Haraldas hated Baltimore, majority of the Addams did, and it's why Mad Cousin William chose to live there. He'd met the other halves of his soul and they had decided to live out their reign of terror in sunny little Baltimore. Even though hate for the city was second nature to Haraldas, he knew it well from years of travel back and forth. His Godparents were his favourite family members, they'd rescued him and if it wasn't for them he wouldn't have been an Addams.
Sighing, Haraldas walked up to the stately mansion his dēdē's called a home. Ringing the bell, he didn't have to wait long for the door to open revealing his dēdē. Hannibal had always been punctual, he as the one responsible for Haraldas' punctuality, so Haraldas barely waited a minute for his beloved uncle to open the door. Hannibal had immaculate taste so he wasn't surprised to see his uncle clad in a designer cashmere sweater, a warm looking pair of slacks and slipper encased feet. He looked homely; the perfect picture of innocence, defencelessness and wedded bliss, Haraldas smirked.
No Addams, by birth or by marriage was defenceless or innocent. They were innocent until proven guilty but never innocent in the purest definition of the word, they lived to get away with murder.
"Come in Haraldas," Hannibal purred, opening the door wider allowing the younger male to pass him by. Hannibal wordlessly took his jacket and hung it up in the hallway closet. Out the corner of his eye Haraldas noted the black leather jacket and maroon cello case resting against the wall in the closet. Wandering ahead, Haraldas walked into the kitchen and immediately poured himself a glass. Hannibal followed him and broke his silence after a few minutes, "Vodka mažai angis? A little early even for you" Haraldas shook his head; "It is happy hour somewhere" he answered dryly.
Haraldas stared his Godfather in the eye, watching the fellow beast as they sized each other up, feral cannibalistic hunger barely controlled under the delicate mask of frail humanity. It was almost laughable in nature how such a monster immersed himself so seamlessly into the cloth of humanity.
But, then again, that's what made Dēdē Hannibal so remarkably Addams and fit so well into their family.
He was a killer and so were they.
"Little one, is there a reason why you are here in bright and sunny Baltimore?" The implied 'and not with your betrothed' went unsaid but it made Haraldas' eyes darken and shoot back another glass of the famous Russian alcohol before replying bitingly, "What intended?" His tone of voice mocking and rude.
Hannibal's eyes flashed and he looked directly at Haraldas, "Mažai angis I would watch your tone, it could be seen as being very rude, unnecessarily rude even." Haraldas rolled his eyes and bared his canines at Hannibal before replying in a controlled tone "We've decided to take time apart from each other, it's truly n-"
"So you ended your courtship" A voice rang from the door. It was followed by the stench of salt water and algae. Haraldas' eyes wandered over to the doorway and watched as his dēdē dropped the fish into the bucket by the door. Will wiped his hand and forehead on a cloth from his back pocket.
"I thought you were enamoured with this one." Hannibal asked, making himself comfortable on a chair. Haraldas stared into his glass as he replied, "I was, he was not so enamoured with me dēdē". Will snorted as he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice, "Oh the irony" Hannibal commented as he poured the juice into a glass for Will. The other male smirked before drinking, his eyes twinkling. Haraldas glared at the pair.
"So what do you think happened detective?" he asked, reaching for another bottle from the bar. Will grabbed it first, placing it just out of Haraldas' reach before pouring a glass of water. "I think you were your usual libertine self and he couldn't deal with your promiscuous ways." Will said placing a glass of water in front of his godson. Haraldas grunted in reply and the adults shared a look.
"Honestly Haraldas, was he that important?"Hannibal asked peering down so he and his godson were eye to eye. Haraldas kept eye contact and replied "Do you love teta that much?"
Neither said anything but a look of understanding crossed Will's face and he placed a hand on Haraldas' shoulder and squeezed. Hannibal started to speak as he stood, "Your teta was not under discussion, you were." Haraldas rolled his eyes and stood as well, he spoke quietly but his voice was hard like steal. "This house hasn't been a home since teta left, no matter you do; it will never be the same unless he returns. For Circe's sake his coat still hangs in the closet so does his cello, I saw it dēdē." There was silence and harsh breathing and Haraldas said nothing he walked through the arch way of the kitchen to the front door grabbing his jacket, slamming it behind him as he left.
-Flashback-
"You stood there and let her speak to me like shit. You stood there Haraldas and let me be abused and l-l-let her treat me like I was nothing and you didn't fucking correct her! That's the reason why I'm so fucking upset." Kingsley shouted at Harry, frothing flecks of spit flying from his mouth hitting Haraldas in the face. His face was contoured in an awkward, unflattering shape and the snot from his nose was intermingled with his tears. Haraldas was surprised he could still find something beautiful in the sight of those tears, the tall lithe wizard was bent over, clutching at his stomach as he sobbed as if he had been gutted in the abdomen.
Haraldas stood stoically and watched with weary eyes as Kingsley sobbed and cried in front of him. "Don't you have anything to say?" Haraldas sighed and shook his head, he rolled his eyes at Kingsley before speaking, "Do you not think that this has gone on for long enough? My family prize pledging to the God's more so than others and you make a mockery of yourself and me the longer you hold onto this pitiful religion. I never see you practising this religion and you do not have to pledge for Christianity, your Jewish God cannot grant you any powers or gifts. There is no benefit to follow Christianity, just give it up." His tone was snide and condescending and he sighed before decanting amber coloured liquid into a glass and throwing back his head, drinking it in one gulp.
Kingsley glared at him through watery eyes, his voice was steely but the pain leaked through, "No benefit? What's the benefit in you fucking that political upstart?" Haraldas's eyes flashed in shock, "You thought I didn't know that you were fucking that Jezebel huh? Why not marry him instead? He's plenty dark just like your family wants, and he'll kiss their asses because he needs the monetary support." Kingsley took a deep breath before straightening himself; Haraldas took that as his queue to begin speaking.
"We will not be married if you continue along this path and I will not be held responsible because you decided to place your religion above our relationship, Marvolo has nothing to do with this." Kingsley's eyes narrowed and tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes and a twinge hit a part of Haraldas's heart. Shaking his head, Haraldas turned and he watched out of the corner of his eye as the other wizard tried to remove his bonding bracelet, he poured another drink and continued to watch Kingsley struggle with the clasp. "It's magicked, you can't release it without a counter spell" He said before downing another glass, Kingsley looked up from his wrist and glared, "Fine," he spat, "I'll send it to you then, with our betrothal papers we won't ever be getting married, trust me. I'm glad that I will never have to marry someone as conceited and full of himself like you. Marry that whore; you deserve each other. Atleast you would have never had to check me for a WSTD."
Haraldas's eyes flashed and he threw the glass towards Kingsley, the darker wizard didn't even flinch when the glass shattered next to his head and his only reaction was a tear streaming down his cheek. "Don't talk about him like that." Haraldas sneered staring Kinglsey in his eyes.
There was silence.
"You never defended me like that," Kingsley whispered, "Not even in front of your mother and I am-was your intended, but he, he deserves your protection and I do not?" Haraldas looked away as he raised his hand and the shattered glass jumped up, forming into a glass in mid air and landing on the mantel piece. Raw emotion hung heavy in the air.
"That's the way it is Harry?" The way Kingsley's voice quivered on that name made Haraldas stiffen, "After everything we went through? He is who you're choosing over me?" Kinglsey whispered looking up at Haraldas through dark lashes. In that moment the Addams heir remembered why he'd chosen Kingsley, the other man knew him well, too well in any case. Haraldas' silence meant everything, Kingsley nodded, "I see." He walked to the door and opened it, without looking back he walked out and green eyes watched him.
-Flashback-
It was beautiful. Still beautiful. Obvious that time had been well spent; the ruby was bright red contrasting with the polished gold; but also ostentatious, overpowering and a proverbial chain that had almost suffocated him. Kingsley was almost surprised that it was still in such good condition after all the hell it endured to be removed from his wrist.
It was everything he hated. A bracelet instead of a ring, runes and rubies cluttering the space opals and yellow sapphires would have been if Harry had truly known him like he said he had. Tilting it slightly in the sunlight streaming from the window all he could see was a beautiful chain that symbolised the freedom he had almost carelessly given away.
Kingsley smiled sadly before kissing the large obsidian gem of the bonding bracelet and wrapping it carefully in a white cotton handkerchief he'd recently washed and laying it in a small brown box he'd brought from home. Reaching down he opened his trunk, pulling out a large ornate box that had deep runic etchings with a crest he was all too familiar with. The dark mahogany gleamed as sunlight bounced off the lid and as he rolled his palm over the lid of the box he felt magick crackle under his fingers and he bit his lip slightly as the dark magick caressed his inner core before retreating. Kingsley took a deep breath as he placed the wrapped bracelet into the box, his heart breaking as he rested the dainty chain on the bottom and slowly placed the lid back on. The moment he heard the firm click of the clasp close his heart broke into a million pieces, emotion welling in the pit of his stomach.
Before he lost all his bravery, he twirled his wand over the box and watched it glow before dimming. Kinglsey opened it again and peered in, blank wood stared back at him and he felt the pieces of his heart sink even deeper into the abyss.
He placed the box back into his trunk and closed it quickly before pushing his trunk securely under his seat and sitting back down. He stared down at his shaking hands and in his mind he pleaded with them to stop. His body couldn't deal with another breakdown, not on the train to school, not when he was so vulnerable again. He forced his hands to stop shaking and placed a plastic smile on his face; he'd be fine. Before Haraldas he had survived and after Haraldas he would survive again.
Kingsley's eyes drifted outside and as he watched the rolling hills and green pastures his mind drifted peacefully away and he could feel himself relaxing for the first time in weeks. He said nothing as the carriage door opened and an obviously pureblood woman walked into the room.
She grabbed attention; even though it was only Kingsley present. She was quite tall for a woman and wore her pale luminescent skin flawlessly; it glowed with an innate light that off-set and contrasted to the stormy grey of her eyes. "Kinglsey? Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Kingsley snapped back into attention and stared at the woman, his mouth fell open and he gulped at air before blurting out in shock, "Narcissa?" The tall woman rolled her eyes, the motion seemed cold and derisive but Kingsley could note the hidden warmth, and sat down elegantly opposite the dark skinned male.
"Merry meet Kingsley, I haven't seen you since the Beltane celebration at the Manor, in fact you didn't return for the last term of school." She started her piece by inclining her head and pressing the tips of her fingers together.
Kingsley could hear the probing questions cleverly hidden and smiled slightly at Narcissa, she had always been quite, brazen, in her approach to learning more about his life and honestly, it was her he had to blame for even meeting Harry in the first place not that the end of their relationship had anything to do with her.
Kingsley sighed and straightened himself out, uncurling his feet from where he had been sitting and leaning back into the seat. He glanced out the window momentarily before giving Narcissa his undivided attention. "Blessed be," he started, replying to her earlier greeting and buying him a few seconds "How is your family noble-woman Black and your intended?" He asked, trying his best to replicate her impeccable manners. The older female narrowed her eyes before replying, "I am well Master Shacklebolt. I must correct you to my proper address as Mistress Black and not noble-woman Black. Furthermore, my family is well as they can be and to ask of my intended at this time would be grossly impertinent so I will not answer yet."
Kinglsey's eyes grew wide, "B-but you said that that's how you speak to other purebloods. Isn't it?" Narcissa sighed and leaned back into her seat, "Yes young one but we are not dominants and in polite society you do not ask of one's intended so early in the conversation it makes one look eager and promiscuous also, the use of incorrect address is a dear offence you need to brush up on your pureblood etiquette. Many would be surprised to find that you were raised in an Old Blood house with the way you act sometimes." Kingsley rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the window, "I'm surprised too." He muttered under his breath.
Narcissa looked into Kingsley's eyes and the younger man nodded and began speaking without much prompting. "After spending Beltane with you at the manor I was invited to Litha with his family in America and I unfortunately decided to accept the invitation."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes, "His?" The one word held a million questions and Kingsley looked to the corner, avoiding eye contact, "Yeah, his, him, it" He said trying to lean back even further into the bench.
Narcissa folded her arms under her breasts and glared at Kingsley, "Speak," She commanded and nothing more needed to be said, it was the push Kingsley needed to start speaking.
He breathed deeply, staring into her eyes before blurting out everything. "He decided that I was an embarrassment to him, that my religion was a quirk that needed to be rectified and that I need to change for us to be together." He started tearing up as he spoke, "Cissa he-he let his mother call me a whore and a slut and she accused me of trying to coerce him because I was pregnant. In front of his entire family! He stood there and let me be treated like a harlot! Oh and let's not forget his whore on the side he's forsaken me for. I thought he'd change for me." His voice rose at the end and tears of frustration rolled down his face and cheeks.
Narcissa sat stoically for a few moments before a small sad smile appeared slowly on her face and the maternal aspect of her rose to the surface. She shuffled over to where he sat and ushered him into her arms, she soothed him as he sobbed uncontrollably into her arms, "First things first," She said quietly, "You need to stop crying. Submissive's do not cry, not even when faced with great adversaries, we are powerful and dominating in our own right and only the most dire of a situation should ever break that resolve. Second, start from the beginning."
Kinglsey nodded hiccupping slightly as he quelled his sobs. He nodded, rubbing his eyes with another handkerchief before taking a deep breath and straightening out his posture. "He invited me to meet his parents then left me to the dogs. His mother insulted me, his father politely ignored my existence and I found out that he had a mistress." He hissed the last word and Narcissa raised an eyebrow, "Mistress?" She repeated, Kingsley nodded. "Yes, your new friend, Lord Marvolo Slytherin," at this Narcissa raised an eyebrow. "His sister made it very apparent who she thought was the better match for her brother and I can't say I don't agree. Haraldas would prefer someone of a darker elk than me, well darker in everything but skin colour." Kingsley muttered and Narcissa's eyes dimmed with pain, she brought Kinglsey closer into her chest, "I doubt that skin colour was a primary reason for why the Addams family did not warm to you but if it is, it is there loss. You are exceptionally bright for a light wizard Kinglsey, never be ashamed of that."
Kingsley rolled his eyes, "'for a light wizard'? Really 'Cissa? No wonder people believe dark magic is stronger than light, when people like you are still spouting that propaganda." The older witch rolled her eyes, tapping Kinglsey in the shoulder for mild admonishment but kept him wrapped in her arms. "Did you ever think that we would have been friends?" Kingsley asked still cocooned in her arms. Narcissa gave a slight laugh and shook her head, "I never expected that I would have gotten one of the first light wizards in Slytherin history as my protégé that year, I was hoping for Greengrass." Kingsley smiled slightly and they remained in comfortable silence the rest of the train journey.
Hogwarts wasn't the best school in the world and Kingsley had learned that the hard way. It was a school based on segregation, ignorance and racism and all the joy he had felt welling up inside him, and the joy about leaving behind his family and finally becoming independent had burst and died the day that he was sorted into Slytherin.
Slytherin House wasn't a place for the faint heart or weak willed. The unofficial motto of the house was "Survival of the fittest" and it was struggle and strife at the core, to the outsiders they were a pack, and pack stood together but inside the comfort of their house they were ruthless. It was kill or be killed to establish and remain at the top of the food chain because being the Basilisk and the Medusa of their year was the best position to be in before your descent into pureblood politics. Every parent hoped their child could climb the hierarchy and promote themselves to secure a good future and allies, power was everything.
Pledging was the easiest way to gain power and Slytherin at its core was dedicated to ambition and gaining power. It's occupants didn't have time for light wizards who had a penchant for love, kindness and healing instead of an ambition for power, dominion and leadership.
For years Kinglsey had stayed ostracised and on the outside of the inner politics of Slytherin. He'd never really been a part of the house not until he'd become engaged to Haraldas. The Addams family was legendary for being a dark pureblood family, one of the only families left and possibly the last that properly followed the Old Ways. Not many of the members of Slytherin house even knew why the upper tier of the pureblood hierarchy began leaving him alone but they followed suit like the mindless murderous sheep's they were. Left alone, mentally, physically and socially in a new world, other purebloods had begun taken notice of him after that. With their attention came their condemnation.
Before Haraldas, Kingsley had never worried about pledging or ritual rites etc, he had been quite content as a Christian. His distant Old Blood parents had never been interested in his life from the moment he presented as a submissive and with his younger brother able to become the heir they hadn't paid attention to him since. Even though his parents didn't care, the Slytherin house did.
It was only because of the respect they had for Haraldas that they didn't harass him but Kinglsey knew that as soon as they knew about his broken courtship they would make his life hell.
He lightly grabbed the necklace around his neck and uttered a quick prayer before painting a fake smile on his face and trying to brighten himself up. The fairly large sterling silver cross that hung on a thin silver chain around his neck was the cause of much contention in the house. Slytherin house had been unofficially the house of pagans and wiccans for many years, ever since Salazar Slytherin himself had closed off contact and scholarships to muggleborn wizards due to the witch trials and fear of being killed.
As the carriage pulled up to the school, Kinglsey rolled his shoulders back and straightened his posture and tried to make his mask as emotionless as possible. Walking out of the carriage he held his head high and walked with purpose and pride.
Nothing happened.
No one paid more attention than that which was proper. They looked at Kinglsey then looked away the same way they had done before he'd broken his courtship, as if he were still courting with Haraldas.
It was hard to sleep in a bed without the scent of Haraldas to comfort him.
At the beginning of their courtship his lover had sent him an old cloak infused with his scent after years and years of wear and it had been his comfort when he'd first began courting Haraldas. Their courting hadn't been truly, legal, in the eyes of the Old Ways. Honestly, Kingsley was surprised that someone who was so strict about keeping and upholding the Old Ways would have allowed a not so legal courting to take place, but Kingsley placed that down to his possessive nature. His parents would have never allowed him to marry Haraldas, they like so many, had believed him to be unworthy of Haraldas' hand. That had caused them to not be able to interact and to rectify that Haraldas had taken the initiative to send him his cloak and letter for comfort and Kingsley had been grateful.
His self respect however, and his pride had demanded that he return the cloak as soon as possible so he'd sent it along with the betrothal papers as soon as he returned from America and he hadn't had a good night since. His body was used to sleeping near Haraldas or with his scent nearby atleast and he was suffering from withdrawal symptoms.
As he pulled off his clothing and languished in his nakedness he felt a pull on his magic. It pulled him to his nightstand and to the ornate box in the drawer. Opening it, he pulled out the bound pieces of parchment that were slightly frayed and held together by a braided lock of black hair. He played with them as he lay down in his bed, the papers in hand. He opened the stack and pulled out a random piece from the stack. Opening it, Kingsley laid his head back on the pillows and read.
My Heart,
If when I leave this world, dust is all that remains I hope that my love sieves the ashes to leave you with my heart. It is presumptuous to say that I have a soul, but if I do that belongs to you too because no one will ever understand why the curve off your hip is a perfect match to the palm of my hand or understand why the sound of your breathless moans is my sirens call and greatest temptation. Why minutes without you seem like days and hours, eternities.
I have noticed how hard it is for my blood to circulate my body and warm my veins without a heart to pump it around. Cucciolo, you do not understand the pain I feel when we are apart, I miss the scent of your hair, the sound of your laughter, the movement of your hips and the feel of your touch.
The truth is that I believe you bring out the best in a man that once was broken but is now whole, whose hands is covered in the blood of thousands blood but you still have the bravery to reach out and clasp the fingers of a murderer. That you have a light in your eyes for a man whose light has been lost for some years now and in you I believe that my redemption is possible. In you, my heart will go on.
Not much has touched the stony cage of my heart for some time; I knew you were special when I heard the stutter in your voice but the defiance in your eyes. You are mine Kingsley Shacklebolt, you restore my humanity, my ability to love… to live… to exist….it rests within you, without you I am devil incarnate. Soulless.
To waste away in your presence is better than existing in Aphrodite's. To feel myself trapped, with no fear of blood or flesh, outside time and magic, within your sphere of being, within the very beating of your heart. [1]
The Heaviest punishment in the world should be given to anyone who puts a tear on your face, who tears at your emotions enough for you to leak the liquid of your soul through your eyes and cry your anguish to the Earth. I swear to never harm that part of you, to break you of what makes you so desirable and so mine, to take away your essence. I'd rather die than put a tear on your skin. That is my promise to you cucciolo, that when we are able to marry that is my vow to you. A vow larger than fidelity, bigger than helping you and encompasses more than loving you. I will vow my heart and soul because they are the payment you deserve for bonding to a monster.
Amore, My family is being, difficult, in my pursuit of Asia but I swear to you that when we marry you will have the world at your feet and the power of billions at your fingertips. My dream to bring the world to its knees is in fruition and you will be the lucky consort to witness it all.
As I end this letter, remember my dear that I am watching, I constantly have eyes on you and if you believe that you will be able to get away with a lover while I am away I hope that you will not hate me too much when he dies from my hand.
All my love,
Your Harry
Tears streamed down Kingsley's cheek as he re-read those words, over and over and over again. The promises of fidelity and love as well as the allusions to marriage pulled at his heart. He'd wanted that, all of that, he'd wanted to be Harry's, Haraldas's reason for breathing and it pained him when he wasn't.
Logically, any medi-wizard would have said that their, obsession and fixation with one another would have been a cause for concern but Kingsley didn't care. It was thrilling when Harry had threatened him with fidelity, punished him for flirty and chastised him for looking at others.
His heart had hurt him when he had accused him of infidelity, but it had broken when his intended hadn't denied the accusations. Instead, Kingsley bore witness to that look he knew so well, the look of heart wrenching pain and guilt. Before he had only seen that look when Harry had left him, after nights of passion and touching that tiptoed on the line of his virginity, but the last time he saw that look Harry had left and taken the broken bleeding corpse of his heart with him.
Kingsley grabbed the letter in one hand, his wand in another. He held his wand high and brought it down in a deliberate movement over the paper before making an arch over the words before doubling back over himself and ending on a flick towards the ceiling, he whispered the words, "Exemplar epistulae in ordinem" and watched the parchment as it rolled up in the air tore itself in half before bursting into colour flames and two identical letters floated gracefully down into his lap. He carefully placed the original back in the stack of letters before levitating them over to his desk. He held the copy in his hand and placed the tip of his wand against a corner "Incendio" he muttered before watching the flame engulf the paper. He threw the parchment on the floor and watched it turn to ash.
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