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Prologue 2

Albus Dumbledore knew three definite things about Mikhail Dubrinsky. One: He was the leader of his people, their Prince, he was the law, he was the judge and if needed, he would be the executioner. Two: He was immortal, to a certain extent. Mikhail was over a thousand years old. He remembered the days when his race walked among Wizards, he even remembered the founders. But he was not the most ancient. Three: He was Carpathian.

And that was what defined him. The first two things he knew about Mikhail catered to or was in direct association with the third. Carpathians were people of the night, they could not walk in direct sunlight, but if needed they could walk in the early morning rays and the after noon sun, just not in the heat of midday. They lived on blood, but they could not live on that alone. The males of their species were powerful, invulnerable beings. With awesome strength and…..potent magic.

The females of their race were much more….softer. They were complete opposite to their male counterparts. They embodied love and care, and they were as intelligent as they were beautiful. But they were no less dangerous. The older they became, the more powerful they could become. But females in their species were so rare, the last time he had been in contact with the Prince they still only had one unmatched female, and the last female had been born 600 years prior.

It was the only Achilles heal that the Carpathians seemed to have. For their race to survive an flourish they needed to procreate, for them to procreate they needed to find their lifemates. To make matters worse the male Carpathians lost all their feelings at around 200 years old. They saw only in shades of grey, black and white, they were cursed to see only darkness until they met their mates. The loss of colour was accompanied only by their loss of all emotion, whether it was love, hate, joy, sorrow or regret. They felt nothing, and that was dangerous in such beings who needed Blood to survive, and who were so powerful. The more the centuries progressed the darker their existence got, a majority depended on their willpower and sense of Carpathian honor to stop from killing while feeding.

It was a bleak survival, and the only release for one without a lifemate was to walk into the sun. But for some, even that was no longer an option. For some Ancients who had lived for thousands of years, they were much too powerful to 'die' in the sunlight, so the only other option was to become the undead. To become Vampire.

Vampires were Carpathians without a soul. Males who had completely lost their way, all hope of ever feeling again, all hope of ever finding their mates. In the hope of feeling again they took joy in the kill. Torturing and hunting innocent mortals for the thrill, for the rush of power. The only way of stopping or destroying them was to remove their hearts from their body and incinerating it using lightning, a feat that could only be done by a Carpathian Hunter.

With every hunt done by a Carpathian, the stronger the call for the kill, the bleaker their existence became. It was a never ending cycle that could only be stopped by finding their other half. Mikhail had been desperately seeking answers the last he spoke to him some 20 odd years ago, but the prince at least, was safe. His lifemate had been found.

They had first met 120 years ago, when he saved Mikhail's brother's life. Albus Dumbledore had just resigned from the Department of Mysteries and was one month into his journey around the world, his current stop, Carpathian Mountains, Romania. He was camping (turning a rather lovely cave into a home, transfigurating sticks was much fun) and drawing stars when he stumbled across him. Jacques had been weak with blood loss and escaping from a pack of fanatical vampire hunters when he became stuck in his wards. Albus had taken one look at him and although he knew that Jacques could easily rip him into pieces, he had felt compassion for the young lad (so it seemed) and protected him. A couple of stupefication curses, confounding charms and a whole lot of artistic transfiguration, had gotten rid of the rabid pack persuing the handsome Carpathian. Healing him, was an altogether different matter.

Albus quicky found out that normal healing charms wouldn't work, so, being the intelligent, cunning, resourceful male that he was, he decided to invent his own. Unfortunately, he had been so involved with his healing art, that he had not noticed that his wards had been breached, and the only warning that he was in great great danger was when he was thrown across the room. He woke up from his trip to the unconscious later to find a mildly apologetic Aidan (one couldn't really tell), who introduced himself as a hunter ("How interesting," he'd uttered), and took a look around his temporary home to find two other rather predatory strangers, who were not even half as 'friendly' as the golden haired Aidan.

Explanations had ensued of course, and the other hunters introduced themselves once they'd deduced that he was not a threat (it helped that they had his wand). The black haired male with the unusual slanting silver eyes was Gregori Daratrazanoff, Carpathian healer, hunter and the Prince's Lieutenant. The male who looked like a more dangerous, harder and older version of Jacques, had hair that was the color of dark coffee beans and eyes that were black obsidian, he was Mikhail Dubrinsky, the Prince.

He'd watched as Gregori healed Jacques, and then watched as they put him into the earth, right there in the middle of his 'living room'. They had explained to him why they'd done it after sensing his interest, and Gregori, who probably wasn't the type to 'share' anything seemed quite interested in the Wizarding healing arts. All three of the males seemed quite taken aback by Albus' easy going nature, and those damnable twinkling eyes. It was a sign of how 'fond' they had gotten of him that all three of the males went out of their way to visit him every once in a while, and Dumbledore enjoyed his stay in the Carpathian mountains so much that he stayed for another three years. He even tried to help them with their search for the cause of the declining female population in their species, and he 'borrowed' a book on Ancient wizarding magic from the Department of Mysteries, hoping that it would help them some. It was during his time in Romania that he found Fawkes, or rather, Fawkes found him. The Carpathians seemed to enjoy spending time in the Phoenix presence, for all thought they had lost all sense of feelings, the calm that Fawkes seemed to radiate did much to aid their troubled thoughts.

The increase of Vampire hunters and fanatics in the region finally pushed Mikhail to move his people for safety reasons. It brought an end to their association, but not their friendship. They had kept in touch, through letters, and occasional visits. But the visits were long and far in between. It was with the Carpathians that he had sought solace with after his defeat of Grindlewald, because only they would have truly understood the concept of 'monster within'. With his involvement in the Wizarding world stepping up a notch, and the Carpathians ongoing search becoming more and more desperate, the letters seemed to be the only thing keeping each party sane. But then Voldemort came along, and the letters had to stop. He had been far too busy trying to keep alive among other things, and Fawkes was his most trusted communication with his allies. But after 20 odd years Mikhail was going to get a letter, asking to speak to him. His only hope was that the situation concerning his own people wasn't so bad that they wouldn't assist him in his.

The Venerable Wizard came out of his stupor with a start when Fawkes appeared before him, same parchment in hand. Unrolling it with almost steady hands, Albus read the note written under his own.

Mikhail,

I desperately need to speak to you in the next hour.

Albus.

Of course my old friend. It has been two hours since rising; I have nothing else to do. Raven and I await you.

Mikhail

Letting out a breath that he did not know he had been holding, Albus looked up and smiled at his Phoenix before grabbing on to his tail feathers. One small step at a time…..

They disappeared in a burst of flames.

He appeared in a moderate sized castle nestled in the edges of a cliff. The room that he was in was fully furnished in priceless antiques. The drapes in the room had been pulled open, inviting in the bright light of the moon. A gentle breeze seemed to wrap its way around one of the curtains, billowing out in quite an impressive display that reminded Dumbledore strongly of Severus Snape. The Doors out to the Balconies were wide open, and the smell of wildflowers drifted into the room. Looking around, Dumbledore saw no portraits, just priceless paintings. Very Priceless if the Vincent Van Gogh and the Salvador Dali were any indication.

"When you have finished scrutinizing my living room, Albus, mayhaps you could share your findings with us?"

Turning around slowly the Hogwarts Headmaster came face to face with the owner of the castle he was in, and the paintings. A huge smile spread across the old man's face, one speaking of affection between long time friends, as he looked the Prince over.

With a gloomy sigh and a twinkle in his eyes he took his friend into a warm embrace, "It is remarkably unfair that I should have to age so much when you will never age a day over 30."

Laughing happily and returning the embrace, Mikhail stepped back and clasped the elder (physically speaking) in the way of Carpathian warriors, hand to forearm.

"What happened to Death being the next great adventure?"

"There is no use going on the next great adventure if I can barely walk because of an aching back and old bones," he quipped in return.

This time, the Prince wasn't the only one to laugh, and looking around the room, Dumbledore saw that Mikhail's lifemate wasn't the only one in attendance.

"Gregori?" he uttered in pleasant surprise.

The Healer smiled, and like Mikhail greeted him both with an embrace, and in the warriors way. "It is much a pleasure to see you again Albus, it has been a very long time."

Nodding in agreement, Albus smiled sadly, and then greeted Raven warmly ("My dear you are a sight for sore eyes"), and accepting the introduction to Gregori's own lifemate ("Congratulations Gregori", "You are just as beautiful as your mother").

Sitting down in the comfortable chair, tea in hand, and pleasantries out of the way, Albus unconsciously projected uncertainty and worry. Mentally communicating with each other, Mikhail and Gregori agreed that whatever it was that Albus had need to speak with them about, it was of the uttermost importance.

After a long moment of silence, Raven decided that the revered Wizard needed to be prompted to speak.

"Whatever it is Albus, it cannot be that bad," she said gently.

Heaving a huge sigh, Dumbledore put his teacup down and folded his hands in his lap.

"In order for you to understand, I would have to explain the events that have been plaguing the Wizarding Society since I last wrote to you. How many years has it been? 10? 20? I only ask that you not interrupt until I am done."

Seeing their nod of agreements Dumbledore started explaining:

"Mikhail, Gregori, you know the events surrounding Grindlewald. He was obsessed with purifying the Wizarding world. In defeating him, I had hoped, but I knew it would be an empty hope, that the prejudice surrounding the purity of blood, would finally be laid to rest. Not the case.

Grindlewald was destroyed but other Dark Lords followed, yet none as dangerous or even as powerful as Grindlewald. The Ministry and their Aurors could handle them easily enough. Until Voldemort. Voldemort, like Grindlewald was just as persuasive, as compelling, and captivating. Unlike Grindlewald, Voldemort was much more powerful, he had something that previous Dark Lords could never have, and that was lineage. Voldemort descends from probably the greatest Dark Lord in the history of Wizards, Salazar Slytherin, with such blood like that running through his veins, there was no way he could fail.

For the last ten years, Voldemort has systematically attacked everything that Wizards hold dear. And although his physical attacks were devastating, he was just as brilliant in toying with the mindset of the wizarding community. His success is apparent in that a majority of the population will not say his name. The very utterance of his name is enough to cause a riot. Even his other Pseudonyms are said with trepidation and fear of retribution. Such fear, it was crippling.

The state of the Wizarding world progressively worsened, over the past year whole families have been wiped out. Many wizards and witches have escaped into the Non-magical world to hide, the population of Hogwarts has declined rapidly over the last five years, and it will be a while before magical children would enjoy the same freedom as past pupils before Grindlewald, and before Voldemort.

In October of 1979, one of my staff members, Sibyll Trelawney made a prediction, a prophecy if you will, on the future of one little child. I have seen this vision so many times that I could recite it word for word. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...

In July 1980, or towards the end of the month to be most exact, two children were born that could have fit this prophecy. Neville Longbottome and Harry Potter. Both were born on the 31st of the month. The minute they were born, I informed their parents of the Prophecy. They both decided that the Fidelius Charm would be safer for their children, and they went into hiding.

Until earlier tonight. Voldemort chose to bring things to a head and chose Harry Potter as the one who would most likely be the child of the Prophecy. I have a few ideas of how he may have interfered with the Fidelius Charm, but needless to say, both James and Lily Potter died this night trying to protect their son. Lily Potter, through ways I do not know, managed to cast an Ancient form of Magic on her son, and her love protected him from his own sure death.

The curse returned to its caster, leaving nothing but a scar on baby Harry, and breaking Voldemort….physically. The wizarding world is rejoicing, but although I am relieved that it is over for now, I do not fully believe that he has been destroyed. There is also too many of his followers within the Wizarding world that would like nothing more but to gain vengeance for their master by killing young Harry. It is something I will try prevent for as long as I am able."

Leaning back in his chair, Albus Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked over his half-moon glasses towards the Prince. Raven and Savannah looked distressed at the thought of so much destruction for purification, and was saddened at the thought that it wasn't all over yet.

"What would you like us to do Albus?" Mikhail asked slowly and carefully.

"I am no longer as strong as I once was. I would love nothing better but to take young Harry and raise him myself, but it is not possible. If there is a chance that Voldemort will come back then I must be prepared, greater men then I have stumbled by letting their emotions cloud their judgement. And there is no doubt about it; I would love the young child like my own.

I could leave him with his mother's sister. Petunia Dursley has the benefit of having Lily's bloods run through her veins. I could manipulate that into blood protection for Harry, especially with the residue of ancient magic from his mother on him. But that is the only benefit I can come up with. Petunia is unfortunately very close-minded. She would come to resent Harry, and abhor his….gifts. That hatred of anything…abnormal could drive her to react in….madness. I cannot leave Harry in such an environment; it would be a death knell to him. But it would be my second choice if my first does not happen, Harry's safety is more important to be at the moment then his happiness.

The other option is to find a strong Wizarding family and leave him there. I can think of so many families that would love him as their own, and would not think twice about bringing him up. I thought of the Longbottoms, both parents are Aurors, and they both know what it is like to have a child on which a prophecy hangs. Then there are the Weasley's, a respectable wizarding family with an abundance of love and mutual respect, if nothing else. The Abbott's, the Wood's, the Bone's family, all great families in which Harry would thrive. Alas, it would be too much to ask from them. Accepting Harry into their home would also mean accepting the danger that comes with him. Then there is the fame, being famous before he even goes to Hogwarts? It is enough to swell any young man's head.

And then I thought of you, Mikhail."

Pausing, he looked over at the Prince and his Lieutenant. The Prince only had his eyebrow raised, while Gregori, well, he was acting Gregori, which meant no reaction what so ever.

"You are asking me, Albus, to take Harry Potter in?" Mikhail asked curtly.

Albus slowly dipped his head in an affirmative answer, and resumed watching him. It was obvious that he was now having a telepathic conversation with the other members in the Room; it was an uncomfortable feeling to be talked about while being present, but Dumbledore had expected it the minute he made that proposal.

"Why?" Mikhail asked coolly, almost ten minutes later.

"Other then the fact that you are powerful? Honourable? Influential? Safe?

Wizards and Humans do not know you exist. Your wards are such that only a phoenix could get through. It is stronger then even the wards of Hogwarts and those have been erected since before our first headmaster was born.

You said it yourself. The females of your race are capable of so much love, the healing kind of love. Harry will need that now, more then ever. Both of his parents are dead, he will be in a new environment, and he will one day be the greatest Wizard of our time. Harry will need the kind of love that only a mother can provide. And it is my hope that should you agree to have Harry with you, that your lifemate will love him enough that his nightmares will cease to scare him. And have no doubt, he will have nightmares.

Look at yourself Mikhail through my eyes. I see a man who has led his people through their darkest years. You are a man who understands failure, who understands consequences and who understands pain. You know what it is like to have the future on a race on your shoulders, and you are at one with the emotions that that sort of burden could entail. You have been disciplined, your very actions are control, yet you are free to love. You care deeply, you have much affection and you are completely protective of anything you care for.

Harry will need that. He will need the discipline as he grows older, and he will need someone who understands burden. He will need a father figure, greater and more powerful then he could ever be, yet just as vulnerable and human as he could be at his weakest.

But probably the most important to me, Mikhail, is that you are Immortal. If you should leave this world and walk into the next it would be of your own choosing and no-on else's. I know that you have enemies, but you have so many loyal ancients that would watch your back if you ask for it. With much death in his life, Harry needs the stability of thinking his parents will be there for him. If Voldemort should return, then more people will fall around Harry, he will need you. It is a huge burden to ask you to live, but there you go.

There are so many reasons Mikhail, I could sit here all night, but unfortunately there is a small time period in which the blood magic could be invoked if I am to leave young Harry with Petunia. I am asking much of you and our friendship my old friend, but this is more important to me then words could ever express."

Closing his eyes, drained of all energy now that it was all out in the open, Albus waited, hands still steepled, for Mikhails decision. He hoped and prayed that it would go the way he wanted it to. He would never forgive himself if he left Harry with Petunia, but to save Harry from his future mistakes, as well as the mistakes of others, he would do it. And hate himself all the more for it.

Moments, what seemed like hours, later, Mikhail spoke.

"Both Raven and I would be happy and honoured to make Harry our own."

Albus Percival Wulfuric Brian Dumbledore could not, even if he had tried, contain the tear that trailed down his aged cheek.

Right, so a few facts about Carpathians in this chapter.You'll probably be reading more as the story progresses, but like I said in the first chapter, I will not be featuring their current issues heavily in this story. This is about Harry's upbringing.

In case a few of you want to read the Dark Series that I'm using in this book:
Mikhail Dubrinsky and Raven Dubrinsky have their own story (again, not going to go into it), it's called 'Dark Prince' and it's basically the start of everything. The entire series (well, duh) are written by Christine Feehan. She's quite an awesome author.
Gregori and Savannah, are main characters in the fourth of the Dark Series called 'Dark Magic'. Savannah is Raven and Mikhail's daughter. Gregori is Mikhail's second and their people's primary healer.
Jacques (who is mentioned in this chapter) is Mikhails younger brother by 200 years or so, his lifemate is Shea, and after the events of her story (second in the Carpathian series, 'Dark Desire'), she becomes a healer and a researcher too. She's like an older, Irish version of Hermione.

There will be other Carpathians coming in now and then, and they'll be introduced as we go along, but again, the only people that will feature heavily are those that I've mentioned so far.

Oh, by the way. Thank you for Reading.