The Forgotten Son

For over eight years, Harry put up with the treatment of his relatives. He got used to doing all the cooking, cleaning and gardening and even the punishments that came with not living up to the near impossible standards set for him. He survived off the bread and cheese he was fed once a day without complaint, simply stealing snacks to hide in his cupboard (Harry refused to entertain the idea that the food he stole was simply left there in the open for him after his relatives went to bed- he didn't want false hope). 

Sometimes, as he lay awake at night in his cupboard, Harry envied his parents and brother for being dead. Uncle Vernon told him once, the only time he ever explained it, that his parents were drunkards. His father was driving their family home one night, drunkenly of course, and crashed the car- killing himself, his wife, and Harry's twin brother- whose name he didn't care to remember. Harry unfortunately survived unharmed, as Uncle Vernon said himself, and was left to them against their will as his mother had been Aunt Petunia's younger sister.

Whilst, yes, sometimes Harry envied them for dying, more often he resented them. For dying together and leaving him here, in hell. Alone.

•••

The 18th of March 1990 started out like any other day. There was no warning signs that this would be the day that changed Harry's life forever.

He had been cleaning the bathroom, you see. He was only half finished, not that it mattered to Uncle Vernon- who stomped up the stairs and began shouting about how bad of a job the useless little freak was doing.

Vernon took off his belt, as usual, preparing to punish the boy for his failures. Harry flinched back, preparing for the blow, but before it could come, Vernon had been thrown against the wall in the hallway by an invisible force before tumbling down the stairs.

Harry stared at the wall in shock, and then down at himself. He knew, somehow, deep down, that he had done that. But he didn't know how. Why now? He had prayed before, when he was younger and still had hope in the God that he had learnt about when dragged to Church, to protect him to no avail. How had he done that to Uncle Vernon?

He was brought out of his thoughts by Aunt Petunia's shrill shrieks at the bottom of the stairs, and he crept slowly out of the bathroom to look at what he had done.

There was so much blood. It pooled around Vernon's large body as it lay misshapenly on the floor at the bottom of the stairs- his limbs at odd angles and his eyes glazed and unseeing.

Harry knew he should be upset, maybe even sick, at the sight before him, but he felt nothing other than the slightest hints of relief.

At nine years of age, Harry had killed a man, even if he didn't know how.

He did not regret it for a second.

•••

The next two weeks were chaotic in Number 4, Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon's death was ruled as accidental- he had suffered an unexpected heart attack at the top of the stairs, and fallen, breaking his neck. No one suspected Harry had done something freakish. Then came the funeral- which Harry attended wearing (shockingly) new clothes instead of his cousin's much larger hand-me-downs, albeit only to keep up appearances, surely. Harry wasn't asked to do any chores. In fact, every time he met his aunt's gaze she looked almost... regretful? No, that couldn't be right, could it?

After the condolence visits had finally tapered off to a welcoming end, Harry was awoken one morning at the crack of dawn to Aunt Petunia pulling open the door to his cupboard- handing him a rucksack of new clothes and telling him to shower and make himself presentable. 

She didn't give him a time limit, but Harry was fast anyway. He looked through the rucksack and was shocked- it didn't just contain a change of clothes, it contained multiple changes of clothes and an unfamiliar storybook titled 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. Brows furrowing, Harry dressed quickly before he looked through the front compartment of the bag, finding unfamiliar documents on a material that Harry was sure was not paper.

Certificate of Magical Birth

Name: Hadrian Cygnus Potter-Black

Date of Birth: 31st of July, 1980

Blood Status: Pureblood (through recognition of Blood-Adoption)

Father: James Fleamont Potter (Pureblood) (Deceased)

Mother: Lillian Rosemary Potter née Evans (Muggleborn) (Deceased)

Blood-Adopted Parent(s): Sirius Orion Black III (Pureblood) (Alive)

Siblings: Charlus Fleamont Potter (Halfblood) (Alive)

Godparent(s): Sirius Orion Black III (Alive), Severus Tobias Snape-Prince (Alive)

Registered titles: Heir-Successor to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black

What the hell? Magical? 

Before Harry (Hadrian, his name is Hadrian) could process anything more, the bathroom door opened and Hadrian was met with the nervous gaze of his Aunt.

"Found that already, have you? Come downstairs, then. I need to explain a couple of things before we leave."

"Where- where are we going, Aunt Petunia?" Hadrian asked.

The woman sighed again, "Downstairs, H- Hadrian," her voice broke on the name, "I'll explain there."

As Harry sat timidly down on one of the sofas that he was never allowed to sit on, he realised that that had been the first time his aunt had ever called him by his name.

"Now," Aunt Petunia began, clearing her throat awkwardly and looking everywhere but at Hadrian, "I'm sure you seen that document said magical, yes?"

Hadrian nodded.

"I'm going to tell you something that I should have told you from the very beginning. V-Vernon didn't want you to know, I'm s-" she trailed off, and coughed, before gathering herself, "I'm sorry. For letting him treat you that way. For not stopping him, for not insisting you were given more food. Leaving food out for you to hide was not good enough."

Harry was frankly gobsmacked, but he managed to mutter out a weak, "It's alright, Aunt Petunia."

She sighed again, "It's not alright, Hadrian. I really am so sorry, even if it doesn't change things. Now, for what that document said. What Vernon told you about your parents was not true."

"W-what?"

"Your parents, James and L- Lily, were not drunkards. They did not die in a car accident. They were wizards, who died in a war protecting you and your twin brother- who I myself believed was dead until I dug out the copy of your birth certificate. I'm afraid I know nothing about this war, other than the fact that a man your mother referred to only as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named went after your family. Your parents sacrificed themselves for yourself and your brother to live. You yourself are a wizard, Hadrian. I- I've seen you float plates without meaning to, I've seen you make those little balls of light. I kept it from Vernon to protect you, but now I realise I should have taken you to the side and told you."

"I don't know what to say, Aunt Petunia. T-thank you for telling me."

Magic, Hadrian thought. He was a wizard. That's how he had did what he had to Uncle Vernon. He still had no regrets.

Aunt Petunia gave her Hadrian a sorrowful smile, producing a tiny trunk from her pocket, "Lily came here in quite a panic two days before she passed, and gave me this- telling me that if anything happened to her, it was in her and your father's will for yourself and your brother to come here and take this from me. It's a magical trunk filled with things from your parents- with a wand, which wizards use, it can be enlarged up to its actual size and then opened. I'm giving it to you now before we leave."

Hadrian nodded, putting the trunk carefully into the rucksack, "Where is it we're going?"

Aunt Petunia swallowed thickly, "I'm afraid that without Vernon's pay, I cannot afford to keep this house running any longer- Dudley and I are to move in with Marge until I get back on my feet, and I know that I simply cannot bring you there with us. Marge has made her dislike of you very clear, and I cannot expect you to live there with her and that demented dog. Thus, I think the best thing to do is to bring you to the Ministry of Magic so you can be adopted by magical relatives- I know your bound to have some, especially with your birth certificate showing three legal parents. As you are a magical child, I should not have been anywhere close to the top of the list of choices for your guardianship- let alone the first choice."

"So this is the last I'll see you?"

"I would not be opposed to keeping in contact with the occasional letter, Hadrian, even meeting from time to time. I know I have failed you over the years, but you are still the last connection I have of my sister. You look almost exactly like her, you know. Your face and your eyes are all her and your hair is very much your father's. You look like someone else too, in your bone structure, and I assume that would be your blood-adopted father, Sirius."

Harry was stunned by that comment, never mind everything else that had been dropped on him this morning, "I- I would like to keep in contact, Aunt Petunia. Thank you."

She gave him a small smile, "Shall we, then?"

•••

The drive from Surrey to the Office of Muggle and Magical Liason in London was to take almost two hours, and Aunt Petunia encouraged Hadrian to read the storybook in his rucksack as they drove.

"It was your mother's copy, Hadrian. It's a book of stories that all wizarding children grow up hearing. Lily bought it the first time she went to Diagon Alley, when she was doing her Hogwarts shopping."

"What's Diagon Alley? Or Hogwarts?"

"Oh God..." Aunt Petunia muttered, before launching into an explanation of everything she knew about the magical world.

Hadrian didn't end up reading very much of the book during the car journey, but he did understand a lot more about the wizarding world- even if Aunt Petunia did warn him her knowledge could be slightly out of date now.

By the time they arrived, Hadrian was excited about the world he would be soon entering- even if he was now apprehensive about leaving his aunt.

He slipped his hand into Petunia's own when she offered it to him, as they walked towards a rather grand building that simply said "Liason Office" outside.

"It's discreet because of something called the Statute of Secrecy, Hadrian. It aims to keeps muggles, the non-magical people like me, separate and unknowing of the magical world. From what Lily told me, most magical buildings and places, even whole towns, have muggle-repelling and notice-me-not charms on them to keep them hidden. This building is just marked rather plainly because muggles who know of the magical world can go here too. Have you heard of the witch trials, yes? They happened on a much larger scale than you would have heard in a non-magical school, and threatened magical people with extinction. The Statute was then created to separate the two worlds for protection. The only muggles who know about the magical world are those who have a magical relative- a muggleborn witch or wizard, like your mother."

Hadrian nodded, "Thank you for explaining."

Aunt Petunia flashed him a small smile as they stepped into the building.

They were greeted inside the building's reception by a woman in what Hadrian could only describe as robes, who greeted them politely. Hadrian looked at the name plate on her desk which read 'Henrietta Edgecombe - Receptionist'.

"Good morning, ma'am, how can I help you today?"

Aunt Petunia cleared her throat slightly, "Good morning. I'm looking to speak to someone from the Department of Magical Child Services?"

The woman's eyes widened slightly before she schooled her expression, "Of course, may I have a brief explanation of the issue at hand, Ms...?"

"Ms Petunia Evans-Dursley," Aunt Petunia said, stressing her maiden name (Hadrian's mother's maiden name), "I've been the guardian of my nephew, a magical child who is not a muggleborn for the past eight years and I do not believe he was actually formally placed with me at all."

"Goodness..." the woman trailed off, and Hadrian watched in wonder as she waved a wooden stick (a wand) and a perfectly folded paper plane appeared out of nowhere and flew up a large glass tube, "Please wait me just a moment, a response to something of this nature should be almost instantaneous."

Sure enough, a mere minute later, another paper plane flew down the tune and into the woman's hands, and she quickly skimmed it before standing up.

"Please follow me this way, you will be meeting Damian Rowle, Head of the Department of Magical Child Services, and Ursula Travers, who is the magical equivalent of a social worker."

When they entered the room, Hadrian was expecting the two to be intimidating- but he was very much mistaken. Damian Rowle was a tall, pale and somewhat imposing man that Hadrian could guess was around forty, but he had a kind face and smiled kindly at him when he entered the room. Ursula Travers was a short and rather dainty woman around her early twenties who gave Hadrian a warm smile.

"Thank you for escorting our visitors, Miss Edgecombe," the man said, inclining his head before she left, "Would you two mind taking a seat?"

"Of course not," Aunt Petunia said, not letting go of Hadrian's hand as she pulled him down beside her.

"I'm Mr Damian Rowle, Head of Department, and this is Ms Ursula Travers. Now, it was mentioned on the note that your name is Ms Petunia Evans-Dursley, yes?" he asked, and Aunt Petunia nodded, "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am. What is your name, young man? Your full name, if you don't mind."

"My name is Hadrian Cygnus Potter-Black, sir."

Ms Travers gasped, a hand covering her mouth, and Mr Rowle looked equally shocked.

"I take it the location and guardianship of my nephew were unknown to the department?" Aunt Petunia asked, looking rather uneasy.

"I- well, yes," Mr Rowle said, "Would you mind informing us of how this arrangement came into place? Then we can inform you of what we thought was the case."

Petunia smoothed out her skirt and nodded, "I woke up at roughly 6:30am on the morning of the 1st of November 1981 to place an empty milk bottle on the doorstep outside, and was instead greeted with a small basket containing my nephew here- who was wrapped in a thin blanket and was freezing to touch. God knows how Hadrian survived, it was freezing that night. I was informed of my sister and her husband's deaths through an informal letter, which I have here and will read before turning it over to you, and I have not been contacted by the man who signed this letter even once over the past seven years."

"Merlin..." Ms Travers gasped.

Petunia cleared her throat, before beginning to read.

Dear Mrs Dursley,

I write to inform you of the deaths of your sister, one Lily Potter, her husband, James Potter, and one of your nephews, Charlus Potter, last night at the hands of a terrible wizard- the Dark Lord Voldemort.

The reason he targeted your sister's family are unknown, but it could very well be because of his hatred for those without magical ancestry- such as your sister.

As the last living relative of your other nephew, Harry Potter, I unfortunately must impose the child on your family. The child is magical, yes, but I sense a darkness in him- I advise you to distance yourself from the boy for he will surely grow to commit truly awful deeds. Keep him alive, and use a firm hand if needs be.

So long as you keep the boy, I will provide a sum of money monthly for his 'upkeep' from the Potter accounts. I would recommend not informing the boy of the magical world to ensure he does not learn to wield dangerous magic so young.

I have ensured the placement of wards around your property that will prevent Ministry departments from being alerted to the presence of a magical child or any complications.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

"Dumbledore?" Ms Travers gasped, "He didn't even use Master Potter-Black's given name!"

Petunia nodded, and pushed the letter towards them on the table. She pulled out the copy of Hadrian's birth certificate too, for good measure, and bank statements which must show the deposits paid into her account.

"As I have noted from this, there are two clearly named living people that Hadrian should have went to at least, and I wish that he had- I had never told my husband about my sister being a witch and he took Hadrian as some sort of bad omen. He treated him horribly, and I couldn't stop it- as much as I wished I could, I feared his tempter too much. My husband died two weeks ago, and my son and I are to move in with my husband's sister who despises Hadrian- thus I decided now is the time to work out what in the hell happened here, and return Hadrian to the world he should have grown up in."

"My sincerest apologies for your loss, Ms Evans-Dursley. Wizarding Britain was of the firm belief that Hadrian here was dead, and fully unaware of the fact that he is also of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black," Mr Rowle said.

"Dead?" Hadrian echoed frowning.

"Yes, unfortunately. Albus Dumbledore was the first on scene after your parents' deaths, and he informed us that you were nowhere to be found. He insisted that he had performed locating charms and they had shown you as deceased. Albus Dumbledore is a very powerful man in our society, you see, and I presume no one questioned him. Your twin, Charlus, was placed with family friends- the Weasley family."

"I distinctly remember Charlus' godparents being named as Alice Longbottom and Remus Lupin," Aunt Petunia said, her eyes narrowed, "Were the wills ever unsealed?"

"As far as we have on Ministry files, the Potters left no wills," Ms Travers said.

"That's- not true. At all. Lily and I saw each other every couple of weeks, right up until two days before she passed. She told me when they filed their wills at Gringotts."

"This is just getting worse and worse, isn't it?" Mr Rowle said with a grim smile, "As for Hadrian's wizarding guardians, Heir Sirius Black has been incarcerated in Azkaban, a wizarding prison, since the 1st of November 1981 for his betrayal of the Potter family and the murder of 12 muggles and one Peter Pettigrew, who tried to apprehend him. Lord Severus Snape-Prince was convinced of being a Death Eater, although he did not serve prison time, and thus is unlikely to be ruled upon favourably as a guardian."

"Sirius Black was not the Potter's secret keeper, Mr Rowle," Petunia said slowly, "Peter Pettigrew was. Did Black have a trial?"

"I presumed so... Albus Dumbledore publicly stated that Heir Black was the secret keeper. I think this is going to need to heavily involve the DMLE."

"Dumbledore was the caster of the Fidelius charm on my sister's home. He would have known that Pettigrew was the secret keeper."

"Merlin above, Mrs Evans-Dursley, would you be willing to testify in a trial?"

"Of course," she said, with a grim smile.

•••

Hadrian was kept out of it all as much as possible, but Aunt Petunia had informed him that the Head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, was aiming to gather as much evidence as physically possible to build a case against Dumbledore (as difficult as it was proving) and than Sirius Black, his godfather and technically father, would soon be getting a trial- as it turns out he simply hadn't and the lack of trial was covered up in the chaos of the time.

Three weeks after the initial meeting, Hadrian was called in to meet his closest living magical relatives- Sirius' parents, Orion and Walburga Black, and grandfather, Lord Arcturus Black III. Aunt Petunia dressed both herself and Hadrian as formally as possible, and reminded Hadrian carefully of his manners- briefly explaining what little she knew of Pureblood etiquette from a book of Lily's she had read years ago.

Aunt Petunia insisted on waiting outside, and so Hadrian was led to the room by Mr Rowle and Ms Travers.

He didn't know what he was expecting from these new relatives, but he was surprised. They were regal, yes, and effortlessly put together, but they looked kind and all three smiled at him pleasantly upon his entrance.

"Lord Black, Mr and Mrs Black, this is Hadrian Potter-Black, as you were informed."

"Well met," Hadrian said with a polite nod of his head.

"Ooh," Mrs Black cooed, "Very polite. Well met, Hadrian, dear."

Hadrian warmed up to the Blacks almost immediately in the two hours they spent getting to know each other. Grandmother Walburga, as he now called her, was a woman who clearly adored family and was quick to count him as such as she fussed over him. Grandfather Orion was a quiet man, but his soft words still put Hadrian at ease. Great-grandfather Arcturus seemed a stern man at first glance, but it was clear in his eyes that he had a soft spot. Frankly, Hadrian was eager to live with them- especially after they told him he could still have contact with his Aunt. He was rather glad that the Department of Magical Child Services had deemed them worthy guardians.

•••

Hadrian had thrown himself into his lessons with the Blacks with glee over the coming months- quickly catching up to the level of other children his age. Alongside the lessons of English and Mathematics that he was familiar with from the muggle world, he learnt magical history, basic runes, pureblood etiquette, beginner spells, and Heir preparation. He was sure that some children his age would resent lessons, but he adored them, adored his family for taking him in and giving him such a wonderful opportunity.

He was healthier now, too- finally eating three meals a day alongside nutrient potions brewed by his Uncle Regulus. Hadrian had grown a couple inches, finally catching up to a normal height for his age, and filled out some, his ribs no longer prominent. His eyesight had been healed with potions, giving Hadrian perfect vision without a need for glasses. He was also seeing a mind healer- helping him deal with all Uncle Vernon had done. He confided in both his family and the mind healer about what happened to Uncle Vernon, afraid of how they may react knowing he had killed someone (as unintentional as it may have been)- but they explained to him all about accidental magic in childhood, and how high-stress situations can trigger it. Hadrian was far from the first to have his magic lash out to protect him, and his secret was safe with his family and mind healer regardless.

One morning in early July, Hadrian walked down to the dining room for breakfast to see most of his family there, not just the three other occupants of Grimmauld Place- his grandparents and uncle.

"Good morning, all" he greeted, before sliding into his seat beside Regulus.

"Hadrian, we have had some good news," great-grandfather Arcturus said, "Sirius has been given his trial date- the 11th of July. Next Wednesday."

His eyes widened, "Really? That soon?"

"Yes, Hadrian, he'll be back with us in no time," his grandmother said, with a fond smile."

"I must remind you, Hadrian," his great-aunt Cassiopeia said from further down the table, "That Sirius will be fragile and ill from his time in Azkaban when he returns. You're mature enough to understand this. He will need a lot of help from the healers, and you may not be able to meet him immediately, but you will meet him as soon as possible."

"I understand, Aunt Cass. I just hope he is well soon."

"He may be in a better condition than we fear, although I do not wish to get anyone's hopes up," Regulus added, "Do not forget that Sirius is an Animagus, and smart enough to take advantage of that fact."

There was noises of realisation around the table, and Hadrian furrowed his brow, "How would that have helped him?"

"In the research I have done into the topic recently, I have found that those in their Animagi form are not as negatively affected by the presence of Dementors. Seeing as I discovered this in a book covered in Sirius' own handwritten annotations about Animagi, I would suspect he is fully aware of this and has used it to his advantage. So, whilst Sirius will still be ill when he returns home, it should not be to such a grave extent as others in his place."

Hadrian nodded in understanding, thanked Regulus, and began eating his breakfast. As he finished he had a thought.

"Great-grandfather?" he asked, continuing when the man nodded at him, "May I please attend the trial?"

His family looked rather shocked at that, "Do you wish to?"

"Yes. I wish to witness Sirius being declared innocent for myself. Additionally, I have yet to be publicly introduced in the Wizarding world, and I believe this is a prime opportunity to do so. I believe the trial would serve as a grand informal introduction to Wizarding society."

His great-grandfather seemed to ponder it for a moment before looking to his grandparents and nodding, "That is an excellent idea, Hadrian."

Regulus ruffled his hair and pulled him into a one armed hug, "Cunning, eh? You have the makings of a fine Slytherin already, Hades."

Hadrian only grinned in response.