Ascension: Rogues of the Fallen Sun

by Define Anachronistic

(AU) After the traumatic end to his first year, Harry Potter is a man on the run, pursued by friends, foes, and forces unknown. But that's only the most immediate of his problems. Ancient monsters, Rogues, escaped convicts, and Witch-Hunters are all waiting for him over the horizon. His second year is shaping up to be even crazier than his first.

9. Chapter 9

INTERLUDE IV

Summer 1935

When his father first brought the orphan boy home, he could not help but recall the day he had gifted him with his first pet.

The Commander had encouraged his affection for it, ordering Matthew to spend as much time as possible together so that he could form a strong bond.

When Matthew had heard that, he had believed the "he" in question had been the cheerful pup he had been presented with. He later learned how wrong he was.

The day his father had caught him playing with the Muggle children he had met in the park was the day he learned the truth.

"This is your fault, Matthew." The Commander had said, as he burned the bound and distressed dog with the end of his still lit cigar. "If you had listened to me, he needn't suffer like this."

Matthew believed him, as every mournful yelp from the pup's maw felt like a whip on his own skin. But despite his tearful pleas, his father only stopped when he swore to never speak with Muggles again.

He thought that had been the end of it, but as it turned out, his father quite liked changing the rules on a whim.

One day, reading at all hours until the sun peeked out over the horizon was fine, and the next it earned his pet a punishment. Another day, the Commander would have little problem with him taking meals in his room, and the next it would have his dog's yelps echoing throughout their home.

Eventually, Matthew grew so sick of hearing his once cheerful pet's pained cries that he set it free in the city in the dead of night. He thought that was the end of it.

He only realised how wrong he was when his father returned with the located dog and punished it severely for his son's presumed crimes.

Matthew was only nine then, but he knew what must be done. When he had approached the dog late one night as his father slumbered, it raised its hackles as he approached, wary of all humans after all the pain it had suffered at the hands of one.

Matthew did not let that stop him from stabbing the knife he had stolen from the kitchens into the dog's eye.

In the lead up, he had convinced himself that it was equal to killing a chicken or a cow for sustenance, nobler even, as he was saving the creature from an agonising existence. But that did not make it cleaner.

He had retched and cried in silence as it had been a gruesome death and he was inexperienced in the art of killing. However, in time he would become far more practiced at it.

Again, he had made the mistake of thinking that was the end of it, but his father had presented him the next day with another dog, and when Matthew had killed that one, another.

Matthew had been sick ever since his first kill, but he resigned himself to it, over and over again until it almost became a natural thing to do. He was protecting these innocent creatures by granting them a quick death rather than allowing them to suffer under the hands of his father.

It was only years later, as an adult, would he realise how twisted his reasoning had become, and how long it took to reconcile with his father's mistreatment of him.

But at the time he did not realise it. In fact, when he went weeks, then months without being presented with a new pet, he allowed himself some small hope that he was now free from his father's cruel games and his own terrible burden.

At least until his father presented him with the traumatised orphan boy.

"This is Tom Riddle, Matthew." The Commander introduced the boy to his son, but not the other way around. "He will be in your care from now on."

The boy, who had been staring into the middle distance before this, now looked up at the Commander in confusion, but Matthew understood the threat for what it was.

Do not misbehave, or he will be hurt in your place.

Matthew swallowed as he looked at the small, unfortunate boy who had been placed under his flawed and fragile protection. Even though it might be a kinder, he could not free a human the same way he could a dog.

So, he steeled his nerve and plastered a warm, welcoming smile onto his face. He stepped forward and extended his hand. "Hello, Tom. I'm Matthew. Welcome to your new home."