Summary: Harry Potter has gone in hiding, now Harry J. Macbeth. His wife Lyza has sadly passed on two years before our setting, and his son and daughter are distraught. Finally admitting defeat to depression he moves back to England to get help from his friends. But what about his twins when they go to the Weasley's/Grangers and they know nothing of Magic?

- (in middle of page) Time change or change in point of view

italics Memories

italic boldthoughts

bold accented words

Chapter 1: The Tragedy of the Macbeth

Harry stood by the fire. He watched the parchment crackle in the flames.

No, they will not go through what I did.

"Dad! STOP HER FROM BREATHING!" Harry looked at the fire cautiously. The parchment was gone. No trace of it could be seen. "DAD? DID YOU HEAR THAT! SHE CURSED!" Harry rolled his eyes. They were always fighting like this.

Then again, that's what twins do.

"Ray, don't curse at your brother. Loof, don't be a tattle-tail." Harry called.

There was a silence...the calm before the storm. Both children (teenagers really) stomped their feet angrily towards him, angry that he had not taken a side.

"Dad, just because you're a male, and he's a male, doesn't mean you always have to take his side!" Ray hissed.

"And you always take her side because you feel sorry for her because she's so small." Loof hissed back.

"I'm not small!" She said offended.

"Yeah, you are," Loof told.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"You ass–hole!" Ray hissed.

"See dad? SHE CURSED AGAIN!"

"Loof, don't use the word curse, Ray, don't swear. Or so help me...no more TV." The kids jaws dropped, horrified at the thought of no television.

"Dieu, aucun excédent du besoin réagissent, hein Loof?" Ray asked.

"Vous pensez qu'il montrerait plus de sympathie. Après tout, nous souffrons autant qu'il est." Loof told.

"Lucifer James Charles Macbeth! No speaking in French!" Harry told, angry at his children for taking advantage of their many languages and his not knowing them. Ray snickered, "That goes for you too, Raynelle Nerezza Bella Macbeth."

Harry hated their names. Lucifer, it made you think of Satan, the devil, but Lyza loved things like that, odd things...magic. Harry cringed. James was after Harry's father, so was Charles. That was the name that Harry had made (other then Lucifer). So to even it out, Harry made up the name Raynelle, a beautiful name he thought. It was raining when the twins were born, and he had been thinking of Elle before the babies were born. Nerezza Bella came from Lyza. Beautiful Lyza. Lyza was full Italian, Nerezza Bella meant beautiful Darkness, and again her loving magical things, she named that after the daughter. The younger of the two.

Lucifer shoved his hand through his black mess of hair. Just like James used to do. Really, Lucifer was a spitting image of him. He had black messy hair, dark green eyes like Harry, and he was tall for the fifteen year old which he was. Really, they were turning sixteen, but Harry didn't care. Lucifer was a giant 5'9'' and he towered over poor Raynelle. The only difference between Harry and his son were three things.

1. Lucifer had a mix of accents, and he could change whenever he felt so. He loved his American accent though and that's why both of them seemed so American/Canadian.

2. Lucifer loved attention. Maybe Harry would have loved attention too, where he not have been given so much of it in such a quick few minutes.

3. Lucifer had a natural dark tan from all of the places he had been and that Lyza was Italian...unlike ghost pale Harry.

Then there was gorgeous Raynelle. So much like poor Lyza. Raynelle had the same beautiful tan as Lucifer, she had her mothers beautiful curls...but Harry's lack to keep the dark mess in order. Raynelle had long slender hands just like Lyza, and long fingernails. Sadly, she had long fingers but a short body. She was only 5'5'' and she never heard the end of it from her brother. Raynelle had taken to looking as far from her mother as she could after her death though, straightening her hair everyday, dying her hair with a dark purple streak in the front, and her eyes which disturbingly changed colour. They would go from blue to green to grey to brown to violet.

"Well, what do you think of this new place?" Harry asked. They had only been in the house for the matter of half a day, but many things were moved in. It was cozy, a four story mansion.

"I'm still psyched that we got it! How did you fight off all those rich people?" Lucifer asked. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know." He looked around the room. "Well, we've had a long day of packing.

Why don't we take a walk?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, totally. Maybe there'll be girls in the neighbourhood!" Lucifer smiled.

"Please, I don't want to hear it." Harry pretended to be disgusted. He looked to Raynelle.

"Well, baby girl? What do you think?" He asked.

"I think I'll stay here." She told. "I'll unpack more or something."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "Being in the new house all on your own?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Dad, let her stay. She'll be out of my hair for a while." Lucifer told.

"If you're sure."

Once they leave, I'll just experiment. As long as I don't think too loudly, Loof won't hear. I thought to myself.

I heard that! I heard him say. I rolled my eyes. I hate it that Loof can hear my thoughts. Of course, we never told Dad this. He'd think we're crazy! But we don't care. Maybe all twins were like this...but those McMichael kids from Greece couldn't hear each other. I stopped myself. I don't want to know. It's dangerous. It would be something to get us locked up, bound, and on a free flight to Area 51. Not to mention all these other things. It all started the year Mom died. My eleventh year. And though this is disrespectful, I blame it all on her. Two months after she died I started being weird. Even though the weird things happened the day of my eleventh birthday. I started doing things normal children aren't supposed too and not being able to control it.

I didn't mean to do all the things I did with them.

I thought I could play the hero. And I was wrong.

Lucifer was the same example. He can do odd things too; he just doesn't know that I know. And I don't plan on telling him. I looked at the fire, I saw the flames and I smiled. So dangerously painful...I could harness that. I could tame it.

But then again, that's what I thought that night.

And again, I was wrong.

Harry walked on the sidewalk, staring up into the glossy white sky. It was a beautiful sky, one which threatened to snow at any moment.

"Look at them..." He heard Lucifer sigh to some girls passing by in a convertible. "God damn it!" He hissed.

"Loof..." Harry threatened. Lucifer silenced at once.

Harry thought of Lyza. This was where they lived when the kids were born. Here in little Whinging. Yes, little Whinging.

No one here remembered Harry, and his Uncle, Cousin, and Aunt (if they even saw him) would never mention magic nevertheless to his kids.

Harry couldn't help but remember that night. He didn't want to, but the smoke of memory enveloped him, engulfed him in the hazardous danger.

Harry woke up to a shaking. He looked over to his wife. With her brown curls, her dark eyes, her dark skin. She was so pretty. He hummed to show that he acknowledged her presence.

"Harry? Harry, something's wrong." She whispered. He felt himself sober from his heavy dosage of sleep.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked.

"I don't know. I just woke up and–" A loud beeping took over her voice. Both of them plugged their ears.

It was the smoke detector.

It was beeping madly, out of control. Both Harry and Lyza heard their children scream, from the sound of from the smoke they suddenly saw curling in their eyes they did not know. Harry yelled over the beeping.

"GET DOWN TO THE FLOOR. CRAWL OUT, I'LL GET THE KIDS." He yelled. She shook her head.

"NO, HARRY. I'LL GET THE KIDS, YOU GET OUT."

He knew he wouldn't win against her, so he left. He made sure that the whole time Lyza was behind him. He crawled on the floor. The sound of his children screaming scared him senseless. He started to go faster. Faster. Faster.

"Harry, slow down. Don't tire yourself. We'll get to them." Lyza told, trying to remain calm. Harry took a deep breath and coughed. The smoke was thick in his lungs, it felt like the equivalent of smoking ten cigars at once.

"There's definitely a real fire, Lyza. I can smell it." He told.

"I know, Harry. Don't panic. We can't panic. The kids can't panic," even as she said that they heard the kids screaming.

They got to the kids room. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Why was there only one kid there? Why was there only one kid screaming? Who was missing? -------

"Dad? Heelllllllllllooooooooooooooooo? Dad?" Harry snapped out of the memory. "Whoa, what's up?" He asked.

"Nothing." Harry said quickly. His voice was harsh and it made Lucifer stop.

"You were remembering that night...weren't you?" He asked softly.

"Lucifer," Harry noticed they were at a park. Lucifer sat on the swings, Harry followed. They spun around so they could see. "Lucifer, I do think about your Mum, very often. It's just..."

"You feel like it's your fault."

"Exactly." Harry admitted.

"You aren't alone there." Lucifer sighed.

"Oh Lucifer, why would it be your fault? You know it's not. You didn't do anything wrong that night. You did everything I told you too." Harry assured.

"Whoa, Dad." Lucifer haulted. "I never said it was me." Harry paused.

"Ray?" He asked hesitantly.

"You finally notice." His voice held that monotone growl for a moment.

"Hey! What does that mean?" Harry yelled angrily.

"It means, it's been five years Dad. Five long years of growing up without a Mom, and half the time without a Dad. It means we grew up for five years on our own in foreign countries which we didn't recognize. We were alone Dad. And I could make my way through...Ray couldn't."

"Lucifer, I know that I left and I know I did bad things but–"

"But nothing Dad." Lucifer stopped him. The tone was so fierce it made Harry jump, yet angry. "You left us alone to fend for ourselves. We were kids! We were 11!"

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" Harry yelled. "YOU THINK I WANTED TO LEAVE MY KIDS? YOU THINK I LOVE BEING IN THIS HELL? I DON'T! I DON'T LIKE BEING THE WAY I AM, I DON'T LIKE BEING A BAD DAD. I WANT TO BE THERE FOR YOU – I WANT TO REALLY BAD BUT YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO TRUST ME!" Harry let go of a breath. He could tell Lucifer was stunned by the outburst. Lucifer took a breath.

"I trust you Dad. I always have, and I never once questioned your motives." He told. "But Ray is..." He paused. "Ray..." He tried to find the right words. "Dad." He let out an exasperated breath. "I know you think that Ray isn't herself."

"I could tell." Harry said bitterly.

"Well, she's been...Okay, different approach. There are three ways of grieving. One way is you totally try to forget the person, live as if they never lived. That's–I hate to say it–the way that I'm living it. The other way is down right depression. One where you don't want to be near anyone at anytime. Yeah, that's you."

"And Ray?" Harry asked, annoyed with the game.

"The last way is the worst one. One where you live in the shadow of grief, and you alienate yourself in your own depression. You want to be around people...but no matter what you feel like no one wants you. That person is usually surrounded with people grieving like us. Ray is the last one."

"The last one?" Harry cringed.

"She needs someone to be with her. Trust me Dad, we fight all the time. But I'm always there for her. But I'm not enough. I'm the big brother. She doesn't need a big brother, and she does need a mother...but we all know that's not happening."

"She needs a Dad." He finished for Loof.

Lucifer swung the door open.

"Honey, I'm home!" He called. They both stepped in.

Raynelle scrambled from her sitting position by the fire and stood up holding her hands behind her back. "Welcome back. Not a long walk." She mumbled.

"Not too long." Why? What were you doing? What are you hiding? Lucifer asked her.

Nothing. Why do you want to know? She hissed back.

Whoa. Meeeooooowwww. He laughed. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm going up to my bed-less room." She told.

"Raynelle. Wait." She looked to the voice. Never once had her father told her to wait unless she was in trouble. What did she do? Did he see what she was doing? She closed her eyes and gulped. She stopped and turned. "Lucifer, go start to set up the beds, will you? Just the air matresses for now. Thanks." Lucifer stomped up the stairs.

Harry went towards Ray, she shivered. Her Dad reminded her of one of those mean guys from fairytales. The way he was pacing, his back so straight, his hands behind his back, looking down his nose at her.

"Why didn't you talk to me about it?" He asked. Rayn's mind raced with answers to what he was speaking of. She asked this genuinely.

"Talk about what?"

"About your mother." He answered simply. He watched her stiffen. It was obvious that she was not expecting him to speak to her about her mother...ever.

"What do you mean? You told us..."

Never say her name again! You hear that? Never. I don't want it uttered, thought, I don't care. I don't want to hear it ever again. Got it?

"I know what I told you. But that was then, this is now."

"I guess I took those words to heart." She shrugged sitting down on the carpet.

"I see that." He told, sitting near her. "Lucifer told me everything."

LUCIFER! She hissed mentally.

Hey, I just saved you from yourself. Shut it. He hissed back, even though they were in different rooms. Sadly they could only hear each other in a short distance. It seemed blurry even this far off.

"Everything?" She asked in a whiny tone. Harry smiled. That was the girl he knew.

"Everything." He paused. "You have changed so much since that night. You used to be so bold, so...brave. You didn't care who said what...hell, you beat them up if they said the wrong thing." She snickered. "And now you are aware of everything near you. If anyone so much mutters your name you shiver. When someone raises their hand you crumble thinking they'll hit you." He furrowed his eyebrows. "My little girl isn't happy."

"...how can I be..." She asked, but she doubted he heard her.

"I give you so many chances to talk, so many houses, so many different lives. What else is there? What more can I offer?"

"You make me seem like a spoiled child." She told him. "I don't want new houses, because I know houses are only homes depending on who lives in them. Different lives? Well, of course I'll have different lives because of the different continents. Chances to talk?" She almost laughed. "This is the first time you've spoken to me like I'm human in five years." She narrowed her eyes. "Sorry Dad." She stomped up the stairs, but called behind her, "Daddy's little girl moved out with Mommy's coffin. Daddy's little girl grew up." She hissed before shutting herself in her room.

I tried to get the pump going for Ray's mattress, but it wasn't working. Maybe I should give her mine? Nah, let her suffer. Girls are girls, I don't care. Sisters are sisters...that's even worse. I looked around my empty room. It was a warm scarlet red. It was really welcoming. "And it's bigger then Ray's." I heard myself say.

In all reality, I could listen through Ray's thoughts and hear the whole conversation...

I could.

But I won't.

I start blowing up the second mattress. But stop when I hear,

"...Mommy's coffin. Daddy's little girl grew up." I heard Ray stomp up the stairs and I didn't stop her. Really, I should have probably grabbed hr by the elbows and shook her. I should have cursed her for saying that to our grieving father, I should have done something to make her realize what she did.

But I just listened. I broke my promise, and I listened.

I shouldn't have said that, I'm going to burn in my own flames. I would never make a good bad guy...I have the worst conscience. No, no, Dad deserved that. He can't come back after five years and pretend like he understands me. Pretend like he cares.

He doesn't. No one does.

I feel like I've fallen into a black hole, it's swallowed me, and I can only go through the acid to get out. Either way, nothing good will happen.

The first way, I apologize, something I have never been able to do. I live with my own broken dignity and pretend like it never happened even thought both Loof and Dad will use it against me in the future.

The second way, I don't say anything, rot in my own guilt, and am beaten by all of his stares, looks and whatever else he'll throw at me. But that will be to horrible, I don't think I could stand it for more then a week.

The third way, I do what I planned. I get out of here all together.

She seemed to wait, pause, maybe even sob. I couldn't tell. I didn't want to tell.

And to be all too precise.

I didn't really care.

Translations

God, no need to over react, eh Loof? (French, Raynelle)

You'd think he'd show more sympathy. After all we're suffering as much as he is. (French, Lucifer)