Recommended Music: Fall Apart by FLETCHER

Around Midnight by The Yangbans (it's in Korean but the beat and atmosphere is good even if you don't understand)

AN: Did you all enjoy the last chapters? I have another story I've been working on that's not updated but the thing is that my computer from back then died so I lost tons of work and also had nothing but my phone to update anything. Thankfully my brother bought himself a new computer and let me borrow his old one so that's why this is getting worked on and won't be left on hiatus for a long time like the other story. Anyway, I don't own anything so that's what's up.

Hawthorn Lansing sat on his mother's bed, contentedly munching on a cookie and watching her get ready for a fundraiser. Amaryllis Lansing was beautiful, just like her mother Ianata. Both Lansing ladies were tall and slim, with a grace of movement and word that made watching them a pleasant way to spend time. Hawthorn, nicknamed Harry, spent hours and hours quietly watching them and attempting to learn from them. If anyone had asked him what he was learning he would have said ; everything. From the way they moved and spoke to the way they worked, he wanted to follow in their footsteps.

Harry weathered being called girly, or gay, or poof, or any of the things other boys in his school called him. After all, they weren't Lansings. A Lansing was beautiful, graceful, well mannered, well spoken, educated, and always, always, out of reach. What good was fitting in with people if you could be a Lansing? His mother and grandmother shone in anything they did. They enticed and changed people. Harry wanted to be just like them someday. He wanted to be a true Lansing.

Harry, like Amaryllis and Ianata and every Lansing for centuries, was adopted. A Lansing wasn't born; a Lansing was found and formed. Harry had been four and a half when he was found. Amaryllis had been his angel, his hope, his saviour. She had offered him a chance and a change and she had turned him into a Lansing. A Lansing was more than anything Harry had seen before. And by the Gods, Harry was a Lansing. And a Lansing was always better.

Ianata Lansing was beautiful despite her sixty years of age. Her once golden hair had become paler with age but retained it's thickness. Her skin was perfect but for a few lines at the sides of her grey eyes. She retained the same mobility she had when she was in her thirties and even taught her grandson Capoeira every other day.

It was no surprise that she still ran her family's various companies, charities, and 'just for fun' parties. Despite their vast economic power and their many advantageous friends, the Lansings were fairly anonymous. Only once had Ianata used her connections to do something that appeared in every newspaper in the country. Even then, the Lansing name hadn't been connected to the outcome. The Lansings liked their privacy.

Ianata curled her fingers into her grandson's wild curls and grinned at her daughter's reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow was Harry's initiation and tonight Amaryllis would be making an offering in his name. How time flew! Their little angel was growing up so quickly.

Amaryllis placed the last pin in her dark hair and stood. "Harry, love. Would you mind bringing me the earrings I left on my desk?" Harry's sweet smile answered her and he left the room. She settled next to her mother.

"Did you leave it on your desk?" Amaryllis nodded. She had placed the heavy bronze box next to her earring box, just where she knew her baby would see it.

"He'll see it in a second. I imagine he'll connect the dots rather quickly. He's such an intelligent little boy." The mother and daughter smiled at each other. The thing about Lansings was that they loved each other fiercely, a feeling magnified by Harry's arrival. No Lansing would ever even consider being the slightest bit uncaring to one of their own. To be a Lansing meant to overcome as a family. Otherwise, they would have died out long ago or settled into just one world long before now

"MAMA!" Harry's smiling face peered around the door. "You think I'm ready? Really?". He stood in the doorway smiling in turns at his family and the obsidian ring on his thumb.

"Of course. You read the family books cover to cover, passed the trial, and really became a Lansing. You haven't been Harry Potter in five years. You are and will forever be Hawthorn Domini Lansing." Harry flung himself at his mother and grandmother and snuggled his face into the latter's chest (a Lansing never appears messy in public, for the moment mother was out of bounds) to hide his tears. "Very soon, you'll receive a letter to that little magic school. You'll go there and you'll need the full Lansing power if you're to teach that mess what true magic is."

Harry took a couple of steadying breaths and smiled up at his family. "Lansings are the gods chosen. Magic is what we are." He hoped the wanded magicals were ready, the Lansings were going to get involved. And the Lansings always dominated.

Harry Potter had ceased to exist the same day he awoke from the coma his uncle had put him in. While he was at the hospital in Little Whinging, Amaryllis Lansing had visited the children's ward while on a tour through the facilities. The Lansings were one of the families on one of the charity committees that funded much of their work. Amaryllis Lansing had, up to that point, been single and childless. It had just taken one look for her to instinctively know, as all Lansings did, that the tiny broken figure in the ICU was her son. From that moment onwards, the best healers from around the country had been contacted and contracted to fix Harry.

Ianata had sat silently through her daughter's teary tale of finding the next Lansing and had immediately moved to secure the little boy. She had used the family's contacts, overt and covert, to have his records sealed, his uncle killed, his aunt tortured by fellow prisoners, and their crimes touted from one side of Britain to the other. By the time Harry opened his eyes, Harry Potter was lost.

The shamen, brujos, healers, witch doctors, and miscellaneous other titles for many different types of magic wielders did their work quickly and quietly. Had this been anyone other than the Lansing family, they would have argued, questioned, tested, and generally interacted with each other more. But the Lansing women watched them like hawks and the little scrap of a boy was too close to the edge of nevermore. Fear, responsibility, and the large payments they were receiving were better than any secret they may learn from each other. No one noticed that they were all foreign.

When Harry finally opened his bright, bright green eyes; Harry Potter the orphan had disappeared and Harry the one with a mum and gran was waiting on his acceptance. It took some sessions with mind healers before he was deemed ready to be Hawthorn Lansing. As the years passed, his memories and all attachments to anything related to Harry Potter had dimmed and died. When he was ten, his mum found a second Lansing. Aspen Aella Lansing was Harry's impossibly tiny baby sister and the tipping point. As an older brother, he suddenly understood the duties of a Lansing in a way he had never understood before. When Aella was only a week old, Harry went into the family ritual room and had come out a confirmed Lansing. The sacrifice he had made for his sister had passed the last rite necessary to be a true Lansing, one in line for succession.

As he cuddled into his grandmother and his mother, his premature baby sister just feet away, Hawthorn Lansing didn't think of his birth family or birth problems. Hawthorn Domini Lansing looked forward to his own entries in the family books.

AN: I am not a very good writer so feel free to let me know how I can become better. I would love it if anyone gave me tips.

- yes, I know I use weird wording. I am trying to work on it. I also know I use longer words than necessary and don't use slang all that often. I learned English mostly off of reading a dictionary soooooo it left me a little wordy at times and….failing to meet previous expectations, like I know large words for some things and really short or baby words for others? Does that make sense? . If you have ideas on how to fix that, feel free to share.

Recommended Reading: Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Less Wrong