Chapter 1
The events that brought Harry's children into Voldemort's protection were anything but ordinary. It had started with unsettling incidents at Hogwarts — dark figures spotted lurking in shadows, cursed objects appearing in unexpected places, and threats whispered behind closed doors. At first, Harry dismissed it as overblown paranoia — after all, his children carried the Potter name. But soon enough, things turned dangerous.
Salazar had narrowly avoided a poisoned quill hidden among his school supplies. Ares had woken up one night to find a shadowed figure standing ominously over his bed. Erus and Erebus had both been targeted with dangerously powerful hexes. It was clear — someone was after the Potter-Riddle children, and Hogwarts' usual defenses weren’t enough.
Desperate and unsure of where else to turn, Harry did something he'd sworn never to do — he reached out to Voldemort. Not with a letter or a messenger, but through their Horcrux connection — the lingering bond that still pulsed between them. The scar on Harry's forehead flared with painful heat as he focused his thoughts and called out.
The answer had been immediate — Voldemort’s sharp, cold voice echoing in his mind. "Why are you calling me?" he'd demanded.
Swallowing his pride and hatred, Harry had explained. To his surprise, Voldemort had fallen silent. After a pause that felt like an eternity, the Dark Lord’s answer had come: "Bring them to me. I will keep them safe."
Trusting Voldemort felt insane — but with no other options, Harry had done it. And against all odds, Voldemort had kept his word. The children not only found safety but had grown in unexpected ways. Voldemort’s ruthless precision had turned their magical skills sharp and powerful. Strangely, his presence had become something they found comfort in.
Erus, sharp and calculated, had bonded closely with Voldemort, their shared intellect forming an unexpected connection. Erebus gravitated toward Sirius and Remus, shadowing them like a miniature Marauder. Ares, ever the troublemaker, found joy in testing limits — much to Ron’s despair. And Salazar — young, chatty, and full of warmth — had somehow charmed even the Dark Lord himself.
For months, they had found themselves living in an uneasy blend of Potter, Weasley, and Death Eater — an odd patchwork of enemies turned reluctant allies. Harry couldn’t shake his lingering distrust, but one thing was undeniable — Voldemort was fiercely protective of the children.
And for now, that was enough.