Prologue: An Accident?
It was an accident...maybe...probably...he couldn't quite remember, it all happened so fast. Phineas hadn't meant for Orion to die, truly he hadn't. Or had he? he wasn't sure anymore.
He'd been angry...and scared. He didn't like the way Orion, his grandfather, touched him when he smelled so strongly of Ogden's finest. He had pushed him away and then he'd fallen...Then Orion was dead and it was Phineas' fault. It had been an accident though...Hadn't it?
They'd been at the opposite end of the stair way. If Orion hadn't consumed an entire bottle of the liquor he wouldn't have stumbled awkwardly down the hall or tumbled down the flight of stairs...He wouldn't have broken his neck and died.
Phineas stood at the top of the stair looking in horror at his grandfather. The demonic specter that came to his room at night wouldn't bother him anymore...but Phineas hadn't wished him dead...Had he?
Was he a murderer at 8 1/2 years old? Was what his grandparents (and the rest of the wizarding world) believed of him true? Was he a danger to everyone around him simply because he was a lycan?
It was true that no one else his age would have been able to push Orion so hard...Maybe they were right...Phineas was evil by the virtue of his birth. He'd been born bad, plain and simple.
He couldn't bring himself to move. This was the third (fourth? did Voldemort turning to ash count?) dead body he'd seen. His parents had sent him into hiding with his Godfather, Uncle James. But, Peter (once called Uncle as well, but not anymore) had betrayed them all and told Voldemort where they were hiding. James had died at the door to the house. Lily at the one to the nursery. Phineas had been prepared to die as well. He held his baby god brother in his arms and curled around the one year old with his back to the demonic man. The man cast the killing curse at him and Phineas felt pain like never before rocket through his body. He looked up at the mirror in time to see a surprised look pass over Voldemort's face as he crumbled to dust. The resulting explosion broke the mirror. It fell and but Harry's forehead. An odd light darted into the baby's open cut and it sealed.
Had Phineas killed Voldemort too? Was he just born wrong? Is that why everyone around him had bad things happen to them? Everything was just so confusing to the young boy who was still frozen at the top of the stairs looking down at his dead grandfather's body in shock.
Walburga finally (it had only been thirty seconds but it had felt like hours to Phineas) emerged from the kitchen to see what had crashed down the stairs. She screamed at the sight of her husband's dead body and looked up at her grandson standing at the top of the stairs.
"You killed him!" she screeched. Phineas just nodded...so he was a murderer then, that cleared some things up...he was bad apparently. Was he any different than the death eaters that ran around killing people? Had it really been an accident?
"I know where things like you belong!" She yelled, "Come along, I won't tolerate your presence for another second!" She grabbed his arm and dragged him to the fire place. Still in shock Phineas just let himself be towed into the floor network. He didn't even hear what destination she yelled.
"This thing is a murderous Lycanite! He killed his own Grandfather!" She informed the man behind the desk. Phineas was thrown into a cell and she left.
Still, it had been an accident...hadn't it?
A/N: Please leave constructive criticism.