Chapter 1
There was a light crisp breeze drifting about with the sun shining brightly illuminating the landscape. Not many clouds littered the sky and though the sun shone brightly the air wasn’t hot and humid but had a pleasant warmth to it. In Neville Longbottom’s opinion, this was a perfect day.
He was lounging around in the manor’s gardens, nestled under a large fig tree surrounded by foliage which shielded him from immediate view. That was just one reason why this spot was his favorite in the gardens. He’d never been found nor disturbed here since he’d found this spot and made it his own.
Another reason was he felt at home among all the plants and trees, or rather tree was that there was something about being close to the very earth which made him feel safe and secure unlike anything else. Because of this he often went barefoot outside of the manor letting his toes root around in the grass or dirt. It was a habit that his grandmother hated and tried to break him of.
Speaking of his grandmother…
“Neville! Neville Franklin Longbottom! I know you hear me! Come inside, right this instant!”
Neville sighed as he grudgingly got up from where he was lying on the ground loathe to leave the peace and quiet of his secret place. As he moved to walk towards the house he barely remembered to put on his socks and shoes. He’d rather not give his grandmother another reason to lecture him about how he had to live up to his potential as a Longbottom and how he needed to behave in a manner that befitted his station.
Sometimes he wondered if her lectures were something that had just started recently or the moment he was put into her care when he was a year and a half old. Had he disappointed her with his every action even them?
Don’t get him wrong. He loved his grandmother. He just hated the way she expected so much from him even though he was just five and why did he have to be exactly like his father in everything. What was worse was that no matter how hard to he tried to make her proud it just didn’t seem like it was enough in her eyes. Part of him was inclined to just stop trying to please her. However, a much larger part of him wanted her to acknowledge his accomplishments and be proud of him because who else was going to do it?
His parents….his parents as they were couldn’t do much of anything in that department. Though his Gram said they wouldn’t ever be themselves again, Neville hadn’t given up hope. Just because someone hadn’t found a way to heal them yet didn’t mean that someone wouldn’t find a way to in the future. He’d find a cure himself if he had to. One day his parents would recognize him and when they did they would be proud of him and tell him how much they loved him.
Absently nodding his head Neville entered the manor and set off toward the east wing of the house and the parlor his grandmother favored.
The manor, while not cold, dark or scary like some of the ones he’d read about in books, it wasn’t comforting or full of life either. Besides the house elves, who liked to stay out of sight until they were called on, only he and his grandmother lived here.
He’d never been outside the manor his whole life. Neville had tried to get his grandmother to take him places, but it was always the same response. ‘He wasn’t ready to go out yet. It was too dangerous. He might embarrass himself and bring shame to the family name. Etc, etc.’
To him it all just sounded like poor excuses. His Gram would always tell him scary stories about You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters but she would never completely explain things to him, like what exactly caused his parents to be the way they were. If he just knew then he could start looking for ways to help them but his grandmother wouldn’t budge. Plus she didn’t like it that he all but accused her of not telling the truth, at least not the whole truth. Surprisingly that was the one thing she approved of with him, the fact that he could tell when someone wasn’t being totally honest with him.
Neville soon found himself in front of the parlor doors. Rubbing the marks on his arms to give him courage and making sure that his appearance was in order, he took a deep breath then opened the doors. Entering the room Neville saw his grandmother sipping tea while reading one of several international wizarding papers she was subscribed to. His grandmother always said it was good to be informed about what was going on not just in your country but those all over. For that very reason he was currently in the process of learning Italian and French. He had already learned Latin.
He moved to stand in front of her. “You called for me Grandmother?”
It was a minute before she finally put the paper down and addressed him. As usual she was dressed finely in a dress of her station, green, her preferred color and had on one of her infamous vulture hats which oddly complimented what she was wearing.
“Where have you been for the last hour?’ asked brusquely.
“In the gardens relaxing,” he replied.
“Hmm,” said Augusta with a hint of disapproval. “Well, I called you here to let you know that my brother Algie, your uncle, is coming to visit and will be here by tomorrow.”
“That’s nice,” said Neville blandly. Neville had to force himself not to frown at this news. He didn’t like his great uncle Algie, not at all. While his grandmother might be disapproving and occasionally show him affection, his uncle was much worse. Not once had the man seemed impressed with him or acted kindly towards him.
It was one thing if the man just didn’t like him, he could deal with that, but he also seemed to actively have it out for him. Whenever his uncle was around and his grandmother was nowhere to be found, he would actively take it upon himself to ‘test’ his great nephew’s magical potential. It didn’t matter that it had been proven by healers that he had magic. As far as his uncle was concerned, his lack of accidental magic was proof that he was magically weak, no better than a squib.
More than once he’d heard his uncle try to advise his grandmother to hand him over to one of their non-magical relatives. His reasoning was that since there was no guarantee he would be going to Hogwarts, it was best he learn to how to live in the muggle world, making it easier for him to adapt in the ‘likely’ case he wouldn’t be receiving his letter at eleven. While his grandmother always rebuffed his uncle’s attempts Neville was still wary of him possibly changing her mind since she seemed to pretty much ignore his complaints about his uncle’s behavior around him, saying that he was imagining things or making things more extreme than they were.
His grandmother must have noticed his feelings on the subject because she leveled him with a stern glare. “You will be nothing but polite to Algie. Do you understand?”
Neville nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. You may go back to what you were doing.” She picked up her paper to begin reading again, a clear dismissal if there ever was one.
Holding in his sigh Neville was preparing himself to leave when he heard a sudden piercing, whining screech fill the parlor room. Alarmed, Neville turned to his grandmother to ask what the sound was but felt the question die in his throat. His grandmother had lowered the paper and had a deathly pale countenance, fear clear in her eyes.
“Grandmother?” questioned Neville apprehensively.
His question seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in for the fear left her eyes to be replaced by cold hard determination. “Tilly!” she shouted.
A female house elf dressed in the uniform given to all the Longbottom elves appeared before them bowing, her face solemn and dutiful. “Yes, mistress? How may Tilly be of assistance?”
“Take Neville to the safe room and activate all its protections. Do not open it or let anyone in or out for any reason! Do you understand?”
“Yes mistress! Tilly understands and will follow your instructions without fail!” Tilly’s face was just as grim and determined as the widow Longbottom’s. She moved to grab Neville’s and began tugging him away.
Neville twisted around in her grip to stare at his grandmother imploringly with fear in his eyes. “What’s going on Grandmum? What safe room or you talking about?” He had never heard anything about a safe room in the manor. Also, what did that sound mean? It had to be something bad from the way his grandmother and Tilly were acting.
His grandmother narrowed her eyes at him before they softened slightly. “Neville. I love you, you know that right?”
Neville nodded, suddenly feeling his apprehension grow at his grandmother’s words. Why was she saying this right now? What was happening?! What was happening?!
“Good. I want you to remember all that I told you about the Longbottom’s. They are a strong, hardworking, and loyal family who overcome the obstacles thrown at them through perseverance. You are a Longbottom through and through and I’m proud of you. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Understand?”
Neville could only nod again at her words, his fear and other emotions he wasn’t able to quitte name preventing him from speaking.
“People are trying to break into the house, most likely to try and harm you, and I need to go take care of them. You are to follow Tilly to the safe room and stay put there until either I come and get you or Algie does. Do you understand?” Her words were full of authority and brooked no argument. Whether he understood or not, he would follow her orders.
“Yes, ma’am,” he managed to muster through his fear. He wanted to ask her why she couldn’t be with him in the safe room but thought better of it. He knew she wasn’t in the mood to be questioned right now.
She nodded sharply. “Now go!”
With that Neville felt himself being tugged along by Tilly as they ran through the manor towards the safe room. All the while that awful screeching followed them as it echoed throughout the manor sounding like the harbinger of doom that Neville had read about in a scary story.
It was minutes later when they were finally in a part of the manor Neville had never been to that they stopped in front of a wall with a tapestry of the Longbottom crest on it.
“Here we are young master. Place your hand on the tapestry,” said Tilly with urgency.
Following her order Neville place his hand on the tapestry and felt warmth emanate from it into his hand making it feel unnaturally warm. He tried to move his hand away but it felt as if it was held in place by some invisible force. After about a minute the feeling ended and Neville felt his hand sink through the tapestry meeting the air.
Baffled Neville looked to the side of the tapestry to see if the wall was gone but it looked to still be there. He pushed more of his arm through just to be sure that what was happening was really happening.
“You must hurry young master! Go through the tapestry where you will be safe!” said Tilly.
Pushing aside his curiosity Neville walked through the tapestry and found himself in a large room. It was reminiscent of the family living room, lined with a fireplace, rugs, chairs, couches and tables. Though unlike the living room there were also bookcases lined with a variety of books.
Neville turned to ask Tilly about the room but she was nowhere to be found. All there was behind him was a wall which when he placed his hand on it was solid.
Neville began to feel panic, especially as he noticed he couldn’t hear that awful noise anymore. “Tilly!” he shouted, hoping the house elf would answer him but there was no such luck. She didn’t pop in at his call, nor did any of the other house elves that he called for
Feeling nauseous he moved towards one of the couches and laid on it bringing his knees up to his chest as he felt tears begin to gather in his eyes. He was all alone and his grandmother was out there more than likely fighting for her life to protect him. He felt so helpless.
He hoped his grandmum and the house elves all made it out in one piece. He didn’t want to lose the little bit of family he had left.
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Five year old Hadrian James Potter was bored. Currently, he was sitting in the backseat of his uncle’s car in St. Augustine Hospital’s parking lot waiting for his relatives to come back. He supposed simply being bored was an improvement over how minutes earlier he’d been both suffocating and burning to death due to the midday sun and the fact all the windows were rolled up in the car, a car which had power windows.
Just as he’d been on the verge of passing out and lamenting once again his lot in life, the car had suddenly cooled down making it feel like someone had turned on the AC. Like with all the other weird things which happened around him that saved him from a bad fate, Harry didn’t bother to question it. Instead he thanked whatever entity had seen fit to give him a break from the hardships he faced.
Harry looked down at the watch on his wrist to see it was 3:27. It had been three hours since the Dursley’s had entered the hospital and they still hadn’t come out yet. Usually they kept their visits to about an hour and a half when they were seeing Aunt Petunia.
Of course, he should have known they would probably be in there longer today. After all they usually only went to the hospital after school and when Vernon had returned from work. Today his uncle had arrived and pulled both him and Dudley out of school before lunch with a grim and angry look on his face. Harry wouldn’t lie, the look on his uncle’s face had scared him, making him extra careful not to draw attention to himself. His uncle in a foul mood usually didn’t bode well for him.
Even his cousin Dudley had looked apprehensive too, especially since his uncle had refused to answer any of his questions. All his uncle had said was that they were going to the hospital. The whole ride had been silent and when they reached there his uncle had only thrown a glare his way before he got out along with Dudley and locked the door behind them.
The only thing Harry could think was that there had been a change in her condition, and judging by his uncle’s demeanor it probably wasn’t a good one.
Three years ago, only a year after the Dursley’s had taken him in, his aunt Petunia had been diagnosed with cancer. He couldn’t remember what type of cancer it was but since then his aunt had been in and out of the hospital getting treated for it.
Unfortunately, from what Harry had managed to glean, it had been pretty advanced when they found it so the chances of his aunt living for a long time were slim. It was only in the last couple of months that she had been permanently moved to the hospital where apparently she would have to stay till she died.
His uncle and cousin were definitely torn up about the whole situation. Though his uncle liked to release his feelings on him and had taken to blaming him for Petunia getting sick, saying he had made it happen on purpose. No matter what his uncle or Aunt Marge told him, Harry didn’t believe he had caused his aunt to become sick, at least not on purpose.
While she hadn’t been exactly warm to him when he first arrived, she was nowhere as near as cold as his uncle had been. She had feed him when he was hungry, fixed him up when he was hurt, even coddled him when he was sick, and he got to stay in the smallest bedroom which had been enough for him, even if she didn’t dote on him quite the way she did Dudley.
When she’d first gotten sick, things had been alright and not much had changed at first. However, as she became sicker, at Vernon’s ‘behest’ he had been made to start doing small chores around the house in order to ease the strain on her body. Gradually, doing little chores around the house turned into him doing all the cooking and cleaning in the house, especially when his aunt Marge had taken it upon herself to visit frequently to ‘help’ with taking care of the men in the family. Harry excluded in that of course.
Things had gone from bearable to near intolerable once his aunt had been put in the hospital though. What had once been just slaps to the back of the head or some rough shoves into objects and the like had turned into full on punches, kicks, and arm twisting which left him with bruises and in terrible pain. Not to mention the fact that sometimes food and basic privileges were withheld from him, and he had been relegated to living in the cupboard under the stairs.
And of course, his aunt Marge had approved of it all, even getting in on it herself. Not physically, no that was too exhausting for her, though she liked to sic her little menace of a dog Ripper on him. His aunt Petunia wasn’t aware of how bad things had become for him and his uncle made sure it stayed that way by not only threatening him with bodily harm but doing his best to keep him from visiting her to avoid the possibility he might say something.
His life had turned into a hell that he only escaped from when he went to school, the library, and was alone with Dudley.
Dudley. Dudley had been a blessing he hadn’t even hoped or wished for to happen. In the beginning he and his cousin had been fine. They played together and got along well, until uncle Vernon saw them together one day. (His uncle had made it a habit to keep Dudley away from Harry the moment he saw him display his abilities.) Things had changed after that day. Dudley had begun to ignore him when his father wasn’t around, and would actively call Harry names and hit him when his father was around, seeming to want to impress his dad.
Harry wouldn’t lie. It had hurt to lose the only friend he’d had since the Dursley’s rarely allowed him to leave the house let alone play with the other kids in the neighborhood for fear he’d display his ‘freakishness’. However, not long after his aunt had been sent to stay in the hospital, things had once again changed.
Dudley and Vernon had been in the living room watching the telly while Harry was dusting when it happened. Dudley had whined about wanting to change the channel but the remote was too far away. His uncle hadn’t said anything, seeming to be amused by Dudley’s behavior. Dudley had futilely reached out his hand, perhaps hoping his arm would stretch towards it or it fly into his hand. Either way, as if summoned the remote soared smack dab into his hand to both his, Harry, and uncle Vernon’s shock.
There was nothing but a heavy silence afterwards. Dudley had stared at his hand with his mouth wide open, uncle Vernon’s face was a mixture of shock and disbelief with Harry’s expression being much the same. However, the silence didn’t last long. Before Harry could even blink, his uncle was upon him, his fist raining down pain as he bellowed that he wouldn’t allow him to infect his soon with his freakishness, much like he was killing Petunia.
While Harry had gone to bed that night barely able to move a muscle, he’d been excited in a morbid sort of way because he knew things had changed again. He wasn’t the only one in the house that was different. Dudley was too. A fact that was proven when more incidents occurred around Dudley, several of which Harry couldn’t have possibly have done. (His uncle, the next day, after beating the crap out of him, tried to pawn it off as something Harry had done to try and trick them.)
It was after what was roughly the eighth or ninth time that Dudley did something strange that uncle Vernon finally reached his breaking point. They had just exited the car and were entering the house when Dudley suddenly remembered he had left his Gameboy in it. He had tried to open the door which was locked and was about to yell at his dad to open the door when suddenly the car roared to life, unlocking the doors in the process.
Vernon had hurried outside to see what was going on, with Harry cautiously at his heels, only to see a baffled Dudley standing by the car which was running sans keys. Vernon whose face was starting to turn various shades of red and purple said not a word. He simply went into the house, got the keys, walked outside and turned off the car, grabbed Dudley, who was still in shock, by the hand and dragged him inside.
For the first and not the last time his uncle had beaten his own son till he was barely conscious then proceeded to start in on Harry too when it seemed the anger hadn’t left him yet. Things had become extremely tense after that for a week before a semblance of normalcy returned. Yet, the damage was done and nothing was ever the same afterwards.
Dudley had become wary around his own father and was much more aware of his every move than he used to be. But the real change was in how Dudley started treating him. Since the incident, not once had Dudley called him any kind of name or caused him any harm. In fact, he had started going out of his way to deflect his father’s wrath away from him when he could, though as of late, more often than not, they had both been subjected to Vernon’s anger. Though his uncle was careful to never hit Dudley when his sister Marge was around, and it was just pure luck that Dudley hadn’t had an accident when she was around yet.
Fortunately, for Harry this only made the two of them grow closer than they had previously. They were like brothers to each other now and had begun to rely on one another. Dudley had even given the watch he was currently wearing as a gift. A watch that had once been broken but Dudley had somehow managed to get it working again.
With Dudley now on his side, Harry felt more confident that he could make it having to live with his uncle until he and Dudley could find a way to get away from him. Not to mention the four and two soul marks he and Dudley had respectively only added to their optimism. Even if relatives couldn’t be soulmates they had begun to regard each other as such.
Harry was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the unlocking mechanism trigger for the car doors. Looking up he saw his uncle and Dudley approaching the car with sadder looks on their faces than usual. They both looked like they had been crying, well Dudley still looked like he was crying, occasionally wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He felt his breath catch in his throat. That could only mean one thing…
They opened the car doors, neither of them saying a word or noticing that the car was a lot cooler than it should be. The only sound that could be heard was Dudley’s sniffles in the front seat. Uncle Vernon quickly started the car and they were soon on their way back to Little Whinging. Part of Harry was tempted to ask what had happened just to confirm what he suspected, but the more cautious part of himself warned against it because chances were if what he suspected was true than it was only a matter of time before his uncle decided to blame it all on him, and it would just be better to not draw attention to himself sooner than he needed to.
An hour later they arrived at the house. By this time Dudley seemed to have managed to get himself under control because there were no more sounds which resembled someone crying. Harry waited until after his uncle had exited the car before he did making sure to carefully close the car door. Harry managed to catch up to Dudley who was behind Vernon and place a hand on his shoulder squeezing it. Dudley turned and simply gave him a sad watery smile before walking into the house.
Harry was tempted to follow him up to give him comfort but decided against it in case his uncle were to come upon them. Instead he tried to make himself as small as possible as he entered the house and made a beeline straight for his cupboard. He heard Dudley forlornly trudging up the stairs.
Once safely inside, Harry could only hope that he would be able spend the rest of the day and night in it undisturbed. However, as he heard what sounded like his uncle riffling through the liquor cabinet, he knew it was a hope he knew that probably wouldn’t come true.
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Yes, there was such a thing as magic. It was a fact she had long ago been made aware of, along with the fact being that there was another part of her family, a magical part.
When she was young, her grandmother had explained to her where exactly she came from. How she was part of an old noble magical family which resided in Great Britain, and how she came to America and almost completely cut ties with them.
Margaret Longbottom, the first daughter and child of Lucille and Alton Longbottom, was born a squib. Even though her family consisted of Light side purebloods and were accepting of her, that still didn’t change the fact that they were traditionalists.
In keeping with most purebloods who decided to raise their squib counter parts she was mostly confined to the home and rarely taken out into the wizarding world as being a squib in those days was largely seen as shameful.
As Margaret grew up isolated from her peers and her younger siblings, all born with magic who went off to Hogwarts, she realized she needed to make a life for herself outside of the wizarding world. So with her parents’ approval she began her schooling in the non-magical world. After completing her basic education she went on to higher education, managing to procure a scholarship to Yale University.
Leaving home and telling her family goodbye she pursued a degree in Biology having an interest in discovering not only what made one a wizard but also what caused the X-gene in mutants who by that time had garnered international attention. It was while at Yale that she met her future husband Aaron Potts who was studying the same thing as her.
With many common interest they became fast friends who worked with each other over the years, eventually becoming lovers and marrying. It was soon after they married that her grandmother revealed to her grandfather her magical heritage and he in return revealed the fact that he was a mutant with the ability to create, manipulate and control water; along with the fact that the X-gene had regularly run through his family.
They’d went on to have only one child, her father, who inherited neither magic nor an active X-gene from either of his parents, not that it bothered them in the least. However, they had made the decision to inform him as much as they could of his heritage on both sides of his family. Not only so he wouldn’t be ignorant about them but also as a way to help protect him. It was a decision they upheld even after her father was married and she was born.
Her grandparents weren’t able to talk about everything they’d discovered through their research because of the government agency they worked for, which also remained a secret, but the little they were able to reveal had definitely fascinated Pepper, especially the magical world.
Though her grandmother wasn’t as involved with the world as she had been before she moved to America, she had still stayed connected to it like keeping abreast of the latest news and occasionally buying magical items. Pepper clearly remembered one of the days her grandmother had taken her with her on a trip to one of the magical community’s shopping centers and brought her a beautiful necklace enchanted with protection charms. It was a cherished gift that kept on her at all times.
Now, here was something neither her father nor grandmother had prepared her for: coming face-to-face with the magical side of her family.
From how her grandmother described things it was her siblings’ actions that had pushed her to mostly separate ties with her family. They had all gone to Hogwarts and gotten to experience magic and unsurprisingly it had made them feel superior to their non-magic wielding older sister. While they hadn’t been hostile, they also hadn’t been as kind or sympathetic as they could have been. So, before things could truly turn sour between them, she had struck out for greener pastures.
Here in her living room was standing her grandmother’s only brother Algie, and according to him her last living relative on that side of the family, aside from the young boy quietly sleeping on her couch.
“So let me get this straight. Four years ago there was a war going on in magical Great Britain lead by a wizard known as Lord Voldemort or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was close to winning the war when he was somehow defeated by one year old named Harry Potter after he went to kill him and his family. However, due to his followers influence or ability to evade capture, most of them went free. Am I correct so far?”
Algie nodded. “You are.” Algie Longbottom was a moderately tall man who looked to be in his 70s with long dark blonde hair, pale skin, and blue green eyes.
“And two days ago, some of these followers attacked the manor where my great aunt Augusta and cousin Neville were staying trying to kill them. However, while they managed to murder her they were unable to get to Neville because he was safely hidden away. Because of this attack, which shows they can get through powerful wards if they want, and the fact not all of the attackers were caught, you think its best that Neville stay with his non-magical relatives in order to keep him safe?”
“That’s the gist of it, yes.”
Pepper paused to once again observe Algie as she processed this information. As horrible as what he’d told her was, she couldn’t believe what he was asking her to do. Sure she had always wanted to have children but that had been a plan for the future, when she was married and had reached where she wanted to be in her career. She was only 28 for Christ’s sake!
Yet, at the same time there was no else who could take this child in. Her mother and father were too busy enjoying their time as retirees to possibly take in Neville, both her paternal and maternal grandparents were deceased, and aside from her there was only Algie since she was an only child.
“Is there any particular reason why you can’t raise him?” She had a sneaking suspicion why but she wanted to hear it from him.
Algie shrugged. “I don’t really have any particular fondness for children. Nor do I have any idea how to raise them or any wish too. Also, there’s no guarantee he’ll be going to Hogwarts since he’s yet to show any magical ability. In the event he never does then it’s best that he would have grown up in the muggle world.”
Pepper pursed her lips at the word ‘muggle.’ She’d almost forgotten the fact that the British or rather the European wizarding world was quite prejudice, especially against non-magicals, though he had revealed the real crux of the matter. He didn’t think Neville was a wizard, thus he didn’t see him as his responsibility.
Inwardly she sighed at how callous this man was. “Is there any particular reason why they went after Neville? Also, what happened to his parents? I notice you didn’t say anything about them being dead.”
Algie seemed to hesitate in answering her question.
At this Pepper put her hands on her hips, straightening her back and adopting a hard expression which brooked no argument as she prepared to do battle. “Look, I need the whole truth. If what your saying is true, and this boy is in danger, then that means I need to know why and what he is in danger from if I’m going to take him in. I can’t take care of and protect him without all the facts. So you either tell me what I want to know or you’ll have to raise him yourself.”
Algie face went from hesitant to irritate to grim before finally settling on grudging resignation. “Fine,” he grit out between clenched teeth. “You might as well make some tea and grab a seat. This will take a while.”
Pepper nodded as Algie took a seat while she went to prepare some tea. She didn’t care how long it took him to tell her everything, as long as she heard it all. As her parent’s had taught her one can only make a truly informed decision when they know all the facts. Pepper Potts wasn’t anyone’s fool and she wasn’t about to start being one.
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Phillip J. Coulson was anxious. Less than two hours ago he’d gotten a call from his cousin Charles saying that they needed to meet and that it was important.
Really important. Like of the utmost importance.
Now usually Phil wouldn’t get so worked up about having to discuss things of significant importance. When working with SHIELD it came with the territory. However, as playful and mischievous as Charles could be, he didn’t joke around when it came to something serious, and his voice had been decidedly lacking in playfulness when he called.
So here he was awake at 1:30 in the morning in his New York apartment waiting for Charles to show up. Only seven hours ago he had been in Brazil on a mission that had lasted two weeks longer than it should have, which had resulted in him being somewhat chewed out by Fury on the delay. Though honestly, how could he have known things would turn out to be far more serious than expected?
Still, the delay aside, things had worked out in SHIELD’s favor in the end and he had been debriefed and given a month off after a stressful two and a half month long mission. Of course, that month off didn’t mean he was exempt from all the annoying paper work that had to be filled out.
All in all he wished Charles would hurry up so he could either immediately go back to sleep or get whatever needed to be done over with so then he could go to sleep again in peace.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when he felt a slight shift in the air. Looking to his left on the couch he was seated on Phil was greeted with the grim visage of his cousin who was dressed in a very nondescript suit holding a briefcase.
“Well,” said Phil before his cousin could open his mouth. “If the suit you’re wearing is any indication, I’m decidedly under dressed for whatever it is you’re here to talk about.” Phil gestured to himself with his hand showing the black t-shirt and blue boxers he was wearing.
Charles actually cracked a grin at this losing some of his seriousness. “Considering we’re about to take a trip across the pond, then yes, yes you are.”
Phil raised an eyebrow. “A trip across the pond? Are we going to Europe...” he trailed off leadingly.
“Surrey in England to be exact.” Here Charles face lost its amusement. “About two hours ago, the oldest seer in the family had a mass vision which depicted possible future events. Of course it wasn’t very clear, gave long snippets at best, but several things alarmingly stuck out giving more than an idea of what the near future holds.”
“And it holds…”
“War Phillip. Intergalactic war. What our family has been preparing for for all these centuries is coming, and it isn’t going to be pretty in the least. I wish I could tell you that was the only terrible thing on the horizon that’s going to shape this world’s future.”
Phil didn’t say anything. Simply nodding and humming in agreement at Charles words, trusting his knowledge and judgment. They’d known each other since childhood, and though they weren’t always able to physically hang out due to their parent’s occupations and later their own in adulthood, through various methods of communication they had gotten to know each other, form, and maintain a strong bond.
After a few moments of silence in which Phil digested what he’d been told he looked to his cousin in askance. “So I’m guessing what we’re going to Surrey for is going to play a significant part in what’s going to happen in the future?”
“You got it in one. Hurry and get dressed. I’ll explain the rest on the drive over there. We wanna get to there while there’s still some light in the sky. In this particular case, going over at night won’t go over well.”
Phil got up from the couch moving towards to his bedroom. “That same reason for not going at night have to do with why we’re not just teleporting straight to the place, but instead teleporting to where ever in London then driving the rest of the way?”
“Yup!” echoed Charles enthusiastic voice from the living room.
Phil rolled his eyes as he quickly got dressed in one of his grey suits. He grabbed his standard issue gun from SHIELD along with his own personal heavily modified weapon and hid them away on his person. As an afterthought he also strapped the enchanted dagger given to him by his sister to his ankle and put on the protection necklace his parents had given his ages ago.
Stepping out of the bedroom ready to face whatever came his way Phil nodded at Charles letting him know he was ready.
Charles gave him a wicked grin in return and held out his hand. Taking his hand, Phil wait as a second later he felt the familiar sense of weightlessness combined with the shifting of the ground under his feet and fading of his surroundings as they teleported to London.
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“What you’re essentially saying is that we’re here to pick up these two boys who happen to be cousins. One who is a powerful wizard that will become even more powerful with age and is part of some prophecy that was idiotically activated and is hailed as a savior in the British wizarding community. The other is a wizard too but also a mutant with a rare but powerful ability.”
“Correct,” nodded Charles as he drove his Rolls Royce through the London streets towards Little Whinging, Surrey and the residence of number 4 Privet Drive. It was about 6:20pm in the afternoon.
“And the reason for us going to pick them up is because part of this mass vision showed the very young two of them in mortal danger and that failure to rescue them could lead to their deaths which in turn could negatively impact the future since there had to be a reason for them in particular showing up.”
“Correct again, PJ,” said Charles cheerfully, knowing full well Phil hated that nickname. “Really, the only way we were able to find them is because in part of the vision they referred to each other as cousins and one of the few who were made aware of the vision recognized the physical characteristics being described as that of the Potter boy. With that little clue we began searching and it didn’t take us very long to find the boy’s relatives, and considering how very few there were it barely took an hour to find them even if the boy isn’t really listed as being with them. Now we get to go and be heroes, eh PJ?”
Barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes Phil simply turned to stare out the car’s window taking in the scenery as it passed by. It had been some time since he’d been to London let alone England itself.
Though Charles hadn’t said it yet, he knew why he was being brought along. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t questioning why he had been chosen for this particular task, or calling as some would say. One of the rules they followed when on missions was that you didn’t bring someone along just because you could. If they were coming with then they should be contributing something important or at the very least be capable of defending themselves. Disregarding that rule usually lead to disaster.
Now don’t get him wrong, he loved children. It was just when he pictured himself having them he was usually married, but as he’d long ago learned, things don’t always go as you plan. Sighing, Phil rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand as he began to mentally calculate all that he would need to take care of two young, more than likely abused boys. A stop at a local bookstore for some books on parenting was definitely in order.
Not for the first time Phil wished that his parents were alive so he could get their advice. Still he had Charles and his wife Elizabeth to go to as a source of advice and information since they had two children of their own. And of course, there was Claudia and John along with little Stiles, whom he hadn’t spoken to or seen in about a year. He’d take one of these weeks he had off and visit them, introduce the boys to their new aunt, uncle and cousin. He also couldn’t forget about introducing them to Clint who would no doubt find the whole thing amusing but oddly exciting.
However, Phil mentally groaned as he realized he’d also have to explain things to Fury and won’t that be such a pleasant conversation. He could just picture the man’s face name and what he would say.
“We’re here.”
Pulling himself from his musings Phil blinked a few times as he noticed the change in scenery. They were in a suburb, a suburb where every house looked exactly the same, from the color of the house to the shingles to the way the lawn was cut. So whoever cared for these boys were one of those people. People who were obsessed with being normal, well to do, and the opinions of others were everything to them.
It explained, though didn’t excuse, exactly why these boys were being treated so. Having strange powers wouldn’t have fit in with the normality the parents were no doubt trying to exude.
After several minutes in which they had to hunt down the particular house they were looking for out of all the annoyingly identical ones they finally found number 4 Privet Drive.
Charles parked in front of the house blocking the driveway which was only occupied by one car.
“How are we going to do this?” asked Phil, content to not be the one having to give the orders in this particular situation.
“Well, first I’m going to have to make it so we can slip through all these wards undetected. Most of them seemed to be devoted to keeping unwanted attention away from this house, including alerting the warder about any interference or anomalies.” Charles frowned as he observed the house. “It makes sense now why none of the neighbors have stepped in about these kids being abused.”
“How so?” inquired Phil.
“If someone focuses on this home with the intent to discover exactly what’s going on inside or to intimately get to know the residents, the wards will shift their focus away making them forget their intentions. If a person is just coming to visit, whether with the purpose of business or friendly overtures, than nothing happens. However, anything concerning an inquiry more intimate or under the surface results in the wards becoming active and alerting the warder of possible trouble. This is part of the reason we drove here instead of just teleporting to the place. The wards here prevent such things happening. I would just rip through them if it wasn’t for the fact it would most definitely alert the warder and we probably wouldn’t have enough time to get away with the kids easily.”
“Someone’s actively making it impossible for others to interfere with this family, including helping them or rather these boys,” said Phil with barely repressed anger. How could someone be okay with this? They had to know what was happening and yet they were actively making sure things stayed the same. If he found out who…
“No just anyone, Albus Dumbledore, the so called leader of the light in the British Wizarding World. I don’t know what the old man is up to but it ends today.” Charles closed his eyes concentrating, no doubt gathering his magic to do what he needed to. It wasn’t long before Phil felt a tingling sensation over his skin as the magic settled over him.
Charles opened his eyes again with a determined look on his face. “Come on, let’s get this over and done with. We’re going go up, knock on the door, and say we’re Child Protective Services here to investigate allegations of abuse, which is mostly true for us in a way. I’ve made sure to make us and the car unnoticeable so as to keep the attention of the neighbors away from us, the wards around the house will take care of anything that happens inside if things go bad.”
Phil nodded, making sure to check that his weapons were securely on him before stepping outside of the car and shutting the door behind him. “I’m guessing we’ll only have the uncle to deal with since the aunt is sick in the hospital?”
“Yes, there’s another aunt, the sister of the uncle who comes to visit, but if she was here there would be another car in the driveway and intelligence listed her as attending some dog show since she’s a breeder.”
Phil was glad at the fact they would just have one obstacle of resistance. Hopefully though there would be little resistance at all. A foolish and unlikely hope but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.
The two began to calmly walk up the pathway towards the house until they heard the first noise. There was a crash, soon followed by loud yelling. Phil and Charles turned to look at each other in alarm. Not a second later a pained scream came which spurred the two into action. Charles took the lead and with a wave of his hand the front door slammed opened admitting them in.
What they found inside was an enormous whale of a man who looked to almost be purple in the face standing over a dark haired boy who was laying on the ground bruised and bloodied, while he also held another boy who was blonde by the arm, which was twisted at an unnatural angle causing his face to be scrunched up in pain and tears to run down the boy’s face.
Within seconds Phil had his gun out pointing it at the man’s head before he even turned to see who had entered the house.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?! HOW DARE YOU COME BARGING INTO MY HOME! GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!!” The fact that Phil had a gun pointed at his head didn’t even seem to faze the man, though the reason for that could possibly be the fact that he seemed to be extremely drunk.
“You won’t be calling anyone,” said Charles in a deadly calm voice. “I suggest you let go of the boy and step away from both of them.”
“WHO ARE YOU TO ORDER ME TO DO ANYTHING! HE’S MY SON, I’LL DO AS I PLEASE WITH HIM! GET OUT BEFORE I MAKE YOU!” Vernon took a threatening step towards them which caused him to pull on Dudley’s injured arm, eliciting a cry from him.
Phil cocked his gun while Charles held his hands out and began to take steps forward. “You don’t want to do that Mr. Dursley. Just calm down, let the boy go and things won’t have to get messy.”
“MESSY!?” the man belligerently spluttered before he suddenly let go of the boy and launched himself at Charles who he no doubt must have been seen as the least threatening. It was a mistake if there ever was one.
In the blink of an eye Charles had Dursley spread out on the floor wrapped up in chains with a broken nose. Unsurprisingly, this development didn’t stop the man from cursing up a blue streak about freaks, putting them in their place and how he wouldn’t stand for such treatment. He was promptly ignored in favor of the children.
Pocketing his gun Phil moved to check up on the boy on the floor who seemed to be barely conscious as Charles grabbed the other who had fallen from his sudden release.
From the dark hair and lightning bolt scar slightly visible through the blood he deduced this was Hadrian Potter. Putting his limited medical knowledge to use he checked over the boy’s injuries seeing he had a cracked jaw, a large cut over his forehead, a black eye, bruised, possibly broken ribs and bruising just about everywhere on his body.
“Hey little guy, can you hear me? Just nod you head if you understand me,” said Phil softly trying his best not to scare the boy.
Cracking his one good eye open, Harry observed him for a second before nodding. There was fear and wariness in his eye and Phil couldn’t say he blamed him for it.
“Okay, listen up Harry. Me and my cousin are going to take you to get medical attention alright? We’re here to take you away from your uncle. Take you and your cousin to a safer place.”
Again Harry simply nodded though there seemed to be a bit of relief in his eyes.
“Now to do this I’m going to have to lift you into my arms. This is most likely going to be very painful for you but I need to carry you so I can get you the help you need. Do you think you can handle it? I promise the pain won’t last long.”
Harry seemed to hesitate as if debating the merits of dealing with even more pain to get the help he needed or simply staying where he was and coping. After about a minute he seemed to reach a decision and nodded.
“Okay, on the count of three. One…two….three,” as gently as he could Phil lifted Harry into his arms, wincing as the boy whimpered in pain squeezing his eye shut and clenching his jaw, no doubt causing him even more pain since his jaw was cracked.
Eventually, the boy relaxed though the grip his arms had around Phil’s neck only tightened. Satisfied that Hadrian was safely secured in his arms Phi turned to see Charles also had the other boy, Dudley he recalled, in his arms being mindful of his broken arm. While Dudley seemed the least injured he was just as shaken up as Hadrian was, though tears were streaming down his face.
Sparing another glance at Dursley he saw that the man was still spewing hate filled speech but wasn’t as loudly vocal about it as before. Yet, Phil found his current string of sentences interesting.
“It’s all his fault! Having that freakishness around is what killed Petunia! I should have killed him the moment he showed up! We didn’t even want him but that bastard made us keep him! Then he went and passed it on to my own son! My own flesh and blood now a freak who helped kill his own mother! I’ll kill them both! Yes, that’ll end! Kill them and they won’t be able to hurt anyone else with their freakishness! Yes, I’ll…”
Whatever Dursley was about say next went unheard as suddenly a strip of duct tape appeared over his mouth. Phil turned to look at Charles.
“Well, that’s enough of that. No need to let them hear any more of that nonsense. Let’s get these kids the help they need first. We’ll come back for Dursley later,” Charles had a malicious smile on his face, no doubt plotting all the things he would inflict on the disgusting man.
“I’m assuming one of the safe houses is prepped and ready for our arrival in case this happened,” stated Phil.
Charles nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to teleport us there so the children can get the help they need. Then we’ll come back here and get everything we need from the house and Dursley.” Using a hand he closed the open door and stepped over towards Phil and Harry.
Placing a hand on Phil’s shoulder, they were soon gone only to appear a second later in a large room which resembled a top notch medical facility.
There was a sharp gasp at their entrance and Phil turned to see man and woman in scrubs standing around one of the four medical tables in the place, no doubt waiting for them to arrive.
Whatever surprise they first had at their sudden arrival was soon pushed to the side as they ushered him and Charles to put the boys down gently on the tables.
As Phil watched them work on restoring the boys to perfect physical health through a use of normal and magical means, he couldn’t help but worry about their mental health. He knew all too well that mental wounds took a lot longer to heal than physical ones. They would be his responsibility soon and as such it was his job to make sure they were well taken care and happy.
Phil sighed as he, for the moment, pushed aside the hardships he knew he would have to face in the future and instead focus on the one’s in front of him now. He would have to find a way to get the boys to trust him since after they were fixed up, he would be taking them home with him unless he was wrong about what his instincts were telling him, though he doubted it. It was a task he knew would be a difficult feat.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he looked to see it belonged to Charles who had a hard look on his face. Phil nodded while clenching his jaw as they were teleported back to the house.
And of course, how could he forget, there was the matter of taking care of Vernon Dursley.