There was something off about returning home that year.
If Nigel had been paying attention he probably would have placed the first sign as to the fact Dylan hadn't picked him up from the train station like the man usually would of. Instead he had on of the other Agents he was friends with do it.
Yet Nigel didn't pay it all that much attention, Dylan was a spy after all and a very busy man.
The second sign- which should have been more obvious- was how his Father- okay he wasn't on a mission or busy- had greeted him at the gate and keep trying to delay his entering the house. Nigel, of course, wasn't quite in the mood to stand out in the snow, so he had swiftly slipped past the man.
The Final and most obvious sign was the dirty blond haired child that had tackled his knees- almost knocking him over- as she hugged them tightly.
"Welcome Home, Big Brother!"
...
...
...
It took Nigel's brain a moment to catch up to her words, but when it did well..
"What?!"
Dylan had to be honest.
He had always known there was a high possibility of one of his past missions coming back to haunt him but he had never quite expected it to be in the form of a six year old child.
And not just any six year old child, His six year old daughter- he checked several times. She was actually his. He should have known that mission in Quebec would come back to bite him.
Running his fingers through his greying hair out of habit, the spy had pondered over exactly how he could explain this when Nigel returned home from his school.
He wasn't quite certain how his Lad would take having another sibling and Dylan could never quite find just the right time to mention it any of their letters.
How could he possibly hope to explain such a change in their lives like this over a piece of parchment?
For months he had worried himself- to the point of a mental breakdown- over the matter until before it was finally time for his Protégé to come home.
Finally- after what seemed like years- Nigel had finally arrived, though the elder man didn't quite have the chance to explain things before his Lad had pushed past him and entered the house.
Dylan knew the moment the emerald eyed boy had fount his new sibling by the disbelieving cry of 'What?!' echoing through their home.
He never had a sibling before.
Though once- when he was Harry he had allowed himself to imagine what it would be like. Unfortunately he had always imagined a miniature Dudley that would do everything in its power to see him suffer so he had never quite wanted one.
Though now that Nigel had one, he was finding to be nothing like he imagined. Not that it was a bad thing. Actually , if he was honest, it was kind of nice.
Luna- and didn't that name bring back memories- was nothing like Dudley. She was a rather happy child who was always quite eager to learn- though she showed no signs of being another 'Child Genius' to the disappointment of MI6.
Nigel couldn't find it within himself to care about that though, instead he had fount himself tightly wrapped around her little fingers- much to the amusement of his follow Agents.
Haha laugh it up, why don't you?
He couldn't help it though- she was so small, so fragile and oh so adorable- nor did he want to help it.
He knew his affection was an open weakness but Nigel didn't care.
Anyone who even considered touching his sister-in a harmful way- had better be wearing amour- not that it would do them much good- cause Nigel Tux would be personally coming for their head.
No matter how many book, Tom Riddle had fount himself going through it was almost impossible to find out exactly how he had a connection with the Emerald eyed Ravenclaw.
If he didn't know better the Slytherin would have sworn Tux was a Horcrux and not just any but that of his own.
It was the only logical explanation, except at the same time it was highly impossible.
To make a Horcrux one had to commit murder and spit a part of their soul away to be sealed into an object. And while he had killed recently- he was still certain the Russian Ravenclaw had been behind Warren's death more he was- Tom Riddle had tied that broken part of his soul to his dairy, not another human.
Which left Riddle with a dilemma , if Tux wasn't a Horcrux then what was he?
What was their connection?
And how had it been forged?
Sadly those answers were currently out of his reach since Dumbledore- the damn meddling fool- had saw fit to once again trap him in this horrible muggle orphanage.
Still, the dark hair boy smirked to himself as he laid back on his bed, he always had next year and if he played a more aggressive front he was bound to retrieve the answers he sought sooner then later.
~Somewhere in Russia~
A rouge haired child couldn't help but pause in his work as a frown fount its way to his face.
Strange...
"Is something wrong Red?'
The Count's voice cut through the air as he noticed his protégé had stopped working on the rocket.
After a brief pregnant pause said rouge hair child finally fount a way to explain his thoughts to the elder.
"I think someone wants me to kill them."
Why else would he get the feeling someone out there was going to do something involving his Spy that would severally piss him off?
After a brief moment of silence the Russian shook his head, utterly dismissing the feeling- no one could possibly be that stupid-before focusing his attention back on their latest project.
He choose to bluntly ignore the knowingly gleam in the Count's watchful eyes- as a Philosopher the man always looked too deep into certain matters.