion would that be?”
“The precursor to the Wiggenweld Potion,” she said without skipping a beat, “we’re comparing recipes right now. We want to figure out what made the color different, and if that’s related to the change in effects.”
Umbridge nodded reluctantly. “I see. Well, keep up the good work. The theoretical knowledge will look simply wonderful on your OWL, I’m sure.”
Hermione smiled softly. “Thank you, professor. Have a good day!”
Umbridge toddled off, frowning, but she couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was wrong. Harry smirked and tipped his glass in Hermione’s direction.
“To be fair,” she said primly, “this potion does share half the ingredients of the Wiggenweld. In the complete wrong order, of course, but still.”
Ron chuckled. “Too smart for us. Maybe you are the heir of Slytherin.”
Harry frowned. “I thought I was?”
“I’m older and my horcrux was made sooner.”
“But I got adopted first!”
Hermione shrugged. “We’ll have to check the potions again later and see who has more of the family magic, I suppose. It’s not like we have a good method of telling who’s older according to the family. Now, we probably can’t do this in public again, Umbridge is watching our every move…”
Of course, despite trying their best to keep their heads down (augmented by the fact that Harry knew Voldemort was back but on the verge of not particularly caring and feeling more like he should be laughing whenever it came up, thus making him hard to bait), it seemed Umbridge was determined to catch them at something, or bar that, make something up, and finally she got Harry in a detention.
When he came back that night, his Gryffindor siblings plus Ron were waiting for him and Ginny was the one to grab his hand.
“I’m borrowing Hedwig,” she announced, “and you can’t stop me.”
“Gin it’s not a big deal-”
“Reg said to tell Pops, so we’re going to. Might as well make him good for something.”
Harry threw up his free hand as Hermione cradled it, smearing a smelly paste all over it. “The twins are already pranking her with that dumb “hem hem” that she does all the time, we don’t need to off her-”
“Harry,” Neville said quietly, “it's a Blood Quill. That’s torture. And if she’s doing it to you, chances are she’s doing it to other people. How many people have already served detention with her?”
Harry paused. “Oh. I didn’t even think about that.”
Neville gave a lopsided smile. “I saw Colin with a bandaged hand. I think I know what he was recovering from now.”
White hot anger lanced through all of them briefly before Ron nodded. “Send the letter, Gin.”
She nodded firmly.
The next day at dinner when Umbridge was arrested and an Auror was set to take over the DADA position, the entire school breathed a sigh of relief. Harry met the Headmaster’s eyes briefly, and the man looked torn, before he settled back to his genial smile.
They went into the Hogsmeade weekend with high spirits, not noticing how the Slytherins got tenser and started getting more mail.
Nagini was doing wonderfully, thank you for asking. Master had returned, and had returned to sanity, and now apparently he had hatchlings! He informed her in morose terms that the ritual he had done to live forever actually gave him children instead, and he was panicking about being a good sire, but Nagini knew he would be wonderful and strike at their enemies and teach them to hunt the best prey. He also told her that the bit of himself he’d put in her would also give him another hatchling, so she had to make sure no wizard hatchling touched her, or they’d be his. Nagini didn’t see the problem with this, of course, and was delighted. Master was trusting her to pick out his last hatchling! She would be very good and pick a nice one.
Master was also going around and inspecting his followers. Apparently, some of them had done terrible no good things to hatchlings, including one that was his now. The boy in question was now a “Gaunt,” and Nagini didn’t entirely care, but recognized that as Master’s nestmother’s name, so the hatchlings were becoming real family which was wonderful. And four of them could speak the noble language, so she’d have more people to talk to than the boorish garden snakes and, of course, Master himself.
Still, Nagini liked to go with to inspect the followers and ensure they weren’t doing terrible no good things when Master didn’t want them to anymore, because he recognized that hatchlings were very very important, and she liked to smell their fear. They all smelled like prey and used their whiny human voices to try and flatter Master and Nagini. It did not work.
One day, however, one of the followers, an old man that Master had known in his school days, had his hatchling at home. Nagini knew it was school time, so it must have been a holiday of some sort. She didn’t think the humans were allowed to leave unless it was a holiday or they had special permission.
She listened very closely to the whiny human language and learned that, yes, indeed, the hatchling was supposed to be in the learning place, but the human man had heard that Master was inspecting his followers and wanted to show him off for Master. The hatchling smelt like pain and blood and Nagini got closer to figure out the cause.
The old man smelled a little like blood, she noticed, but also like anger and hatred, so it was more likely that he thought the hatchling was prey. But the hatchling was his hatchling, so why did he treat him like prey?
She listened more, and heard that the hatchling was clever. He was a snake, and he read many books and was quiet. He liked knives and runes, which Nagini remembered were the funny squiggles that were not words but were magic instead, and she had tried to write them with her tail before but it was hard. He was very clever, then, to be good at the squiggly magic not-words. She heard then that the hatchling would soon be “eligible for marriage,” and good for Master’s hatchlings…? The hatchling boy smelled more of fear in this, and of despair. Nagini did not like that smell, but he did seem like a clever smart boy. She had only met the one other hatchling, and he could not speak, but she knew the other hatchlings could. Perhaps this one would too?
“Master,” she hissed, “I have picked out my hatchling.”
He waved her off, still talking to the human follower, but the hatchling froze still. Good, it would be easier to climb him. She slid across the floor and wrapped herself up his body, smelling him. His fear scent did not decrease, but his despair scent was gone. There was a bit of curiosity and excitement now, under the sour smell of fear. She flicked her tongue and let it kiss his skin.
“Nice hatchling,” she hissed, “pretty. Clever and clever, can you speak now? You are Master’s hatchling now, he will not make you smell of fear and pain.”
“Nagini, what did I say about touching young humans?”
“I picked him, Master, he’s yours now. He is clever and quiet and his sire makes him smell of fear. He is a good snake and I like him. See how he does not wobble? He is a good, strong perch, and warm.”
Master rubbed the skin above his eyes. “Nagini, I told you not to touch the young ones. Now I have adopted him accidentally.”
“His sire was poor.”
“His sire is now frightened.”
“Good, he was a poor sire. You are a much better one.”
“Nagini I now have seven children!”
“A large clutch is a healthy sire.”
“I didn’t sire any of them!”
“You did, with magic. Already, this hatchling tastes more like you. We will bring him home, and he can meet the eldest hatchling.”
“Regulus is no longer a hatchling.”
“Star hatchling is small and growing still. He is my hatchling. Like this one. Home now, please.”
Master shook his head, but Nagini did not taste displeasure, only exasperation. He said more words to the hatchlings first sire, but Nagini was not paying attention. She was crooning in the ear of her new hatchling, the one she picked out just for Master, and trying to encourage him to speak. Maybe she needed to speak at him more, so he would learn, like a fresh hatchling. No one had spoken to him through the egg, so this was his egg stage. Or maybe Master’s soul had not settled fully, and he would speak later! Nagini would keep him company until then, and perhaps one day, he would speak. She was holding out hope. In the meantime, he was an excellent tree, not faltering in supporting her weight even when he had to move through the green fire into Master’s nest. Star hatchling did the quiet human laughing when Master told him of his new clutchmate, and Nagini was pulled off to be placed by the fire. She wasn’t terribly pleased with being separated from her hatchling, her clever hatchling, but this would do for now. She would have to teach her hatchling how to hunt, he was much too skinny.
Harry looked up from the newest letter with a look like he was torn between laughing or cringing. He settled on a small chuckle.
“So, good news, no new surprise siblings, apparently Nagini picked one out herself. Bad news. Nagini picked one out herself.”
Ginny glanced over at the Slytherin table. “Theo Nott?”
“How’d you know?”
“Looks shell shocked, and other Slytherins are glancing at him every once in a while. Damn, I was hoping for another girl, now the boys outnumber us.”
Hermione sighed. “Did Regulus tell you anything about how Nagini picked him?”
“According to him, she just sort of climbed him like a tree and said “this one’s perfect” and didn’t bother asking Lord Nott for permission. Also apparently, the reason he was anywhere near Nagini in the first place is because Lord Nott was trying to secure a political connection to Pops through marriage.”
Ginny frowned. “To one of us, right?”
Neville looked a little green. “Merlin, I hope so. Not that that’s an option now. I mean, technically we’re not related by blood, but it’s…really weird.”
“Ew,” Ginny grimaced, “imagine dating Harry. Gross.”
“Aww, thanks Gin!”
“Anytime, Scarhead. So are we including him in Sibling Powwows?”
“Oh yes,” Luna said dreamily, “we’re about at that age.”
Ron narrowed his eyes. “Age for…what?”
Luna smiled. “Dating. Pops is going to go mental.”
Granger let off a soft bang from her wand. “I call this sibling meeting to order. I am Hermione Granger-Slytherin, this is Ginny Weasley-Gaunt, we’re in charge by popular consensus.”
Potter snorted. “You’re in charge because we’re afraid of you.”
Her wand turned slightly and he raised his hands in surrender. “Also by popular consensus.”
Granger smiled. “Thank you. That is Harry Potter-Slytherin, Nevile Longbottom-Gaunt, and Luna Lovegood…Riddle?”
Lovegood smiled and didn’t nod or shake her head.
“Why do you all have different last names?” Theo asked softly.
Granger passed him a potion. “Feed magic into this at lumos level for thirty seconds, then once it’s turned blue, pour it on a parchment. It will tell you what family magic you’re inheriting and give you the last name. He’s Riddle from his father, Gaunt from his mother, and Slytherin from his ancestor.”
“I should really have been Gaunt,” Potter said as Theo fed the potion magic, “but everyone else is a pureblood. You’ll probably be Gaunt or Riddle… what do you like to be called?”
Theo raised an eyebrow.
“Well,” Weasley cut in, “like technically my name is Ginerva, but if anyone calls me that I’ll curse them.”
“Ginny.”
“Hex them, fine, Mione, you’re worse than mum.”
“Does Nott not suffice?”
“It does not,” Luna confirmed, “you’re our dear brother now, and family doesn’t call each other by their last names.”
He shifted for a moment, pouring his potion on the parchment and waiting. He hummed.
“Then call me Theo. Theo Nott-Riddle, apparently.”
“Oh goody,” Luna giggled, “Reg will be pleased he’s not alone.”
Harry squinted at her. “Luna, are you a Gaunt?”
Luna just smiled blankly. “Another boy Riddle,” she sang, “how delightful.”
Ginny cackled. “Still no consensus. I feel like she’s being shifty on purpose, maybe she’s actually Slytherin.”
Neville hissed something at her, and then he, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny got in a parselmouth argument, by the gestures.
Theo leaned over to Luna. “Does this happen often?”
She smiled and blinked at him. “It’s difficult for them to tell. Usually Ronald breaks them up and reminds them to speak English. Hermione, I must say, your lack of faith in me is quite upsetting.”
Hermione’s head whipped around. “Luna, I’m sorry, it doesn’t quite matter, but it’s just good to know.”
Luna got up with a bounce in her step and a hum. “There was always going to be a wildcard anyway. Three names do not divide into seven easily, after all.”
“Wait,” Neville said quietly with a furrowed brow, “did she just respond to the parseltongue?”
“It’s Luna,” Ginny refuted, “that could mean anything. Also it’s not like we were subtle.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever actually know unless someone else tells us,” Harry said thoughtfully.
Luna beamed. “It is a riddle!”
Theo quietly snorted. Perhaps this sibling thing wouldn’t be so bad.
The floo chimed and Marvolo (one of the only non-deplorable names he had and thus the one he was mostly using) absently checked it.
He frowned. “Regulus, do you know who lives at Grimmauld Place?”
His eldest son choked as he veritably tossed the book he was reading across the room.
“Let him in,” he managed to cough out, “oh Merlin please let him in.”
He sounded so desperate that Marvolo of course opened the floo for whoever it was, and it wasn’t until Sirius Black stormed through that he realized that his son was choking because he was laughing.
“YOU!”
Marvolo blinked. “Me? Aren’t you a fugitive?”
“YOU STOLE MY GODSON AND MY BROTHER!”
“Both of those were an accident, I can assure you.”
“SO THEY’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”
“That’s not what I said, they’re both… delightful.”
“YOU HESITATED! YOU’RE GOING TO BE A TERRIBLE PARENT AND THEN THEY’RE GOING TO COME RUNNING BACK TO ME!”
Regulus snorted.
“I’m doing my best,” Marvolo protested, “I got rid of that Ministry toad who tortured Harry and I provide Regulus with all the food and books he could possibly want.”
Sirius faltered for a moment to look at his unaged brother. “That’s true, Reggie does love his books. Is he actually eating regular meals, or are you letting him just read through them?”
“Of course I’m making him eat. Tansy watches and makes sure he eats the snacks she provides. She’s very keen on fattening him up.”
Sirius considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Probably better than what you could do.”
Marvolo had a moment to feel offended, but let it go.
“Are you satisfied, then?”
“Absolutely not.”
He threw up his hands. “I’m not certain what you want from me, Black. They are my children and I’m going to do my best to be a good parent! Yule will likely be the first time I meet some of them as not enemies-”
“Yule? You’re planning on having them over for yule?”
“Of course, it’s a family holiday.”
“Absolutely not, the Weasley’s are staying with me, and obviously Harry and Hermione are coming as well. That’s half your kids already. And I’m taking my brother back.”
“No you’re not! They’re my children, their families have had many years with them already, they’ll spend this holiday break with me. You have no claim over them, you’re none of their guardians.”
Sirius grit his teeth. “Two of them are my brother and godson , I’d like to see you fucking try.”
“Why don’t,” Regulus cut off a perfectly reasoned argument Marvolo was about to make, “we just have everyone come here? Soul adoption keeps old bonds anyway, so it can be a great big celebration of all the families that have been brought together.”
“Reggie, he’s the Dark Tosser! I’m not bringing in half the light to his house, nor am I letting him in mine!”
Regulus snorted. “Siri, you hate that house. If he walked in and destroyed it you’d be pleased beyond belief.”
“It’s also a safehouse for the order and it’s under Fidelius.”
Marvolo snorted. “No it’s not, I got your address from the floo.”
Sirius opened and closed his mouth for several moments before he dropped his head into his hands with a groan. He lifted his head and pointed at Marvolo with a glare. “You’re going to give me permission to come here whenever I want so I can drop in unannounced.”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because I’m not going to trust you with my godson or step godchildren until I know you’re not trying anything nefarious. I’m just going to show up when you least expect it to make sure you’re not sliding back into Dark Tosser territory.”
“If you stop calling me that, I’ll consider it.”
“Oh come on, pops,” Regulus smirked, “it’s not like you’re doing anything particularly evil these days. The ritual sacrifices are now only once a week!”
Marvolo glared as Sirius sputtered in indignation.
“Just because you’re handsome now-”
“Excuse me?!”
Sirius cleared his throat. “Like I was saying, just because you’re human now,” that was not what he’d said, “doesn’t mean I trust you one whit. So. Popping in unannounced.”
Regulus looked at him incredulously. “Siri, are you that bored at home?”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re a fugitive and you’re bored. What, no Ministry chases recently?”
“No, I’m not really allowed out of the house.”
“That’s just sad,” Marvolo interrupted, voice smooth as silk, “of course I’ll let you take refuge in my home. After all, I know you’re entirely innocent.”
“Well, if you’re being so accommodating, I’d also like the opportunity to disembowel a rat.”
Marvolo raised an eyebrow. “That’s murder. I thought you’d be opposed, as one of Dumbledore’s little Order.”
Sirius shrugged. “Served twelve years for murder. Might as well actually commit at least one. They can’t even arrest me for that, I’ve already served my time.”
“That’s definitely not how it works.”
“I’ve never confessed to being well versed in law. I’m a Black, we have people for that.”
“Evidently. Hmm, I suppose I could get you exonerated.”
Sirius blinked, startled. “That’s not what I meant, I literally meant I want to kill Pettigrew.”
“No no, I’m aware,” Marvolo waved him off, “but I’m sure he could escape from his cell en route to Azkaban after he’s been found guilty and you innocent.”
Sirius stared. “I don’t trust you,” he said bluntly, “give me floo access so I can go home.”
Marvolo smiled coyly and moved slightly closer. The other man narrowed his eyes, but didn’t back away. “You could stay for lunch,” he said lightly, “perhaps a stroll around the grounds. It must get so boring and lonely in that old townhouse.”
Sirius visibly waffled as Regulus stepped out of the room, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. Marvolo paid his son no mind.
He lightly placed a hand on the Black’s arm. “So?”
The man visibly swallowed.
Oh yes, he’d get all his children here for yule. He was certain of it.
“POPS IS FLIRTING WITH SIRIUS?! FOR CUSTODY?!”
Winter break was fast approaching. They’d been forced to hang around more Slytherins as Theo brought in his friends Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass, apparently the prominent neutrals in their year of snakes, which meant the Weasley twins also joined them, because apparently if they were allowing non-siblings to join the growing group, that meant partial brothers could also join, especially since Ron hadn’t ever really left unless it was a siblings only meeting. Luna ended up showing them the Room of Requirement when people started complaining about meeting in abandoned classrooms, and the Room made things much more comfortable, with plush couches in jewel tones and a merrily roaring fire.
Currently, Blaise was making Ron work for his chess victories, Theo and Hermione were debating a dark magic book the room had provided, Ginny was tossing mild curses in Daphne’s direction while she and Neville talked about poisonous plants, and Harry was watching the twins enchant mistletoe that Luna was decorating.
“Well Gred, I think we’ve almost gotten it.”
“Is this ethical, Forge?”
“Fair point. Failsafe time.”
“Specific activation requirements-”
“-lessen the compulsion charm-”
“-throw in a back up clause-”
“-and done!”
Harry looked up and squinted. “What did you do?”
“Why Harrykins,” Fred put a hand to his chest, “I’m offended!”
“Well,” George coughed on a laugh, “he has been watching us doing things to it.”
Fred waved him off. “This, my dear Harrykins, is the ultimate mistletoe. Luna said something incomprehensible about nargles being afraid of love-”
“-and of course we know of the kissing under the mistletoe muggle tradition-”
“-so we naturally had to make a version that would trap you until you kissed the other person.”
“As a failsafe,” George waved, “family members are allowed to hug. However, if there’s mutual attraction, it’s not going to be satisfied with a chaste peck.”
“Not in the slightest,” Fred snorted, “it’ll need a full on snog before it’ll let them go. Course, you could just sit there in the trap, and eventually we’d let you out if you really didn’t want to kiss someone.”
“And,” George cut in, “if there’s no attraction, it’ll also let you go. It’s just a fun little thing that might give us some holiday cheer!”
Neville looked up with narrowed eyes, blocking Ginny’s latest curse at Daphne. “Who’d you make it for?”
“The family, of course?”
“No,” Neville prodded, “who did you make it for?”
Fred and George exchanged a glance before George grinned. “Among others,” he said, “your Pops.”
Harry growled. “I’m not letting him-”
“Woah there,” Fred grinned, grabbing Harry’s hand and tugging him into a hug to restrain him, “no violence. Like we said, if there’s no attraction, it’ll release them. It’s just a little bit of fun.”
“Anyone wants to test it,” George leered, “or are we just going to trust our ingenuity and skill?”
Theo snorted. “Not on your life, Weasley.”
“Ah, but which one?”
“Harry told me how to tell you apart, George.”
George reared back with a blink. “What? How can Harry tell?”
“Fred’s eyes are a slightly different color, also he has an extra freckle on his right cheek.”
Fred choked on a laugh. “Spend a lot of time looking into my eyes, Potter?”
“Wha- to tell you apart!”
Ginny rolled her eyes across the room and switched targets to the twins.
Daphne sniffed and went back to petting Neville’s pocket Devil’s Snare.
“He really is a fine specimen,” she said approvingly, “you’ve taken excellent care of him. I’ll bring my Morpheus Orchid with me next time, if you’d like to see?”
Neville nodded several times. “That’d be wonderful, yes.”
Blaise sidled over to Ginny. “You could put more power into that one if you twisted your wrist less.”
“Less?” She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I was doing what the book said.”
“The book says you should use a full turn, when just a half turn will do. It makes it less precise, but you’re not actually aiming for them anyway.”
She slowly smiled as a more powerful blast went off and Fred yelped and swore.
“And,” she said gleefully, “it makes them underestimate my force and means they might underpower their shields!”
Blaise smirked. “That too. Want to learn another one?”
The room shifted to have a line of dummies along one wall in response.
Ron squinted at his siblings before shrugging. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Mione, what’re you reading?”
“It’s a fascinating treatise on the stigma against blood magic-”
And then it was winter break.
Augusta Longbottom was glaring daggers at Thaddeus Nott, which kept her in good company with Nagini, who was currently wrapped around the man’s son. Ginny briefly had a hissed conversation with the snake before snorting and patting the boy on the shoulder, not telling him anything and leaving him quite bewildered. Harry ended up taking pity on him.
“She’s guarding her favorite hatchling,” he called across the room, ignoring how Thaddeus stiffened, “and won’t let the poor sire approach. You’re fine.”
Theo sniffed. “Clearly she has good taste.”
“Hermione, was it?” Xenophilius puttered around and bobbed his head in Hermione’s direction. “The ring looks good on you.”
She smiled dangerously. “I hear I have you to thank for it,” her voice was cool, “but Luna is as much to blame.”
Xeno smiled for a moment, just looking at her. “You don’t take it off.”
She rolled her eyes with a huff, lips pulling up slightly as she twirled it around her finger once. “Of course not. He’s never getting it back.”
“It’s the Gaunt ring,” Marvolo pouted from across the room where he was talking to Augusta and Sirius, “and you’re a Slytherin!”
“It’s also Peverell, if you want to go there,” Harry called back, “so technically it’s my ring.”
“It’s my ring, Luna gave it to me. Finders keepers.”
Ron looked up from beside her. “I’m pretty sure that would mean you’d have to find it. Which means it’s Mr. Lovegood’s ring.”
“Yes,” Hermione said slowly, “but he gave it to Luna and she gave it to me. That means it’s mine.”
“You’re all wonderful people-”
“-I’m sure,” George finished for his twin, “but we just finished-”
“-affixing our delightful creations,” Fred cut back in, “and-”
“-are warning you all now that the mistletoe is indiscriminatory-
“-so get good.”
Theo scrunched up his nose. “George, that isn’t a word.”
George shrugged. “Did you know what it meant?”
“Yes?”
“Then it’s a word.”
“That's not- ugh. Fine. Whatever.”
Marvolo narrowed his eyes. “What did you two put in my house?”
“Aww, Pops,” Regulus smirked, “come on, have some holiday cheer.”
Marvolo took out his wand in response.
Neville rolled his eyes from the window. “It’s just mistletoe, it's only poisonous if you eat the berries. And those will only kill you because Luna covered them in glitter.”
“Accio glitter.”
The kids all groaned as several bushels of glittery mistletoe (and several loose pieces of glitter) came in from all around the house through various doors. One stopped directly over Regulus and Percy and the Black snorted before leaning over and giving Percy a peck on the cheek. The mistletoe continued onward leaving Percy turning bright red and Regulus unconcerned.
Bill whistled. “Get it, Perce!”
Fred clicked his tongue. “I was certain there was mutual attraction there. Damn.”
“Boys,” Molly said dangerously, “what prank did you pull this time?”
“Well we didn’t quite manage it, obviously,” George rolled his eyes, “grandpa over there is a spoilsport.”
Marvolo sighed in exasperation. “First I’m called Pops, then grandpa? Why?”
“Looks or no, you’re certainly old enough to be one,” Sirius sniped.
“Enough,” the man pinched the bridge of his nose, “we’ve done dinner, we’ve had our nightcaps, and I for one am tired and ready for tomorrow morning.”
“Tired of our shit, more like,” Ginny snickered.
Marvolo smiled like he hadn’t heard her. “The sooner you go to bed, the sooner you wake up to presents.”
Regulus sighed and hauled himself up from the armchair. “Well, Percy, looks like we’ll have to finish the game tomorrow then. Grandpa needs his early bedtime.”
The kids all made slightly disparaging remarks poking fun at their (or their friends’) adoptive father as the adults slowly left the room to their appointed guest suites. Marvolo lingered to herd the children to where they themselves were staying, and Sirius chased after Harry as Padfoot, determined to give the boy “good luck kisses” as he called them. The former dark lord waved his wand idly and let the sitting room rearrange itself to look as neat as it had before. He glanced over at the tree with slight fondness, and then at the pile of collected mistletoe with derision. A quick flick had them lit on fire, and another had the ashes banished.
“Good riddance,” he muttered.
He started the walk to his own chambers, slipping past his children’s bedrooms as he went. He turned the corner to his own hallway when a black blur barreled him over. It immediately transformed from a big black dog into a big Black man, who grinned down at him.
“Sorry,” he said, completely unapologetically, “wasn’t looking where I was going. I’ll get out of your hair now. Have I mentioned yet that I’m really glad you decided against keeping the baldness, by the way? The lack of a nose really wasn’t flattering either.”
Marvolo rolled his eyes as they both got to their feet and he brushed himself off, picking off a few strands of fur. “Why were you running? Was my son attempting to get revenge?”
Sirius narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. “My godson, you mean?”
He smiled coyly. “My son, yes.”
Sirius rolled his eyes and went to move around him, but he stopped.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
The other man tried to take another step forward, but found he couldn’t. They exchanged a glance before they both looked up.
There, innocuously above them was a cluster of dark green leaves with white berries, not a single piece of glitter in sight.
“Those little shits,” Sirius sighed, “I’ll have to give them a good wake-up prank.”
He leaned in and quickly placed a peck on Marvolo’s cheek, stepping back. The former dark lord raised an eyebrow as the man practically ricocheted off whatever barrier the mistletoe was enforcing, and instinctively caught him before he could send them to the floor again.
“Those little shits,” this one was much less fond, “I’ll fucking kill them!”
“Do you happen to know the requirements to get out?”
Sirius looked at him. “Vaguely.”
He raised an imperious eyebrow. “Well?”
“We have to kiss.”
“And I’m assuming you don’t mean a kiss on the cheek, as that clearly didn’t work.”
Sirius snorted. “Nope. It depends on,” he swallowed and looked away, “on, erm, levels of attraction.”
Marvolo’s mouth slowly curled up into a very, very smug grin.
“Well,” he purred, leaning in, “if we don’t want to be stuck here all night…”
(Harry, of course, who had been sneaking after his godfather to get revenge, shrieked and sent his siblings careening into the hallway to watch as neither man noticed them at all, until he shrieked again.
“POPS, THIS BETTER NOT BE FOR FUCKING CUSTODY!”
Marvolo rolled his eyes. “Go to bed, children. We’re busy.”
All seven teenagers scrambled into bed, laughing and/or screaming even as Marvolo pulled Sirius further down the hallway.
“My room’s closer.”
“You fucking bastard.”
“Oh? I thought I was the Dark Tosser.”
“You are.”
“Well, you can call me whatever you wish. After all, I’m going to call you mine.”
“Smug fucking powerful bastard. Seven horcruxes, good Merlin…”
“Not the name I would expect you to be calling me, but we’ll get there. Now, where were we?”)