"How goes the search?" Lucius Malfoy asked tiredly, rubbing his hand over his face before turning to face Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.
"We think Albania. We are leaving in half an hour." Bellatrix replied softly.
"We'll find him, Lucius." Rodolphus placed his hand comfortingly on the arm of his brother-in-law. "How are you faring in getting Rabastan out of jail?"
"Good." Lucius said, perking up immediately. "He's due to be released in two weeks."
"Oh, Lucius, that's wonderful news!" Bellatrix gushed encouragingly.
"Yeah." He said, smiling shakily. "Both Severus and I have missed him very much."
"And what about Draco? How is he?"
"He reacted better than I thought he would. A true Malfoy, that boy, blood related or not. He's enjoying spending time with Narcissa and his father in France. Keeps sending me tiny Eiffel Towers, the brat." Lucius said fondly, though sadness flickered in his eyes.
"Prince would be happy for you. They would have been best friends and co-conspirators." Bellatrix said softly, eyes tearing at the thought of her godson.
Prince Altair Aeviternus Malfoy-Snape-Lestrange-Riddle had been born on the 31st of July 1980. He had been a beautiful baby, with striking blue eyes that were obviously Tom's, shaped like Lucius', high, defined cheekbones that belonged to Severus, a strong jaw from Lucius and rich black locks that fell in ringlets, the curls from Rabastan but the colour once again inherited from his mummy.
Just after his first birthday, he had fallen ill and passed on, on the same night as Tom was killed by the Potter brat.
It was clear to see how heavy the loss of both two of their husband's and their baby boy had weighed on both Severus and Lucius, both of whom had drifted apart until their only real connection was the loss and pain both felt constantly, the ever-present dark circles from lack of sleep and the ritual of mourning every Halloween night.
Currently, it was mid-July of what would have been Prince's first year at Hogwarts. The only upside was that it was the Potter Brat's first year. Lucius and Severus both couldn't wait to unleash utter hell on him. It was, after all, he who killed their beloved Tom.
One month later…
"Is it ready?" Lucius asked Severus Snape as the man puttered around the decadent potions lab of Malfoy Manor.
"Yes." he replied absently.
"Are you certain nothing's gone wrong, because-"
"Yes!" Severus snapped irritably, turning to glare at Lucius defensively. "My potion is perfect. As always, no thanks to you. There is a reason I am considered the best Potions Master in the world, thank you very much!"
Lucius held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender nervously. He had been married to the man long enough to know that you don't mess with his potions, under any circumstances.
"Come on! The ritual is ready!" Bellatrix called down the hall. Both men exchanged glances before grabbing what they required and heading down the hall.
"Rabastan!" they cried in unison, running to embrace the slightly thin but otherwise okay man, their third husband.
The three exchanged kisses and proclamations of love and being missed while both Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked away pointedly, if a little awkwardly.
"Ahem." Bellatrix cleared her throat pointedly. All three instantly unwound from each other's embrace and blushed sheepishly. "Now that that's over with," they blushed brighter, "can we get started? Great." She said without even waiting for a reply. "Positions everyone!"
(Sorry, I can't write Rituals for the life of me so…. Um… use your imagination? Hehe… *I don't know!*)
A figure rose in the middle of the circle, with pale skin and ruby eyes and black hair than fell to his waist.
"Tom!" Rabastan, Severus and Lucius cried in joy.
"Huh? Guys? Wait! Where's-" he was cut off as his three husbands smothered him with hugs and kissed. "Oi!" he yelled, just loud enough to get them all to take a nervous step back. "Where's my baby?" he asked in a panic.
"Oh, yeah!" Rabastan exclaimed. "Where is my little Prince?"
"Don't you remember? He was ill and died on Halloween…" Lucius began uncertainly.
"What? No he wasn't! I remember! He was stolen from us in September and we finally managed to track him down at those godawful Potter's place under the alias of Harry Potter!" Tom argued, Rabastan nodding him agreement.
"What?" Severus choked, Lucius unable to say anything at all.
"How can you not remember our baby?!" Tom snapped angrily. "Oh, god! He's out there, scared and alone and crying for me, I can feel it! My baby…" he trailed off as his breath caught in his throat. His baby!
"But, he passed away from Dragon Pox. I know he did, I can remember it!" Lucius insisted. "I held him as he- he died." He said softly, voice breaking as Severus flinched at the memory.
"Legilimens!" Tom cried without warning, forcing both Severus and Lucius to their knees at the sheer anger and panic in the presence that now rifled through their minds. "Damn him!" Tom screamed, punching the wall in anger and leaving an indent.
"Who? What is it?" Rabastan asked eagerly, not wanting to be left out.
"Dumbledore obliviated them both and gave them false memories of Prince dying from Dragon Pox so they wouldn't try to get him back." Tom laughed bitterly.
"Can you fix it?" Severus asked hesitantly, not wanting to break the obviously thin ice he was metaphorically stepping on.
"Of course." Tom answered shortly, before resuming his glaring at nothing.
"Will you?" he added after a pause.
"Huh? What- oh, right. Sure." Tom said, slightly sheepish as he did so.
Both Severus and Lucius fell over at the sudden onslaught of memories.
Waking up one morning to the sound of Tom screaming and crying hysterically, the empty cradle, feelings of utter desperation and hatred for one man, panicked searched for their baby, the joy at finding him, anger again at discovering who had him, fear at the thought of something going wrong, sending Bella and Rodol to the Longbottom's to create a distraction, the pain and grief at the news of Tom's murder, the anger that spurred them to attack, the fear at they stared down the wand to the cruel old man, the blankness as the memories of the last month were erased, and the pain and grief yet again as new ones, equally as horrible, were implanted there.
The two men cried softly. "How could we forget him?" Severus sobbed softly into Lucius' shoulder.
"I don't know. I just don't know." Lucius' reply was muffled by Severus' shoulder.
Two more figures joined them, and the four husbands clung to each other desperately, seeking comfort.
When they awoke the next morning, it was to their bedroom in the manor that had been uninhabited since that fateful night. Golden sunlight filtered in through the large windows, shining on the white, cream and gold tones of the room and the four figures huddled tightly together on the massive bed.
Tom was the first to awake, and it took him a moment to remember where he was and what had happened.
"Oh my gosh! Guys! Wake up! Wake up right now! We need to find my baby! I want my baby! Get up!" he shrieked as he threw on his clothes and forced his three husbands into their own.
"Okay, all right! We're up, already! Sheesh…" Rabastan muttered, rubbing his head where he had hit it being literally thrown from the bed. A quick glance showed both Severus and Lucius in similar states.
"Love, he's waited ten years. I don't think a few hours will make much of a difference…" Severus started. "Ow!" he cried, rubbing his head where the rather hefty tome thrown at him had reached its intended target.
"Come on, darling. Severus has a point and-" he paused, taking in the death glare being shot at him from Tom. "And we should leave right now in fact! Who needs breakfast? Not us! Let's go everyone!" he quickly back-pedalled, fearing for his life.
Tom nodded his approval, before leading the way into Muggle London.
"Wait." He said stopping mid-stride and causing something of a domino effect in the three men trailing behind them, leaving Rabastan squished into Severus who was waving his arms trying to get off of Lucius who was teetering on one foot, wind-milling his arms in the air in an attempt not to fall on the considerably smaller, seemingly oblivious Tom whom was considerably smaller in stature than all three men. "Where did you say Harry had been living?"
"We didn't." Severus stated simply, his voice slightly muffled by Lucius' jacket.
"And?" Tom prompted.
"Number 4 Privet Drive." Lucius said after several minutes of awkward positions and Tom tapping his foot.
"Good. Now can we go?" Tom made an impatient motion with his arms before turning and striding away.
"Ooh, mate. He's got you guys whipped." A man walking past them said sympathetically, albeit a little mockingly.
"Yep…" Severus. Lucius and Rabastan sighed in unison.
"So, have you heard?" the man asked excitedly.
"Heard what?"
"Harry Potter's here! In London! Today! I can't believe I could be sharing breathing space with THE Harry Potter!"
"Did you just say Harry Potter?" Tom grabbed the man's collar and dragged his face down to be level with his own.
"Yeah! That kid's incredible! They say he has already found and fixed 10 of Einstein's theories! The kid's incredible!" A nearby woman enthused.
"Do you know where we can find him?" Tom asked urgently, desperation clear in his voice.
"Why, of course! He's giving a talk in the bookshop right now on Nuclear Physics!" she squealed. "Here! I'll show you!"
When they reached the bookshop, there was a huge crowd that overflowed into the street and other shops. As it turned out, they had dedicated a radio channel to him for the day, and it was estimated that over 78% of the population were tuned in to hear him.
"Mr Potter!" one reporter called. "How did you come across this discovery?"
"Well, I was working on my thesis about dominant genetics and how they mutate through reproduction and how they react to certain hereditary diseases- by the way, it turns out that if you have, for example, blue eyes and a history of diabetes, and your child has diabetes when they're born, their eyes will be blue but will fade to brown within a month- when I, for some light reading, read Advances in Nuclear Physics, and it struck me, what would happen if I-"
And so the interview continued along that line, with reporters and fans and scientists alike diligently taking notes verbatim while his fathers just basked in awe of their son.
He was perfect, in every way. They couldn't get a clear view of him, as he was on the balcony and they were in the entrance, but his voice was wonderful. It was smooth like silk, like Severus', but a soft tenor like Tom's, with an aristocratic lilt to it like Lucius', and a slightly lower undertone to it that sounded like an echo of Rabastan's.
All too soon, however, he was being escorted through the back of the shop by his hired bodyguards, much to the displeasure of the crowds, which groaned and moaned and cried for him to stay a little longer.
"We, Tower Prep Institute, thank you for your support. Please donate on your way out or on our website." An official looking man addressed the crowd, waving softly before following the path Harry had taken.
"What did you think?" Lucius asked Severus.
"He is a… genius." Severus stated softly, utterly astonished.
"That he is," Rabastan agreed, before turning to the smallest of the four. "… Tom?" he asked, slightly fearful of the glint in the other man's eye.
"Tower Prep, huh? Fufufu…" he cackled softly, before spinning on his heel and marching out the door.
This isn't good.
With Harry, a few days later…
Harry, no, Prince, stared at his reflection appraisingly. It had taken him weeks to find the information in the books he had acquired from Diagon and Knockturn Alley he needed to cancel the charm Lily Potter had cast on him to make him look like their son would have had they not stolen him from his own parents.
His body had lengthened, to an above average 5'3", with defined muscles covering his defined body. His hair was pitch black and, had it been short, curly, but due to its new length softly waved all the way down to his ankles, he had some hair over his shoulder's, framing his face and had pulled the sides back and pinned them together at the back of his head. His skin was even paler, if that was possible, ethereally so, and almost luminescent. His right eye was not green, but a rich blue that he just knew was the same colour as his mother's eyes. His left eye was still the same, he had long since resigned himself to the fact that it would never change. His cheekbones were higher, more defined and elegant, his jaw stronger and his features more aristocratic.
His body was marred only by the scars left for him by the Dursleys.
He tilted his head softly, enjoying the way his hair fell down his back to his ankles. He pulled on the soft robe he wore around his room. It was long and sweeping and black in colour. He focused softly and felt all his scars disappear. Another thought and his hair was white-gold with silver highlights.
Oh, yes, he quite liked this appearance. His eyes were thinner in his true body, giving him a cold, calculating and cruel look, with a highly intimidating way of looking directly down his nose at someone, even if they were taller than him. (think Havi from Crimson Spell. Eeep! He's so cool! *stars for eyes*)
He was no longer thin, like he had been due to malnourishment, but strongly built with defined muscles. Oh, he couldn't wait until he was an adult!
A buzz from his door brought him out of his musings, and he pressed the intercom button.
"Yes?" he asked tiredly. If it was another freaking tsunami of fan mail…
"Hello, Mr Potter. There are four men here to see you." The receptionist announced politely, well used to his constant shortness and irritability.
"Can't you deal with it? Or the Director?" he rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
"Trust me, Mr Potter. You're gonna want to take this."
"Fine!" he snarled. "Send them up!" see what they think of him as he was now!
Five minutes later, the door opened and four men walked into the room.
"Hello Harry." One greeted. He made a soft sound in his throat, not looking up from the haunting melody he played on his violin.
"Or should we say Prince?" another quipped, as though it were a private joke. His head shot up, and he stared in shock at the now oh-so familiar men standing before him.
"We're you fathers." The third one, yet to speak said gravely.
"And mother!" the smallest one of them snapped indignantly, before instantly transforming into the person from his memories.
"Yes, you most certainly are."