The Road So Far

"Yes," Nathan said. "Certainly it has been fifteen odd years since I first came here to this time and place but I certainly recognize those types of magicks. My birth parents were oddly paranoid about those types of things. I think their home is still around somewhere hidden by the most nefarious charms. Roderick was adamant that I at least learn to know about that part of my history. In case I hunt something that wasn't – well – wasn't the norm."

"Remus, Sirius – this symbol – would you know of it?" Albus asked peering through half-moon glasses looking gravely at the younger men in question. Black and Lupin looked every bit as pale and pasty as they did in their youth when caught in the act. Severus focused on that and not the body parts lying about. He surveyed the living room and the strange marking around one of the chairs. It was done in blood, although it seemed as if completed in haste. He relegated the Headmaster's urgent voice to the back of his mind. "Time is of the essence gentlemen. There's a young man out there in terrible danger against forces beyond our own knowledge!"

"That is a demon trap." Black finally said looking up. Lupin seemed to grip his wand and glare down at his feet. "I have to tell him, I'm sorry my friend, but this has somehow become more than just a Dark Lord that refuses to die."

"A demon trap?" Nymphadora asked.

"Yes," Remus finally sighed. Alastor and Kingsley looked to the werewolf who seemed to sag with the weight of the revelation. "This is often used to trap them. I saw it once before when I was a child."

"Hunters use them." Sirius responded. He held up a leather bound journal. "My ancestor Artemius was caught up in them around the time of someone name Helsing."

"Dobby will do anything to help Harry Potter!"

It was a chore that she didn't want. Yet here she was, again. Shitty deal as far as he was concerned. But whatever Pappy Potter wanted, he received.

"So dad knew he had another kid all this time?"

"Yeah."

"As Lord Heir – a secondary seal with your intent of becoming Lord Heir will secure any changes you make thus far. It is a loophole often used by many of the elite families in the even their Lord Heir is under age of majority." Bloodclaw explained with a twinkle in his gaze. His great grandnephew did not mention how delightful having a Potter (but not a Potter) as an heir could be. The amount of eyes rolling, heads being chopped off and blood that could come from such changes the young man before him would be one for the Chronicles of Goblin Lore! He so loved watching those narcissistic assholes called wizards and witches fall upon their own swords so to speak.

"Every Potter born is recorded in the Annals of Magical Birth," the stately man replied. "You should know that given that it is in the trust of the Potter Heir to know exactly which members of their family are magical."

"I never got that lesson."

"Of course you would not have been taught such," a gleam entered the man's eyes. "You are not a Potter after all."

Thud.

She moaned beneath him. He felt like he was devouring that velvety pink mouth as he moved over her and around her. She just pulled him closer, her auburn hair a fan of fire behind her head.

"YOU'RE A WITCH!" John screamed just after the puckwudgie disappeared thanks to some mumbo jumbo Lily had conducted. He was hurt, bruised and broken. He noticed the stick that hung limply between her fingers.

He was in way too deep now. He stared back into those eyes. Heart stammering, fists clenching – this is why Winchesters never had good things.

The crack in his voice at what he had seen as a betrayal. The disgust he felt at himself for straying from his late wife's memory. The shame he felt for carrying on like he was a young buck as he had two sons to raise right. The guilt he felt for being the worst type of man for taking advantage of a young woman barely out of her teens. John felt every inch of that as he spoke.

She had told him just as brokenly: "John Eric Winchester, I was willing to love you. I'm sorry if I misled you in anyway."

He didn't respond. He could not. Her gaze held him place and a part of him wondered if that monstrous thing she called magic was the thing holding him there.

We are currently going into hiding as the terrorist chasing after us could find us at any time. I believe you might be able to relate. We are being chased and tracked down by a madman. The closest term you have would be a terrorist. He and his supporters are killing everyone and anyone who either stands up to him or fall under certain categories many of them believe to be lower than dirt. It's not safe to write back to me. Should anything at all happen to me – please keep our son safe? Please. He is not a monster, neither am I and I hope you best remember that.

BACK THEN

November 2003

12 Grimmauld Place
London, England, UK

The werewolf peered at the innocuous stationary in his hands – eyes wide and body tense.

THE ANCESTRAL LINE OF THE LORD HEIR OF HOUSE POTTER

Scanning past names that had no consequences, his eyes landed on the lines that made no sense whatsoever to him.

Lily Marigold (Evans) Potter x John Eric Winchester = Henry James Winchester

James Fleamont Potter & Lily Marigold Evans = Harry James Potter

Honestly, it did not make sense. There were different colour lines of course. James and Lily's names were black ("Signifying that they are truly gone." Sirius had uttered bitterly) while the unrecognizable name beside Lily's name glowed white. The effect of the glow was the same with Harry's and this Henry's name.

"What the blazes?" Remus breathed. "If I'm reading this correctly it looks like Prongs blood adopted Harry. They only thing the same is Harry's middle name. Originally it seems that the magic recognized Harry as Henry James Winchester."

Sirius grunted. Remus blinked and placed the odd document down and reached for his cub's letter.

Padfood and Moony,

I'm fine, don't worry. I'm also with friends – they're teaching me how to protect myself. I miss you both and I'm sorry I can't get out of hiding. I think it's better for everyone I stay where I am. I made these pendants for you both – they're for your protection.

They'll keep you safe from what hunts me. I'm not sure if I can keep calling you by your Marauder names. I don't think I can no longer hold that honour. I, I don't know if da-Prongs said anything or even mum. There goes my bravery with this, please don't be too harsh. If you need to send me a reply, my contact in Gringotts is the Commander of the Fourth Regiment.

Blackwing

Remus noted how Harry signed off the letter with a raised brow. "It looks like he's studying how to become an Animagus."

Sirius downed another shot of whisky.

"After all this time," the werewolf breathed. "Did James say nothing to you about this? Surely, this cannot be." Remus Lupin whispered – his normally pale skin had waned looking like old parchment. "This – James would keep this from us?"

Sirius nodded as he downed another shot of Firewhiskey that no longer burned. Grey eyes dark as he stared darkly at the only true remaining Marauder. "Moony, Gringotts does not lie and Harry left this information for me to find. There's a reason our lad is staying underground apart from demons in Little Whinging. I even tried to contact him through the mirror but no bloody response."

"Has he used the mirror you left for him?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Sirius," Remus murmured then thought better for it. With a quick wave, he summoned the bottle his friend had half downed. Without missing a beat he drank straight from the bottle much to his best friend's disgruntlement. "Damn."

The curse word he let out wasn't because the alcohol burned. More so it was to air out his current frustration.

After a while Sirius took a turn of brooding introspection that the werewolf was becoming exceedingly more aware of.

"It hurts me most to admit that neither of them had the decency to let me - us know. Bloody war, divided the lines and it's warranted." Sirius stared emptily at his empty shot glass and the bottle his friend was now chugging. "Imagine what the rat would have done with that information. It is better they trusted goblins more than their closest friends. I need another drink Accio Spare Firewhisky. Accio Spare, Spare Firewhisky."

Two bottles whizzed into the room through a now unlocked door before settling themselves with a neat snap on the table.

Sirius had stashed both bottles out of sight from Molly Weasley's formidable reach. She was brave yes but dared not go into Buckbeak's Lair. This was where both he and Remus were now located. The creature the room was for was already sleeping in the nest Sirius had made for him. Privacy charms all around so that whatever he and Remus ended up doing wouldn't disturb the creature.

"Cheers mate." Both men clinked and downed their shots of whisky even though Remus had concluded the first bottle. They were going to be well on their way to sloshed.

"The subtly worst part about this whole thing is that our boy is descended from about four separate lines of magic dissenters." Sirius drunkenly uttered. "It makes more sense to me now why Lily and James often clashed heads and why the Evans' family seemed to keep away."

Remus who could hold his liquor better than his friend could only shake his head. "I suppose this doesn't change our love for our cub?"

"Mr. Padfoot would like to remind Mr. Moony that family does not care for blood status."

"Mr. Moony drinks to that."

- 04. Psycho –

THEN

June 14, 2004
London Underground

They stalked into the Muggle contraption with unassuming suitcases. Dora had picked up the muggle contraptions a few weeks back. Of course between the three of them (despite Ministry regulations) they were able to extend each to a certain degree with varying purposes. Remus' held all what was equivalent to the Black Library and then some.

This plan was as wildly harebrained as it went. Yet there they were – wearing clothes Dora insisted both men wear while they boarded the tube to get to the airport. It was going to be a long ride from now to where they needed to go.

Sirius had to hide of course, behind Muggle means. He had gotten his traditionally longer locks trimmed to a more refined fashion. His beard was also kept less "Mass Murderer on the Run" to "Refined Gentleman who may or may not have skeletons in his closet". His distinctive eyes were hidden behind muggle contact lenses that made them look bluer. He also wore a necklace that was etched with notice me not runes. This meant, anyone looking at him (muggle or magical) wouldn't look closely at him upon first glance. Not even Molly Weasley could recognize him and yes – they had tested it on her and a couple of the more astute members of the Phoenix as secretively as possible.

"This will be an adventure." Dora grinned playing the role of her cousin's sibling: she had changed her features to look more like her Black heritage. Indeed her face looked more elfin, her eyes more blue and her physique delicate.

"If by adventure you mean flying in a muggle aircraft and risking our lives, then perhaps." Sirius retorted looking to Remus who had only shook his head grimly. Remus out of the three of them was the hardest to convince in dressing in anything nicer.

"Stuff and nonsense Pads," Dora sighed. "I'm more worried about the Department. Is this the best course of action?"

There was a quiet between them. Their plan was simple enough: find Harry then afterwards figure out what else to do. The Dark Wanker and his followers weren't going to go away with a simple wave of laws and rules.

"We have a task to complete." Remus replied. In his neater clothes: khaki trousers, white button up and a crisp grey jumper and brown leather loafers. His flaxen hair greying at the sides was spruced up the muggle way and trimmed. Indeed, the academic werewolf bore the "Professorish" look (according to Sirius) well.

Sirius nodded as if having heard it before. "Find Harry, protect him and figure out a way to gain allies from across the pond to defeat the Evil Ponce." Collectively they sighed, shifted or slightly changed hair colour out of nervousness.

In the grand scheme of things: the trio made quite a normal sight, all things considered.

It was quite early in the morning and the tube was indeed less crowded. Between Remus and Dora – they had managed to surround themselves with protective spells. Mostly to have Muggles ignore them and to muffle their conversation.

The men were too nervous to speak whereas Dora had not the compunction.

"We will be alright, our research is sound enough. If the information we were able to take from the British Men of Letters is as it is then the first order is to find their hidden cache of knowledge. From there we can at least have a working headquarters to work out of to find our wayward Potter."

"Your optimism astounds." Sirius forced through gritted teeth. His cousin had the gall to smirk at him.

Remus sat patiently between them, counting the stops and focusing his nerves on following the timing of each passing platform. They would make it to their arrival station before making their way to the Muggle Airport with some ease.

"Kansas is still quite a way off and we will have to disembark in Toronto." Remus murmured. "Once we land, there is a distinct possibility that someone from the CCM or MACUSA will find us."

"Between those, I'd rather it was an Auror from MACUSA catch us than one of the Reds. The Reds are one the best trained forces outside China or Japan." Sirius sighed. "Of course we are going through the Canadian side so it is more than possible we may be caught by them."

Dora sighed. "Don't worry gents, my friend will help us once we land – remember she is going to act as your (here she raised a brow at Sirius) fiancée. Evelyn has yet to let me down. Besides, the paperwork Dumbledore gave us will help."

"What is it this woman does again?" Sirius asked.

"She's an Unspeakable," Dora replied with a shrug. "Her muggle cover is that of a Technical Analyst for CCMIS. I met her through the Quill-Pal program at Hogwarts."

Both older men looked at her with frowns. "Hogwarts has a Quill-Pal program?"

"That was not in place while I was there." Remus uttered.

Dora shrugged. "It must have cancelled after Charlie and I graduated."

There was a shared moment of silence before the system overhead blared out their approaching stop. The younger woman smiled broadly. "This is us."

"Adventure Mr. Moony," Sirius groaned. "For us who are about to fly."

Remus only sighed in resignation following after his fellow compatriots after discretely cancelling their spells to enter the wild, chaos that was the Muggle world.

THEN

June 18, 2004
The Weasley Burrow

You'd think that someone had died and in a way they had. Bill Weasley sighed looking at the frantic, worried motions of his mother. Her face pale, her eyes focused into some unknown distance even as she waved a careless hand towards the dishes.

"Mum," he finally murmured. The red haired matriarch glanced over at him. "Dad is protected, remember?"

Her lips were pursed. Bill had the distinct urge to run and hide as the familiar temper began showing upon her face.

"Mum," he tried again. "I – "

"William." Her voice was clear and strong. The weary, wary look in her gaze stilled whatever words of comfort he could offer her. "Check on your brother please."

Bill sighed and nodded. Ron had finally come home after a week at St. Mungo's. Prior to his stint there; he had spent three days at the Hogwarts' Infirmary in a coma. The attack at Hogwarts had been a harsh and eye-opening blow. Everywhere now – witches and wizards were implementing old protection tactics. Demon wards and sigils were being carved into doors or charms wherever possible. The Burrow had just been finished in being charmed above and beneath with as many protection symbols as possible. Some of them were even made by Bill using some notes that had come from the Granger girl.

The Weasley home was possibly more protected than Hogwarts or other places than the ministry itself. In fact, it was so well protected that the Order and its members were planning on using the grounds as a safe zone for Muggleborns and their families if things should go very poorly. From the way things were going – the Wizarding world was being attacked by the denizens of hell and The Dark Wanker.

Bill didn't let those thoughts enter his head as he clambered into his youngest brother's room. The redhead teen looked more than worse for wear. He'd been concussed and was still healing from the internal wounds the Demon had caused. He also had scared everyone for a while with his touch and go symptoms. As he walked into the room, he saw twin bodies already on either side of Ron. It was a sad day to see their faces so ashen and solemn.

"He just fell asleep." Fred began, "Sleeping potion." George added to Bill's unasked question. The eldest brother simply nodded. Both young men were sitting on chairs they had conjured stuffed where they could. Despite the already claustrophobic space; their eldest brother waved a wand with a worded spell. The room seemed to enlarge by about two metres. It was enough to squeeze a conjured love seat at the foot of the sleeping boy's bed. Without ado, Bill sat staring at Ron's sleeping face.

It was to this scene that Molly Weasley arrived. A muffled gasp and all three brothers turned to face her. She was covering her face with shaking hands. George who was closest to the door quickly ushered her into the room. Bill quietly pulled the gently crying woman into his arms. No one commented at how fragile she seemed at that moment. They sat there for some time until a silver lynx drifted into the room.

"Attack at the Ministry, all hands needed. He is here."

PRESENT

Potter's Escape

Unknown Location

Harry was used to pain. He had lost track of the innumerable times he had been tossed about when he was at Hogwarts. The ripping, slick noise that came as he struggled through his bloodied bonds was nothing in comparison to other pains he had experienced over the past couple of months.

He did not condone the torture that this bastard was doing towards his brothers. How it happened, he would never know. Yet in the span of time they had been captured – it clicked in his mind – these two were his family. Having never had family to truly look after except the friends he had made at Hogwarts; he knew he had to do everything he could to protect them.

"You know for a Potter – a family of light, you are quite Black." Harry spat out.

Sam yelled as the asshole cut through his abdomen with a worded spell. Dean was fighting against the magic holding him in place with all his strength to no avail. Reuben had placed him under the petrification spell while ago.

The older wizard glared at the youngest brother through Sam huffing and puffing. It was only the distraction of a ghostlike fox that interrupted his gentle ministrations.

"Pappy," a disembodied female voice echoed. "The President is here to see you."

Reuben cursed. "Fuck that bitch, always at the worst time."

He slashed his wand – cutting all three brothers across the chest – causing two of them to cry out while Dean remained trapped in the spell. The older wizard disappeared from the room – leaving a soft glow of light from a door he didn't completely close. No one would be coming down here anyway. He re-warded the trap spells around the door he exited from. The bastards wouldn't be escaping any time soon. He disregarded his blood spattered robes as Ol' Pappy Reuben Potter stalked down the halls. The fox still following after him – the older wizard hissed instructions to the annoying thing. "Tell her Presidency that I am at my bath, she will have to wait."

The fox disappeared in a quick whispy trot.

He hated being interrupted. Hated it!

Author's Note: I'm alive! I'm sorry! Please forgive me! I went through a massive author's block because something I wanted to happen sort of changed and characters were talking and life! No excuses, please hopefully this appeases. More to come and don't worry our boys will live. With scars, they'll live. Love, cheers, leave a review and thank you for sticking with me thus far.