"Is it ever right, in your opinion, to set aside one's own moral and cultural beliefs and act in defiance of them, if those beliefs are themselves a danger and impairment to those others that hold them, in order to protect those that yet believe?" - Hadrian Peverell

It was never supposed to be so complicated.

Albus Dumbledore let out a sigh as he sat in the study of his home, and placed a letter on his desk. Contrary to popular belief, he did actually have a home outside of Hogwarts (Partly due to the fact that a sitting member of the Wizengamot had to own a patch of land with property upon it.). It was a humble cottage in Cornwall, small enough to navigate around easily, and keep tidy.

He was getting old, after all, and his House Elf, Nipsy was not as old as he once was, but the Elf still carried himself with the dignity of a content and loyal servant (the fact Albus had him wear a uniform with his family crest upon it ensured that, when acting on business for his master, no one actually bothered him. It was a Pureblood tradition, though a few families did not subscribe to it, the Malfoy's being a notable example). Nipsy kept his little cottage clean and safe whilst he was at Hogwarts.

He was working on the start of year paperwork. It was dull, tedious work, but not overly taxing. It allowed his mind to wander a little. His hopes, concerns, thoughts and feelings towards the major event that he would have to oversee this year.

His mind turned, as it often did these days, to Tanith Potter. The Girl-Who-Lived was about to head into the fourth year of her education. He held onto the hope that, whilst her year would be busy, the reasons for it being so wouldn't involve her. After the business with Quirinus in her first year, the Basilisk in the second, and Pettigrew escaping Azkaban in the third, she quite frankly deserved a break from it all.

This in turn led, as it also often did, to his mind turning to Harry Potter. The only son of James and Lily Potter, and the eldest of three children. The Boy-That-Ran. It pained him to think that that name was all that was truly left of the eldest Potter child. A nickname. One that was sneered at. The heir so jealous of his sister he ran away. It was bollocks, Dumbledore thought. Harry James Potter was many things. Scholarly. Quiet. Protective. A dedicated elder brother. Never jealous.

But, for reasons no one could tell, one morning, when the youngest of the Potter children had gone to wake her brother up, she found the room empty. A letter was on his desk, along with his Heir's Ring.

Oh, the Potter's had searched for him. All but turning Magical Britain upside down to find him, contacting the European Ministries to see if they could find him. James had even used his position as an Auror to search the houses of 'former' Death Eaters in a bid to find any 'new' family members they might be hiding.

But the Potters had never found their son.

What they had found, was a letter from Gringotts waiting for them upon their return home one day, reporting that a claimant of the Peverell line had been found, and that, whilst the new 'Lord Peverell' would permit them to still claim descent from Ignotus Peverell, they could no longer have access to the Peverell Gringotts Vaults (and had the Peverell Estate still existed, they would have lost rights to that too).

It truly didn't affect the Potter's all that much, all things considered. Whilst once, someone could hold multiple seats in the Wizengamot due to multiple Family Lordships, after the Ministry of Magic was founded in 1707, and the Wizengamot Reforms of 1710, the Noble Families could only have a single seat. It had helped that the Reforms of 1710 had ceased the creation of new Nobility. The Nobles still made up the older half of the Wizengamot chamber, whilst the rest of the chamber was technically elected. Of course, political corruption being what it was, most of those that were elected were often allies of those in the older half. Even then, barely half of those elected were of Muggle birth. They could have contest the matter, but so soon after their son's disappearance, they could not bring themselves to drag the frankly minor matter through the courts. It was a title they did not use, nor need. It was a simple matter to give it to someone that actually could put the title (and rank) to use.

So it was that Lord James Potter ceded the Peverell Lordship to its mysterious new holder (with the appropriate apologies for any offence taken, of course. James Potter, despite his prank filled younger years, had actually taken to politics well in recent years.). Lord Peverell paid his taxes, played the diplomat, and sent polite declinations of all invitations he was sent, citing that he was focusing on his education for now.

And yet, until this morning, all he had had from the boy ever since was a simple, five word message around the time his sister was supposed to start school.

Take care of her.

-HJP

He had done so, of course. That was the deal he and Harry had struck, after all. Whilst he was a firm member of the Reformist Party of the Wizengamot (which might as well have been called the Light Faction), that did not mean he didn't know how to fake someone's death.

It was surprisingly, and concerningly easy to fake Harry's death. Gringotts had been an immense help. The Goblin's had done so with ugly grins, cheerfully committing to the barely legal action, obviously amused that he, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was prepared to do such a brazen thing. And so Harry James Potter 'died', and Hadrian Johann Peverell had being 'born'. He had enrolled in the Durmstrang Institute, and….nothing. Not a word from the boy until Tanith started at Hogwarts. It had assuage his concerns a little. He still cared for his family

He sighed as he reread the letter in his hand, and smiled contentedly. It was written in an elegant, aristocratic hand, carried by a familiar snowy white owl. Hedwig was known to only a few in Britain, though only he knew of the original identity of the bird's owner.

I'm in.

-HJP

Good, Albus thought. It meant that Harry..Hadrian, he supposed, had made it into the Durmstrang delegation that was attending that year. He had considered sending Karkaroff an owl, 'requesting' that he bring the young man with him, but had hesitated. It would have been too easy. Too much like manipulation. Too much like Tom. Like Gellert.

Albus Dumbledore disliked having to use such distasteful methods in order to deal with Voldemort. But the fury of elder brothers was something to behold. Something that was hard to rival. To overcome.

He would know, after all.

This is my attempt at the now 'classic' WBWL trope. Harry is the elder sibling of Tanith by two years, and really isn't the Boy-Who-Lived. However, he 'ran away' the summer before starting Hogwarts (also known as elder brothers are not people you want to annoy, especially when they are Potter's.), and has been missing for five years at the start of the story. Whilst there will be some bashing, it will be limited.

This starts in Fourth year, as I am sure you've surmised already, and will hopely have sequels that go into later years.