Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to harry potter. Or the avengers,
And you thought the lions were bad
Well they tried to kill my brothers
And for every king that died
Oh they would crown another
And it's harder than you think
Telling dreams from one another
And you thought the lions were bad
Well they tried to kill my brothers
And felled in the night
By the ones you think you love
They will come for you
And felled in the night
By the ones you think you love
They will come for you
-Bastille
Prologue:
The child was in pain. Unbearable pain, from the open bleeding wound on his forehead. The lightning bolt-shaped cut was still fresh, dripping blood into his hair. He cried out, whimpering. His small breathes created whirling wisps of steam around his head, and they moved to and fro through the cold night air. The child stopped his wailing for a moment, looking up the little patterns his breaths made.
To any bystander, the shapes the little boy's breaths took would seem impossible. There, in the night sky, framed by stars, were images in total clarity. A beautiful lily flower and a majestic stag.
A dog running, a wolf howling at the moon, and a rat hiding. Laughter pealed from his mouth, and he reached for the steamy clouds, with his eyes sparkling and his face smiling. Suddenly, the door behind him opened, and he resumed his crying, frightened at the loud noises coming from inside the house.
The pictures in the sky faded, and the boy continued to bawl. "Petunia, what on earth are we supposed to do? We can't keep the damned boy… You know very well what he is, and what he is capable of. He could hurt Dudley." A bony, long necked woman bent down and picked up the screaming child, passing the note to her husband. She shushed the baby, and looked at him with a sweet smile, all the while cooing softly.
" Vernon, we can't very well leave him out here to die. He is as much your nephew as he is mine." Petunia hugged the baby close, and suddenly realized something. "Vernon, we could keep him. He could grow up alongside Dudley, and they could be as brothers are. We could steer him away from all the freakishness his parents practiced. Raise him to be a proper young man, and hopefully cure him of his dreadful… illness. Vernon, are you listening?" She looked at her husband confusedly, and saw that he was reading the letter she had handed him.
"What does it say, dear?" she asked. Vernon always had something to say, and him being quiet like this was starting to scare her. "Vernon?" she asked again, unsure of what was causing his reaction to the piece of parchment. He finally looked up from the letter. " Petunia, this child is a… well, you know better than I do. We cannot keep him.
I suggest we take him to the town orphanage, and drop him off. He may be your nephew, but I do not have the money, or the space to afford another child right now. Those stupid people who dropped him off here didn't take any of that into consideration. I cannot pay for it. I know it makes me sound horrible, but he would most likely be shunned in our home. He is not one of us Petunia. He is not normal" Petunia stared at her husband of three years. She had never seen him this calm bout anything. She would have expected him to go red in the face, and start yelling.
She just couldn't help herself and asked him. "How are you so calm about this. I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and your not even sweating. What's gotten into you?" He grimaced slightly, and let out a tremendous sigh. "Whatever my temper, I happen to respect family. I also know my limits. I depend on normalcy. It's all I've ever known. If we accept this child, we are dooming ourselves to never be normal again. Always to be associated with his freakish kind. I cannot live with that." She nodded, guiltily agreeing with him. "Let's take him to the orphanage Vernon." She said tearfully, not even knowing how much she would change the world, just by this decision.
/0000000000/
St. George's School for Boys was a slightly run down orphanage, next to a dilapidated old train station, just on the outskirts of London. It had been there for many years, and was one of only a few buildings left standing after the blitz.
Its coal-stained walls were dark grey, giving it a depressing air. The windows of the place were slightly grimy, and the grass out front and back was just on the verge of being unkempt. Twenty-three boys currently lived there, ages one to seventeen. They weren't the happiest bunch, nor were they the most well behaved children around. The caretaker, Mr. Caudwell, was a grumpy old man, but he did care for the boys.
His wife, Mrs. Caudwell on the other hand, loved children, and always played with them. She specifically loved one boy in particular, Hadrian. He was the best mannered of all the boys, and got along with them just fine. He was well read, lanky and tall for his age, and he loved to play around with the others. All normal attributes for a nine-year-old child.
However, she always saw something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place. She had always known he was very curious and he had proved that when he asked to be taken to the library at age four. She had been delighted, as all the others under her care just wanted to play around in the yard. Over the years, he had read his way through the smallish library across the street.
He had also done extremely well in his studies. He was always top in his class, no matter what the subject. That was all good and well. It meant he was smart, but nothing more. But then the odd things started happening. One of Hadrian's friends broke a vase, and the next minute it was fixed. She had seen the pieces, and seen them come back together.
She didn't get either of them in trouble, and they both had been so happy. Another time, they had all taken a trip to the zoo. The reptile section was highly demanded, and so they all went in. Soon after all the boys got bored, and went to see other things. But not Harry. No, he had stayed, almost as if he was listening to the snakes talk. His attention was solely on the reptiles, and he didn't leave the room for three hours, when it was time to go. There had been other smaller incidents, and then there had been the luck that they had all encountered.
The orphanage had been doing badly in the finance section. But then, out of nowhere, they had found money scattered around the yard randomly. It was a miracle. Yet, the members of the staff were all suspicious, as thefts had been reported all around London. The police questioned all the boys, and they had all been cleared. The people had never gotten their money back either. It was as if something had summoned the money away from the people, leaving no trace or evidence of a theft. Mrs. Caudwell shook her head, and thought no more on it. These things couldn't have been connected, and not by the sweet little boy named Hadrian.
One year later
It had been a truly spectacular Christmas this year. All of the boys had gotten presents, and there had been joyous shouting in the house for days after Boxing Day, as the boys all enjoyed their gifts. On the twenty-ninth of December, a man in a suit had come to the orphanage to adopt. He had been touring around for hours, meeting with the different boys, before meeting Hadrian. They had a nice conversation, about Hadrian's favorite football team, and about who he though would win the Barclays league, before the man shook his hand, and left.
He didn't return for a week, and when he did, he brought another man to meet Hadrian, forgoing all the other boys, just to see him. The other man was more distinct than the man in the black suit, which he was wearing again. This other man was an older gentleman, with his hair graying slightly, and hard lines in his face that prominently displayed his piercing ice blue eyes, enhancing his harsh features.
He wore a pressed grey suit, which looked highly expensive, and had introduced himself to Hadrian as Johnson. After a few hours of almost the same exchange he had with the black suited man, Johnson smiled at Hadrian, patted his shoulder, and told Mrs. Caudwell to make the arrangements necessary for adoption. Hadrian was in a state of complete shock. He had never expected to be adopted, not in his wildest dreams.
He shook out of his daze to thank Johnson, but he had already gone. Mrs. Caudwell had tears in her eyes at the blissful look Hadrian gave her. It warmed her heart to know that this bright young boy would be taken care of. She scooped him up into her arms, and laughed happily with him, as they both relished the moment. He then wiped his tears away, and steadied himself.
"Thank you so much, for everything, Mrs. Caudwell." He said with a trembling voice. She grinned at him. "You should go pack your things Hadrian. That nice Johnson man is coming by at nine sharp tomorrow to pick you up." They embraced once more, and he went to recover his possessions from under his bed, embracing the other children as he went along. He would miss them; after all, they were the only family he had ever known.
But now, he was going to have a true family, with people who loved him.