Prologue
November 1, 1981. Privet Drive.
At the far end of the street - right where the cat was staring - a man appeared. It appeared unexpectedly and silently, as if it had grown out of the ground or appeared out of thin air. The cat's tail twitched from side to side and his eyes narrowed. No one on Privet Drive had ever seen this man. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard - so long that they could be tucked into his belt. He was dressed in a long frock coat, over which was thrown a purple earth-sweeping robe, and on his feet were high-heeled boots decorated with buckles. The eyes behind the darkened glasses were blue, very lively, bright and sparkling, and the nose was very long and crooked, as if it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
It seemed that Albus Dumbledore absolutely did not understand that he appeared on the street, where he was not welcome - everything connected with him was not welcome, from his name to his shoes. He didn't seem to care, however, and rummaged through the pockets of his robe, trying to find something. He clearly felt that he was being watched, because he suddenly looked up and looked at the cat looking at him from the other end of the street. Strange, but the sight of the cat amused him.
- That's to be expected, - he muttered, grinning.
Finally, in his inner pocket, he found what he was looking for. It was an object that looked like a silver lighter. Albus Dumbledore pulled back the silver cap, picked up the lighter and clicked it on. The street lamp closest to him immediately went out with a soft bang. He flicked the lighter again, and the next lantern plunged into darkness.After twelve clicks, everything on Privet Drive went out except for two distant, tiny, sharp lights – the eyes of the cat, who was watching Dumbledore intently. And if anyone had looked out of their window at that moment – even Mrs Dursley, whose beady eyes could not escape anything – they would not have been able to see what was happening on the street.
Dumbledore put his lighter – or rather, his extinguisher – back into the inside pocket of his robes and moved towards number four. When he reached it, he sat down on the fence next to the cat and, without even looking at her, said:
- Strange to see you here, Professor McGonagall, -
He smiled and turned to the tabby cat, but it had already disappeared. In its place, sitting on the fence was a rather stern-looking woman wearing glasses that were oddly similar in shape to the markings around the cat’s eyes. The woman was also wearing robes, but emerald ones. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her head. And it was immediately obvious that she looked irritated.
- How did you recognize me? - she asked.
- My dear Professor, I have never seen a cat sit so still in my life.
“If you stay still here, you’ll be sitting on a brick wall all day,” Professor McGonagall retorted.
“All day? When you could be celebrating with the others? I’ve seen at least a dozen parties and revelries on my way here.”
Professor McGonagall snorted angrily.
“Oh, yes, everyone is celebrating,” she said discontentedly. “You’d think they’d be a little more careful. But no – even the Muggles have noticed that something is going on. They were talking about it on the news.”“She nodded her head sharply towards the dark window behind which was the Dursleys’ living room. - I heard. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're not complete idiots. They just had to notice something. Just think - a meteor shower in Kent! I have no doubt that this was the work of Dedalus Dingle. He was never particularly intelligent.
"You shouldn't blame them," Dumbledore replied softly. “Over the past eleven years, we have had too few reasons to have fun.”
“I know,” Professor McGonagall’s voice became irritated. “But this does not justify those who have lost their heads. Our people are behaving absolutely recklessly. They appear on the streets in broad daylight, gather in crowds, and exchange rumors. And yet it doesn’t even occur to them to dress like Muggles.
She glanced sideways at Dumbledore with her prickly eyes, as if hoping that he would say something in response, but Dumbledore remained silent, and she continued: “It would be just perfect if on the very day that You-Know-Who finally disappeared, Muggles learn about our existence. By the way, I hope he really disappeared, doesn't he, Dumbledore?
“It’s quite obvious that this is so,” he replied. - So this is truly a holiday. Would you like a lemon drop?
-What?
- Candied lemon wedge. These are the kind of sweets that Muggles eat - I personally really like them.
“No, thank you,” Professor McGonagall’s voice was very cold, as if she did not at all think that now was the right time to eat lemon drops. “So, I settled on the fact that even if You-Know-Who really disappeared ...
“My dear professor, it seems to me that you are smart enough to call him by his name.” This is complete nonsense - You-Know-Who, You-Don't-Know-Who... For eleven years I have been trying to convince people that they should not be afraid to say his real name - Voldemort, - Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, engrossed the need to separate two sticky lemon slices did not seem to notice this. “In my opinion, there is a terrible confusion when we say: You-Know-Who,” he continued. “I never understood why one should be afraid to say Voldemort’s name.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the professor’s voice miraculously combined irritation with adoration. - But you are not like everyone else. Everyone knows that you are the only one You-Know-Who - well, well, whom Voldemort - was afraid of.
“You flatter me,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “Voldemort had powers that are beyond my control.
“Only because you are too...too noble to use these powers.”
“I’m lucky it’s night now.” I haven't blushed this much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earplugs.
Professor McGonagall's gaze fell on Albus Dumbledore.“And compared to those rumors that fly back and forth, flocks of owls are simply nothing.” Do you know what everyone is talking about? They wonder why he disappeared? They wonder what finally could stop him?
The impression was that Professor McGonagall finally spoke about what bothered her most, about what she so wanted to discuss, about what she had sat all day like a statue on a cold stone wall. And the gimlet gaze with which she looked at Dumbledore only confirmed this. It was obvious that even though she knew what everyone was saying, she wouldn't believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. However, Dumbledore, who was carried away by lemon drops, was in no hurry to answer.
“They say,” Professor McGonagall continued insistently, “they say that last night Voldemort appeared in Godric’s Hollow.” That he was there because of the Potters. If you believe the rumors, then Lily and James Potter... They... They are dead...
Dumbledore bowed his head and Professor McGonagall took a deep breath.
- Lily and James... It can’t be... I really didn’t want to believe it... Oh, Albus...
Dumbledore reached out and touched her shoulder.
“I understand...” he said bitterly. - I understand you very well.
When Professor McGonagall spoke again, her voice was shaking.
- And that is not all. They say he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But could not. He couldn't kill this little boy. Nobody knows why, nobody knows how this could happen. But they say that when Voldemort tried to kill Harry Potter, his powers suddenly ran out - and that's why he disappeared.Dumbledore nodded grimly.
- Is... is this true? - Professor McGonagall asked stammeringly. “After everything he did... After he killed so many of us... he couldn't kill a little boy? This is simply amazing... If you remember how many times they tried to stop him... What measures were taken for this... But by what miracle did Harry manage to survive?
“We can only guess,” Dumbledore replied. “We may never know the truth.”
Professor McGonagall took a lace handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping away the tears behind her glasses. Dumbledore sniffed the air noisily, took a gold watch out of his pocket and began to look at it closely. It was a very strange watch. They had twelve hands, but there were no numbers - instead of numbers there were small planets, and they did not stand still, but rotated non-stop in a circle.
However, Dumbledore knew exactly what the watch was showing, because he put it back in his pocket and said:
— Hagrid is late. By the way, I assume he was the one who told you that I would be here?
“Yes,” confirmed Professor McGonagall. “But I suppose you won’t tell me why you ended up here?”
"I'm here to give Harry to his aunt and uncle." They are the only relatives he has left.
- Do you really... Do you really mean those who live here?! - Professor McGonagall screamed, jumping to her feet and pointing her finger in the direction of number four. - Dumbledore, you won't do this. I watched them all day. You won't find another couple that is so different from us. And they have a son - I saw how his mother was pushing him in a stroller, and he was kicking her and screaming, demanding that they buy him candy. And you want Harry Potter to be here?!
“This is the best place for him,” Dumbledore answered firmly. “When he grows up, his aunt and uncle will be able to tell him everything.” I wrote them a letter.
- Letter? - Professor McGonagall asked very quietly, sitting back down on the fence. “For goodness sake, Dumbledore, do you really think that you can explain everything that happened in a letter?” These people will never understand Harry! He will become a celebrity, even a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today goes down in history as Harry Potter Day! Books will be written about him, every child in the world will know his name!
“Quite right,” agreed Dumbledore, looking very seriously at the professor over his darkened glasses.- And this will be enough to turn any boy's head: to become famous before he learns to walk and talk! He won’t even remember what exactly made him famous! Don't you see how much better it is for him if he lives here, far from our world, until he grows up and is able to cope with his fame?
Professor McGonagall hurriedly opened her mouth to say something sharp, but changed her mind, took a deep breath and caught her breath.
-Yes... Yes, of course, you are right. But tell me, Dumbledore, how will the boy get here?
She examined his robe carefully, as if it had suddenly occurred to her that he was hiding Harry under it.
“Hagrid will bring it.”
“Do you think it’s... Do you think it’s wise to trust Hagrid with such a responsible task?”
“I would trust him with my life,” Dumbledore answered simply.
“I don’t question his loyalty to you,” Professor McGonagall said reluctantly. “But you won’t deny that he is careless and frivolous.” He... What's that there?
The silence of the night was broken by muffled rumbles of thunder. Their sound grew louder. Dumbledore and McGonagall began to peer into the dark street in search of approaching headlights. And when they finally decided to raise their heads, a roar was heard from above, and a huge moped fell from the sky. It landed on Privet Drive right in front of them. The moped was gigantic in size, but the man sitting on it was even larger. He was almost twice the height of a normal man and at least five times wider.Simply put, he was prohibitively large, and also had a wild appearance - a tangled beard and thickets of black hair almost completely hid his face. His hands were the size of garbage can lids, and his leather-booted feet were the size of small dolphins. His giant, muscular arms clutched a bundle of blankets to his chest.
“Well, finally, Hagrid,” relief was clearly heard in Dumbledore’s voice. - Where did you get this moped?
“Yes, I borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore,” answered the giant, carefully getting off the moped. - Young Sirius Black. As for the child, I brought him, sir.
— Did everything go smoothly?
- Not very much, sir, there’s not much left of the house left unturned. The Muggles noticed this, of course, but I managed to pick up the child before they got there. He fell asleep while we were flying over Bristol.
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent over the folded blankets. Inside, barely noticeable in this pile of rags, lay a small boy fast asleep. On the forehead, just below the tuft of blue-black hair, a strange cut, similar to a lightning bolt, was visible.
“So this is where it is...” whispered Professor McGonagall.
“Yes,” confirmed Dumbledore. “He will have this scar for the rest of his life.”
“You can do something with him, Dumbledore?”
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.” Scars can serve you well. For example, I have a scar above my left knee that is an absolutely accurate diagram of the London Underground. Well, Hagrid, give the child here, it's time to end all this.
Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the Dursleys' house.
“Can I... Can I say goodbye to him, sir?” - asked Hagrid. He bent over the boy, shielding him from the others with his shaggy head, and kissed the child with a very prickly kiss due to the abundance of hair. And then suddenly he howled like a wounded dog.
- Shhh! - Professor McGonagall hissed. - You'll wake up the Muggles!
“S-s-sorry,” Hagrid sobbed, pulling a giant handkerchief covered in dirty stains from his pocket and hiding his face in it. “But I j-j-j-just can’t stand it.” Lily and James died, and baby Harry, poor thing, will now live with the Muggles...
“Yes, yes, it’s all very sad, but pull yourself together, Hagrid, otherwise we’ll be discovered,” Professor McGonagall whispered, timidly patting Hagrid on the shoulder.
And Dumbledore stepped over the low fence and went to the porch. He carefully lowered Harry onto the threshold, took a letter from the pocket of his robes, put it in the blanket and returned to the couple who were waiting for him. For a full minute, all three stood and stared at the small bundle - Hagrid's shoulders were shaking, Professor McGonagall's eyes were blinking furiously, and the radiance that always emanated from Dumbledore's eyes now faded.
“Well,” Dumbledore said goodbye. - That's all. There's nothing more for us to do here. We'd better go and join the celebrations.
“Yeah,” Hagrid agreed in a choked voice. “I… I think I’ll give Sirius Black his moped back.” Good night to you, Professor McGonagall, and to you, Professor Dumbledore. Wiping away the tears rolling from his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, Hagrid jumped into the saddle of the moped, started the engine with a sharp movement, rose into the sky with a roar and disappeared into the night.
“I hope to see you very soon, Professor McGonagall,” Dumbledore said and bowed his head. Professor McGonagall simply blew her nose instead of answering.
Dumbledore turned and walked down the street. At the corner he stopped and pulled his silver lighter out of his pocket. He clicked it just once, and the twelve lamps came back on as if nothing had happened, so that the whole of Privet Drive was illuminated with an orange light. In this light, Dumbledore noticed a tabby cat turning the corner at the other end of the street. And then he looked at the package lying on the threshold of house number four.
“Good luck, Harry,” he whispered, turned on his heel and disappeared with a rustle of his robes. The wind that blew into Privet Drive stirred the neatly trimmed bushes, the well-groomed street slept quietly under the inky sky, and it seemed that if mysterious things could happen anywhere, it certainly wasn’t here. Harry Potter tossed and turned in his blankets in his sleep. A small hand with a gold bracelet on her wrist found the letter and squeezed it. He continued to sleep, not knowing that he was special, that he had become a celebrity. Not knowing that he would wake up a few hours later to the scream of Mrs. Dursley, who, before the milkman arrived, would open the door to put empty milk bottles behind it. Not knowing that Cousin Dudley would be pinching and poking him for the next few weeks - and for the next few years too... And he also did not know that while he was sleeping, people were gathering secretly or openly across the country to to celebrate the holiday, raised their glasses and said in a whisper or at the top of their voice:
- For Harry Potter - for the boy who lived!
The moon sparkled in the sky, and its glare was reflected from the bracelet with a white stone in the middle.
***
Unknown location
The young soul appeared in eternal darkness. It was a boy, very similar to Harry, only he was older. The boy calmly walked forward until he saw another person.
- Who are you? — the question was natural and quite understandable.
“Mikael,” responded an 18-year-old guy. “I was imprisoned in the Abyss a long time ago, and who are you?”
“So I’m in my mother’s domain,” the boy whispered. - My name is Adrian and I came here protecting my younger brother from death.
The guy looked at the boy from all sides and nodded to his thoughts. He has lived here for a very long time and for the first time he sees that someone alive could get so deep into his consciousness that he fell into this place.
- Listen, can you fence? — Mikael asked with interest.
“No, but I’m ready to become a student,” Adrian lied a little. He was a god who was cursed to separate his soul and body. It is approximately 104,982 years old. His mother is Darkness and his father is Light. Many gods call him neutral, but after so many years, Adrian began to lean more towards his mother, because as a child his father tried to kill him. He has already been to this world once. He founded the De Rosa clan, received a curse again, he had 3 sons, twins from a mortal and one from Hel. Subsequently, the De Rosa clan died out due to a curse, and the Perevell clan settled in England. Adrian created 4 gifts of death: he and Death imbued a wand, a stone and a cloak with the forces of death and darkness together, and these 3 gifts could be used by him and her and their descendants, as well as mortals; 4 Death's scythe was a gift. He made it himself, using his own bone for the handle, a claw for the blade in the form of a dragon, and blood as a connecting thread. Only he and Hel could use this scythe. He probably fell into his descendant, and the descendant became a mate to Hel’s descendant, so he was magnetized into this world and made a twin, whom he protected from the noseless freak in Saiman.
***
Italy, Volterra. Castle Volturi.
While England celebrated the defeat of the Dark Lord, all of Italy slept, wrapped in the bliss of the night and seeing their dreams and desires in their dreams. And in Volterra, three rulers went about their business. Aro was in his office and sorted out the documents of their company, Caius was in the garden and watched the stars, and Marcus was in the library, reading an ancient but very interesting tome. Suddenly, they simultaneously felt a dull pain and constriction in the chest area. Without saying a word, the brothers went to the throne room.Having arrived at the place, they approached the bridge that was located behind their thrones.
-You see the same as I do. Brothers? - Aro was confused and it was heard in his words.
“Yes, Aro, we see the same thing as you,” Caius and Marcus said synchronously looking at the golden throne.
The Golden Throne or the Throne of the Vampire King. Once upon a time, the first vampire helped build this city, and then ruled next to his brothers, but after several centuries the King disappeared, and his throne became stone. Now the throne has shone again, which means a new Vampire King has appeared in the world, a descendant of the First King...
***
Domain of Death
A lifeless wasteland... There is not a single soul around, even plants cannot live in this place, drying up from the aura of death. It is in this place that there is a majestic castle carved into the center of the mountain. If you go through the huge gate and walk along the courtyard, you can get into the throne room, which was not empty now. A beautiful woman sat on a throne and watched a little boy. Today, Death, or as the Vikings call him Hel, felt that her new master had come to the mortal world, but something was wrong, something that greatly puzzled the Eternal Bride. Death rose from his throne and approached the tree of life of her family.
- So that's it. I didn’t expect that our branches would merge again into one person. Interesting, very interesting,” Death muttered quietly. -I will follow you, Herald.
