A/N: 1 I think this is my second favourite chapter. Holy HELL, Harry does what he wants, doesn't he?
A/N: 2 I spent all day yesterday and today writing this. Please give it some love! Did anyone go to see the photos on Ao3? They will be changed now some of the Blood-Adoptions have been completed, but they're still cute.
Regulus sat nervously in the drawing room of Highclere Castle, surrounded by his friends and family. Severus had just arrived, and his presence sent a wave of unease through the room. Regulus hadn't seen him but for nary a moment since his first life, and the memories of their past relationship were still painful.
Severus looked furious, and it was with a distinct snarl that he spoke next.
"Now that we are all here, and—" Severus had paused, his face darkening even more, likely wanting to emphasise his words, "—had signed your little contract."
Regulus felt like he was back in 1978 when they had first begun dating, months before he had gone to that blasted cave and got pulled down by the Inferi. Severus had undressed him with his eyes so easily. It felt like that now, the way his eyes swiftly flew over everyone and then stopped at Regulus, whose hands started trembling again. Sala was glaring at Severus, and wasn't that just the cutest thing? But really, this was Severus. No one's baby glare would intimidate him, not after the Dark Lord.
"Would you like to tell me," the man drawled, "Why Regulus Black is here and the Secret Keeper of Highclere Castle?"
Regulus felt his heart clench. The man spoke at him as if he wasn't even there.
"Why shouldn't he be here?" Harry spoke up and, like Sala, glared uselessly at the man. Though he joined Sala in the sweet cuddle they were doing, and he had to admit it felt nice. Ursa, not one to be left behind, joined quickly after.
"Because—"
"No, Severus…" he murmured; he wouldn't grovel; begging was so 1978 anyway. Not that it mattered. Severus ignored him anyway.
"—Regulus died in 1979."
The silence following his statement was heavy, and then startlingly, Sala laughed.
"What are you doing here, Severus?" Regulus asked, trying to keep his voice calm but definitely avoiding Severus' query.
Severus ignored Regulus' question just like he had ignored his. It was going to be like that, huh…
Instead of being the rational adult that Severus was, he turned his attention to the others in the room. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I said that," he inquired, sweeping his dark gaze over the group again and scanning everyone there like a machine they had in the Muggle world. "It's because I have a question for Regulus."
Groaning, Regulus put his head into Sala's neck, not bothering with his knife because it had been Severus who trained him. No use trying to beat a master at his own game, not whilst he wasn't even ten yet.
Everyone turned to look at Regulus, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had a feeling he knew what question was coming.
"How are you alive, Regulus?" Severus asked, his voice low and intense.
Regulus took a deep breath before answering. "I...I don't really know," he said hesitantly. "All I remember is falling into the water and then...waking up here."
There was a moment of tense silence as everyone processed this information. Regulus could feel the weight of Severus' gaze on him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet his former lover's eyes.
"How is this even possible?" Narcissa spoke up, breaking the silence. "If you died in 1979, how can you be alive as a child?"
Regulus could see the fear and confusion etched on everyone's faces. He wished he had the answers they sought, but he was just as in the dark as they were. All he knew was that he was alive again, for reasons unknown, and he was determined to make the most of his second chance.
"I...I don't know," Regulus repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm here now and won't waste this opportunity."
Regulus could see the discomfort spreading among the group like wildfire, but he could do nothing about the fact that he had come back to life. His secret was thrown out in the open, and all he could do was sit there and hope nobody threw him out in the open.
Lily cleared her throat, and the discomfort in the room increased.
Since the adults arrived, the topic of blood adoption had loomed over them, and he knew she would ruin the atmosphere even more. He was not looking forward to adoption, especially if it meant being raised by pureblood fanatics again; Regulus wasn't sure he was ready for that.
At least his mother was in Azkaban. He wondered for a fleeting second if she was still alive but then ditched the thought. He didn't care.
Before the young Black heir could voice his insecurities, Narcissa spoke up. "I think it's time we discussed our options for Sala," she said, her voice steady and composed. "We need to consider the possibility of blood adoption." There we go, Regulus thought; I knew it.
Sala bristled at this. "Why do you need to adopt me when I already have a mother?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
Narcissa looked vaguely surprised, and Regulus could hardly blame her. If not for him being a nosybody, Sala wouldn't have known that he even had a mother — alive, at least.
Regulus could feel the tension in the air thickening. He knew this conversation couldn't be avoided, but that didn't make it any easier. "Sala, I understand your confusion," he said, trying to diffuse the situation. "But the truth is, I don't know why all of us were left behind."
Regulus gave Sala the look, the one they had shared hundreds of times before whenever they got into trouble. Play along.
"Who is your mother?" Severus asked, but Regulus knew immediately that he was in on it. He forced the image of betrayal to the forefront of his mind for Severus to pluck like candy.
You know, you were in on it.
Regulus knew he was right from how the older man's face greyed.
Sala gestured with his chin towards Narcissa. She blanched, joining them in the paling faces game, but Regulus had eyes only for Severus.
Bastard.
Says you who left me to mourn your death. Severus responded, opening his mind for Regulus to read, and the boy scowled. I didn't do it on purpose. The Dark Lord was getting too much —
"Stop," Severus said aloud, but Regulus knew it was for him, even though everyone else in the room ceased talking.
It was Regulus' turn to pale, and he looked away from his ex-lover.
"But if she's your mother, why does he need a blood adoption?" Harry pressed, and though it was sad that the boy couldn't read the room, Regulus couldn't stop the bloom of affection at the boy trying to make everyone else happy. Perhaps he was trying to take the situation into his own hands, seeing as none of the adults answered.
"Because she doesn't want me", Sala muttered hatefully, determined to get the upper hand.
"That's not how it was!" Severus, of all people, snapped at the same time as Narcissa said, "How do you even know that I'm your mother."
"It was kind of obvious; let's be real here," Regulus scoffed, staring at her shrewdly. Constant visits —" Severus inhaled sharply at this, but Regulus ploughed on. "The fact that my mother thought he was Draco when I dyed his hair."
The fact that I saw your name on the Gringotts papers and told him.
Narcissa hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Blood adoption is necessary because your father did not let me take full custody. Now that he isn't here anymore…"
"So I'll be a Malfoy?" Sala asked, looking to Regulus for support.
"A Black," Regulus responded before Narcissa could, "She left Lucius, remember?"
"You swore an Oath, don't forget," Harry piped up, his emerald eyes darkening. "That you will not make any of us leave this house, and if you want to do any kind of adoption, you need to move into Highclere Castle."
There was a moment of silence as everyone absorbed this information. It was strange to see it coming from Harry, who was the same size as Ursa despite being fifteen months older. If he was honest, Harry was still smaller than Ursa, who had not grown up in as hostile an environment as Harry. But Regulus was always grateful that he had managed to rescue his brother. Thankfully no one ever commented to Harry about his size, though it was pretty evident that it upset him.
Regulus could see the conflict and fear in their eyes, but he knew they needed to have this conversation, no matter how uncomfortable.
Harry glared at the adults around him, crossing his arms over his chest and looking utterly adorable. "We all agreed that everyone stays in Highclere Castle no matter who gets blood adopted. So, let's stick to our word."
Narcissa raised her hand, "May I go first, Harry?"
"Sure, go ahead," Harry replied.
Narcissa turned to Sala, "Sala, I have something to offer you. I want to make you my child even more officially by blood-adopting you. You'll still be part of your father, but you'll be safe because you'll have a pureblood name. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you were growing up, but I tried to protect you as hard as possible. Do you remember the first time you called me mum in Diagon Alley?
Sala's face contorted with rage as he remembered Lucius' reaction, his eyes glazed over as he remembered, and as much as he didn't want to remember, Regulus joined in on the recollection of that day.
As dusk descended on Diagon Alley, a hush fell upon the bustling crowd, their chatters falling silent at the chilling sight before them. Lucius Malfoy stood tall, his icy gaze boring into his wife, Narcissa, their wands drawn against each other.
At Narcissa's side stood Sala Zahar, a small four-year-old boy whose innocent call of "Mum" to Narcissa had provoked the standoff. His dark brown eyes echoed a confusion that mirrored the similar perplexity seen in Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Ursa Black's eyes, none of them understanding the animosity brewing between the man and the only adult they trusted in the vicinity.
Lucius, venom dripping from his voice, spat out his accusation. "Do you want to tell me why he calls you mum, Narcissa, or must I kill everyone here?"
Narcissa, her fear masked by her fierce determination to protect her children, responded with cold defiance. "You wouldn't dare, Lucius."
Their wands clashed, sparks of magic crackling in the air, throwing unnatural shadows onto the cobblestones beneath them. Narcissa sent a disarming charm, "Expelliarmus!" but Lucius deflected it with a quick, "Protego!" The duel had begun.
From the corner of the scene, a small figure stepped forward. It was Regulus Black, an old soul in a five-year-old's body. With more understanding than any child his age should have, he began casting protective spells, surprisingly adept for his tender age.
As Narcissa sent a barrage of hexes and jinxes towards Lucius, a palpable sense of wariness and sadness filled the air, punctuated by bursts of aggressive spell casting. The spectators watched in horror, their hearts aching for the tiny figures caught in the crossfire of the adult world.
Feeling the tide of the duel shifting against her, Narcissa, the fierce protector, pressed a concealed button on her bracelet. Suddenly, appearing out of thin air, Severus Snape joined the fray, hidden by a disillusionment charm to prevent the children and Lucius from witnessing his involvement.
As he and Narcissa worked in sync, Lucius was soon overwhelmed. Narcissa cast a powerful "Stupefy!" stunning Lucius, while Severus quickly followed with a swift "Obliviate!" wiping the recent memory from Lucius's mind.
In the aftermath, the atmosphere was heavy with exhaustion and relief. Severus slipped back into the shadows, his role unseen. Narcissa cradled Sala, the small boy unaware of the tragedy he'd narrowly avoided. As she looked at the faces of the children surrounding her, a tired yet fierce determination took root within her. This was after a war, and they needed peace. She was a warrior and would grant that for them - ready to fight for her loved ones.
Regulus was sure everyone assumed Narcissa had beaten Lucius alone, the children focusing only on the two adults. However, though he could not see the man, Regulus was confident he could see Severus, used to the older Slytherin doing the same thing when they had snuck around Hogwarts in the middle of the night.
"I didn't know that was possible," Sala said softly, bringing him back to the present, where he couldn't help but stare at Severus, who continued to blatantly not acknowledge him.
Narcissa smiled gently, "Oh, yes, my darling. It is very much possible. It's a powerful ritual, but I assure you that everything will be fine."
Sala swallowed hard, but after a pause, he nodded. "Okay, I'll do it."
Narcissa nodded and snapped fingers at Severus, who immediately took out a satchel and handed it to her. Regulus wondered where he had hidden it on his person, but the man was still not looking at him, and he couldn't gauge any answers without help. At least, by the end of this, Sala would have his mother back.
She sat before Sala with an ornate silver bowl in her hand, filled with a shimmering red liquid that seemed to glow softly in the dim light of the room. "Are you certain that you wish to do this, Sala?" she asks, her voice soft but firm. It was strange that she asked, now that Sala had finally agreed because the woman did not seem keen on giving him a choice before this. Perhaps she was doing the Parenting thing of asking just to think the child had a choice. It would be a funny thing to see if Sala said no.
Sala nodded, though, his eyes fixed on the bowl. Regulus watched as he wiped his sweaty palms over his pyjama pants and winced. Narcissa would definitely make him get rid of that habit. Even from his spot against the wall, Regulus could see how Sala's heart pounded hard against his ribs, and the way he clutched at his chest with nerves made him almost demand Narcissa stop, but Sala didn't tell her to put an end to it, so Regulus kept his mouth shut. After all, he knew deep down that this was what he wanted more than anything. To be a part of a family and to share in their power and prestige.
Narcissa nodded in turn and passed the bowl to Sala. "Then take this and drink," she said. "Drink deep, and let the magic flow through you."
Sala took the bowl, hesitating for just a moment before raising it to his lips. The boy grimaced but didn't vomit the contents up, making Regulus guess what it could taste like. He watched as Narcissa and Sala performed the blood adoption, and as the magic pulsed through their bodies, Sala screamed. It wasn't a usual howl, either. The young boy sounded like he was dying an excruciating death, and then something started happening to his physical form. His hair turned white blonde, and his eyes changed from dark brown to silvery grey mixed with blue. His body grew taller, and his inner magic surged forward. Regulus saw as Harry rushed forward but was held back by Severus of all people, and Harry turned and hissed at him furiously. However, no one besides Sala would have understood anyway, and the boy in question wasn't in any shape to respond.
Finally, after the pulsing magic ended, Sala lay panting on the floor, sweat pouring from every pore of his body, his pyjamas sticking to his skin. Narcissa lowered herself to the floor and pulled the trembling boy into her arms, stroking his hair gently, murmuring things too quietly for anyone else besides Sala to hear. He curled against her chest, and Regulus could see as she handed him a necklace adorned with runes, though he assumed only an adult would notice the runes. "Keep this with you at all times. It's a protective talisman shielding you from basic spells and curses."
Sala nodded, held the necklace tightly before handing it back to her, and tilted his neck to the side. Without words, Narcissa put it on for him, all the while still holding tightly onto him.
When he finally set the bowl aside, his eyes were alight with a newfound awareness, and there seemed to be a faint red glow from his fingertips. Narcissa smiled, pleased with the success of the ritual.
"Welcome to the family, Sala," Narcissa murmured, "May our blood be forever intertwined, and our power be ever strong. Draco?" she called to the boy who shook in the corner, "Come."
Draco came and stood rigidly near his mother. She pulled the boy down against her and pressed him against Sala, who muttered something incomprehensible and leaned against both of them. "This is your twin, Draco."
Narcissa really had a lot of explaining to do, but Sala was no longer talking. "Sala, your name is now Sala Zahar Leolin Black Malfoy."
Regulus started. What the fuck?
"I thought he wasn't going to be a Malfoy!" Regulus spoke up, keeping his voice as even as he could.
"You assumed," Narcissa replied coldly, pulling both her children to their feet, where they swayed. Regulus itched to pull Sala from the woman, but it was as if she had her talons out. "All because I have left my husband does not mean that my children will not keep the Malfoy name, and I have added mine as well."
Regulus stared.
"Not that it's any of your business."
"Actually —"
But the Black heir was interrupted when he saw the anger simmering in Narcissa's eyes. It was a familiar sight he'd seen in countless duels from his first life when he had watched her fight in his first and second year, but this was different - primal and dangerous. He watched as her features began to morph subtly, her beauty giving way to something predatory, something deadly.
Narcissa's usually serene complexion paled further, her eyes gleamed with an ethereal luminescence, and her mouth hardened into a cruel line. She seemed to grow taller, more menacing, a terrible force of nature ready to unleash her fury.
The transformation was chilling, like watching a docile dove transform into a fearsome bird of prey. Her irises flashed, and for a split second, Regulus saw wings - large, birdlike, and glimmering dangerously, poised to unfurl from her back. A sudden realisation dawned on him: the rumours about the Malfoy matriarch possessing Veela blood were true.
Just as Regulus was beginning to fear for his life and everyone else's there, a voice rang out sharply in the room. "Narcissa!" The voice belonged to Severus Snape, who was still holding a struggling Harry. His tone was stern, reprimanding, a reminder of the peril Narcissa's wrath could unleash.
In response to Snape's call, Narcissa visibly collected herself. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and the dangerous glow dimmed when she opened them again. Her wings receded, and the fearsome birdlike qualities were again replaced by the refined elegance he knew.
The transformation left Regulus breathless, heart pounding against his ribcage. A glance at Draco and Sala made it obvious that they took no notice of Narcissa's actions. Perhaps Draco had already seen his mother change before, though Sala, who had not grown up with the woman, had no chance of experiencing such a thing before. As it was, he was still incoherent, strange sparkles of magic fluttering around his being. With startling clarity, he realised that Sala, now blood-adopted by Narcissa, would have inherited the traits of a Veela as well. The thought sent an uneasy chill down his spine. With a Veela for a mother and brother, the future would surely be anything but ordinary. He wondered how much of his father Sala had lost but knew he wouldn't bring it up, not when Sala was like this, and perhaps not ever.
"Who is going next?" Remus asked, ever present to keep things on track as if a Veela didn't almost transform in front of them.
"Why not Harry?" Lily spoke up, her arm intertwined with Severus, and by the look of utter dislike, Harry was not pleased with this turn of events. Though Regulus didn't know if it was his mother holding onto a man that wasn't his father or if it was the fact that his mother wanted to claim him after leaving him for so long. Regulus also wondered when Severus had released the boy. Harry edged behind Regulus, gripping his dressing gown, a slight tremor descending his spine. Like Narcissa had done with Sala, Regulus gently took Harry's arm and pulled him into his lap, where Harry immediately curled up, avoiding his gaze from the adults.
"I'll take that as a no." Regulus sneered, holding Harry protectively against his chest.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Narcissa leave the room, holding onto Sala and Draco, one hand for each boy.
"You don't get to decide—" Lily began, moving forward, her jaw twitching.
"Actually, I do," Regulus said, speaking over her. "Seeing as I have taken care of your son after he came back from the people supposed to be protecting him, completely rip—" He stopped speaking when Harry pinched him. It didn't hurt, but it brought to his attention that Harry was shaking his head no.
"I think we will continue this in the morning," Ursa said, shocking the adults. "My brother and I and Harry will be going to sleep. The elves will show you to rooms where you can rest, and you can figure yourselves out until then."
Regulus took Harry and Ursa's hands and dragged them to his room. He could hear the adults bickering behind him but shut his door firmly, putting on the most powerful locking spell he could think of.
Tucking both boys in together, Regulus sat at the end of the bed, wondering how much longer the night could go on. "Tempus," he whispered, sighing as the time indicated it was about to be dawn. At least he could take a short nap before facing the day again. But sleep wouldn't come; the arguing had grown louder, and with a sigh, Regulus left both boys in bed and cast a silencing charm around them so as not to have them wake up from the noise.
"We need to bring in more reinforcements", Severus said to Lily's disgruntled gaze and the tired one of Remus.
"You want to bring in more people?" Regulus asked, his voice cold. "Were you planning on doing it without permission?"
Severus sighed. "Potter —" Lily coughed at his side, and Severus wiped his brow with a clenched fist. "Harry." he said instead through gritted teeth, "will not agree to take on an adoption unless you and Ursa will do the same."
"I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself and my brother!" Regulus growled, his anger skyrocketing instantly.
"Be that as it may," Severus said softly, looking at Regulus' shoulder, "We need to pretend for a moment that you are, in fact, a child."
"No need to pretend," Lily said, her voice slightly mocking. "He is a child."
"He is standing right here!" Regulus yelled, and for that unforgivable moment, Regulus wanted to cry. For the first time since coming back to life, he felt as if he was a child, and the burdens of everyone's safety and happiness fell onto his shoulders. He gave a strangled sob, covering his mouth as tears filled his eyes.
"Regulus," Severus said, in that voice, he always used, "Calm."
Severus extracted himself from Lily's arm, much to her annoyance, and wrapped Regulus in his warm embrace. The fight left Regulus immediately, and his head fell against Severus' chest. It was much lower than he was used to, but Severus didn't seem to mind, only caressing the back of his neck and hair in gentle circles.
"What's your idea?" Regulus asked when he finally had control of his anger, and his tears had dried. He noticed Severus hadn't stopped holding him but didn't mind. In fact, it was a relief after all the unrestrained tension between the two of them.
"We call in Duchessa Zabini and her son Blaise into the folds of Secrecy and Highclere Castle. She can adopt you and Ursa; this way, everyone has someone," Regulus moved and felt Severus' arms tighten around him. Exhaling, he agreed. "Fine. Send her a missive with Kreacher, and if she is in agreement, she can come back here, and you can go back with Kreacher to give her the Secret Location."
"Kreacher!" Regulus called, relieved when the elf popped in, glaring at Severus' arms around his Master, and finally, Regulus was relinquished.
"What can Kreacher do for Master?"
"Please take Severus and—" Regulus gesticulated with his hands warily.
"Take me to the Duchessa Zabini." Severus put in helpfully, and Regulus nodded.
"If she agrees, just let her sign the vow immediately; it will save time."
Kreacher popped away from Highclere Castle with Severus on his arm, and the waiting game began again. Regulus resolutely ignored Lily and Remus, who were both staring at him.
Time dragged on.
The air in the sitting room of Highclere Castle hung thick with anticipation as Severus returned with Duchessa Zabini. Regulus observed from the periphery, the world seeming to slow as he watched the intricate dance of alliances shift and transform before his very eyes. The Duchessa, radiating an effortless aura of elegance and power, had just committed to a binding vow. Now, the destinies of all present were about to change; after all, Duchessa Zabini was not a woman to be trifled with.
The Duchessa Zabini commanded attention effortlessly. She had warm, caramel skin that glowed as if kissed by the Mediterranean sun. Her face was defined by striking features – high, prominent cheekbones, full lips perpetually curved in a knowing smile, and almond-shaped eyes that were dark and entrancing. Regulus noticed that one of her eyes was indigo. Her voluminous dark curls cascaded down her back, adding to her regal air. For a moment, he saw a flash of purple in the woman's hair, but then the light hit it, and he missed it. She carried a faint scent of exotic flowers, making her presence all the more captivating.
Silently slipping away from the adults, Regulus went to the next room, gently shaking Ursa and Harry awake. "Come, it's time," he whispered, and they followed him, sleepy-eyed and innocent, into the gravity of the gathering.
Preparations for the ritual began in a methodical manner. The room was arranged in a particular order, the air filled with a tense solemnity. Duchessa Zabini, Regulus, and Ursa were guided to sit next to each other, their positions significant to the ceremony about to take place. Unbeknownst to all, Harry's eyes darted towards Regulus' pocket, where he had earlier noticed the glint of a knife. His gaze was sharp, focused. He had a plan.
As the ceremony commenced, Harry made his move. In one fluid motion, he deftly pilfered the knife from Regulus' pocket. Harry was quick and quiet, and no one noticed. With determination set in his green eyes, he sliced open his palm, the pain barely registering as he kept his gaze trained on the two cups filled with the crimson liquid. They were supposed to be for Regulus and Ursa, the ties to their new life. But Harry had other plans.
Just as Regulus was about to reach for his cup, Harry swooped in. With one hand, he grabbed the cups, and with the other, still dripping with his own blood, he brought them to his lips. He swallowed the contents in one gulp, his face betraying no emotion as he downed first Regulus' cup and then Ursa's, who was sat staring at Harry, his mouth gaping. It was twice the amount meant to forge the Zabini bond.
"Oh, Merlin, no." Regulus heard Duchessa Zabini whispering from where his ears had gone fuzzy, and all sound had been drowned out. "A person should never ingest two cups. It's meant to be one per person so that it would only take part of a family's characteristics. By Harry taking two, he has just rewritten his genetic legacy, erasing Potter from his identity for good."
It was over before anyone could react.
The room fell into silence as Harry screamed so loudly he lost his voice, and then he screamed with no sound until he stopped moving entirely. Lily's face nearly matched Narcissa's from earlier, but she seemed to have been shocked silent. Remus looked as though he'd seen a ghost, and Severus was a mask of disbelief. But none were more astounded than Regulus, who watched in abject horror as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, began to transform.
Harry grew taller, his frame extending into the lithe and lean silhouette of a Zabini. His hair, once unruly and jet black, shifted to an ebony mixed with a soft purple hue, cascading into tighter curls that fell down past his neck and down his back. As his skin took on a richer, darker shade, he could hear the Duchessa inhale in a pleased sort of way. But the transformation was too much, too soon. Harry collapsed, unconscious.
And as Harry stumbled to the ground, the room fell silent for a split second before all hell broke loose. Lily, usually so composed, erupted in rage. Her face was a mask of fury, her green eyes spitting fire. She looked like she was about to unleash hell on them all, her motherly instinct overshadowing all reason. For a reason he couldn't explain, Regulus knew it wasn't maternal that was making Lily angry, but he had no way of proving it. Amid the chaos, Regulus remained still, horror etched on his face as he processed the implications. Harry Potter was gone.
Duchessa Zabini, her voice shaking, still had to finish the ritual even though Harry had passed out. She took his hand with a gentleness no one could say they have ever seen on the Duchessa and said, her voice filled with magic, "Rennervate."
With a stir, Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes, clutching his throat, a small whimper forming. The Duchessa stroked Harry's hair and smiled at him. Regulus was surprised that she didn't yell, considering that it was supposed to be him and Ursa that she was blood-adopting, though if he thought about it, who would complain about getting 'the boy who lived'?
The Duchessa Zabini stood tall and regal, her eyes locked onto Harry's, after helping him to his feet. The boy's gaze never wavered under her intense stare, though Regulus could see him shifting, perhaps in fear, at the sound of Lily's snarling in the background. The Duchessa glared so fiercely at Lily that the woman actually gasped and finally shut up. It made Regulus wonder if the Duchessa felt it in her veins and magic that Harry was now hers.
"Now," the majestic and terrifying woman said as the assembled audience watched from the centre of the sitting room, all their eyes fixed on the two of them as they listened to the Duchessa deal with Harry. Her elegant hand extended, holding a golden amulet, an ancient Zabini heirloom passed down through generations. His eyes drifted to Blaise, but unexpectedly, the boy did not seem bothered by this; instead, he was eyeing Harry with something akin to interest and a similar protective attitude as his mother was.
"This amulet," she began, her voice echoing through the room, "has been worn by every Zabini for centuries. It serves not only as a mark of our lineage but also as a protection charm. As long as you wear it, no one can harm you or claim you against your will. It will recognise you as a true member of the Zabini family, regardless of blood, though," and here the Duchessa gave a small tinkling laugh, "I'm sure if we did a test on blood, you will be 100 per cent Zabini."
Another sharp inhale from Lily, but she was ignored.
She motioned for Harry to kneel, placing the chain around his neck as he did. The amulet fell against his chest, warming instantly to his touch.
"From this moment on," she declared, her eyes piercing into his, "you are Aurelius Lucien Zabini. As I name you, so shall you be known to the world. And as you are named, so shall you be protected, bound by the magic of our ancestors, part of the Zabini line. No spell, no magic can undo this bond; no force can take you from us."
A hush fell over the room as the final word left her lips, and a soft glow emanated from the amulet, wrapping Harry in a warm embrace. When the light faded, all that was left was Harry, or rather, Aurelius, standing taller and stronger than before, forever a Zabini. And perhaps, the one good thing that Regulus could see was that Harry — Aurelius' skin was perfect. Somehow his clothes had been removed from his skin, and it was clear that all the evidence of his trauma, wounds, and bruises from his past was gone. To the surprise of all, the boy hissed something, though no one understood, but it was a sigh of relief that Regulus let out. It was something that he and Sala shared, and he was sure it would have been problematic if Harry lost it.
Then the boy sat down again, directly into the lap of Blaise, who murmured "English, mio fratello" into his ear, though Regulus was close enough to hear as Harry repeated what he said, though this time it was so soft that Regulus couldn't catch it.
Harry had been reborn under an unexpected constellation, and as Regulus sat back against the wall, pulling Ursa into him, he took in the scene before him. Aurelius Lucien Zabini bore little resemblance to the boy who was once Harry Potter. And while the adults were angry whispering amongst themselves, Regulus took the time to observe Harry in his new element. For now, that he had stopped writhing on the floor in pain, and Kreacher had kindly enough snapped some clothing onto him, the young boy was finally at peace. From his observations before, he saw again that his skin had darkened to a lovely shade that closely matched Blaise, though when they sat together as they were, it was obvious that it was perhaps a shade lighter. His hair had evolved into a mass of tight curls; it was long, possibly longer than Lily's. Its black sheen is tinged with an unusual shade of purple that glimmers in and out as he moves. As Blaise and Aurelius stand up, it's clear that the other boy has grown notably taller; and every single one of his features sharpened. The notorious scar on his forehead had vanished, and his eyes, previously a vibrant green, had morphed into a captivating indigo that reflected his unyielding spirit that, it seemed, he and Blaise shared. Harry was stunning. And with the look of pure unadulterated smugness, Harry, for the first time in his life, felt it.
Blaise looked similar, a striking image of youthful charisma. He held the same grace and elegance as his mother, traits which seemed inherent in the Zabini line. Even though they hadn't even turned eleven, his face was marked by a chiselled jawline, warm indigo eyes that held an intriguing depth, and curly black hair cropped close to his head. Upon closer inspection, he had the same purple hue as Harry, which made Regulus wonder if it was a Zabini trait. Regulus was now certain that he hadn't imagined the purple in the Duchessa. Blaise carried a confidence that was hard to ignore, a tall figure clad in impeccably tailored robes, exuding an effortless charm. It made him chuckle that his robes had now met with the floor when he had held the other boy in his lap. As the two of them walked together now and out of the room, still whispering nonsensical things under his breath, Regulus couldn't deny the seamless way they were joined at the hip. Staunching the jealousy he felt was easier than he thought it would be. The happiness his friend felt outweighed his sadness at being parted, and the adults didn't know that they still had the blood bond of brotherhood from earlier that day - or yesterday now, with the sun up in the sky, indicating a new day.
Regulus felt as if the ground beneath him had shifted. Harry was now a Zabini, and it was irreversible once a blood adoption was done. The room erupted into chaos, pandemonium breaking loose as Lily's fury finally met the panic of the others. Regulus was caught in the whirlwind, but his gaze remained fixated on the boy now known as Aurelius Lucien Zabini. The Boy Who Lived was no more; a new era had begun.
From what Regulus could see, the Zabinis were at peace, completely ignoring the chaos around them, and his Harry looked delighted, and really, that was all Regulus could ask for.
Like the Zabinis, he ignored the adults yelling at the top of their lungs and herded Ursa back to his room. Slightly amused, he watched from his doorway as Blaise led his now younger brother towards his own room, Aria happily chattering to them as she directed them up a flight of stairs. Blaise had his arm protectively around Aurelius' waist, and the latter had his head against the former's shoulder, the two ideally in sync. No one would ever believe that they were not biological brothers. Biting his lip, Regulus did a quick mental calculation. "Hey Blaise," he called just as the boy was about to enter his bedroom a floor above. The boy stopped and peered over the ledge, his arm still around Aurelius. Merlin, it was going to be hard getting used to not calling him Harry. "Yes?" he asked, sophisticated as ever.
"When is your birthday?"
To his surprise, Blaise chuckled, "It was today, er, yesterday. September the first."
"Ah, you're 22 days older than me." Kind of.
"Goodnight," Blaise said, ending the conversation for them.
His math was now able to finish; he mentally calculated between Harry's birthday and Blaise's. He knew that if anyone asked, the Duchessa would say she immediately fell pregnant a month after Blaise was born, as there were ten months between the two boys. It worked, and it was insane, and laughing, Regulus shut the door to his room, joining Ursa in bed, covering the both of them and finally, falling into a restful sleep.
Around 800 kilometres away, a remarkable silver object of profound significance stood in the corner of Albus Dumbledore's office, nestled among an array of silver instruments and mystical artefacts. Known as the Life Sentinel, this enchanted silver orb possessed the extraordinary ability to monitor the life force of individuals connected to its magic. As the sun slowly rose on September the second, 1989, a subtle vibration and sharp, loud whistle began to emanate from the Life Sentinel, reverberating through the room. The once still and silent sphere now stirred with urgency, its silver surface shimmering and flickering as if trying to convey a dire message. And then, with a resonant chime that rang through the air, the Life Sentinel announced to Albus Dumbledore, "At the dawning of a new day, destiny takes an unforeseen turn. The tale that bound worlds together is forever altered, and the veil of innocence is lifted." The cryptic words hung in the air, the silence that followed heavy with unspoken sorrow.
Albus Dumbledore, his heart heavy with concern, stepped closer to the Life Sentinel, his eyes fixed on the shimmering silver form. "Does this signify that Harry Potter...has departed from this world?" he asked, his voice tinged with dread and desperate hope. The room fell silent as if holding its breath, awaiting the response of the sentient instrument. In a soft yet resolute tone, the Life Sentinel replied, "The path he treads is veiled in shadows, beyond mortal sight. The mortal realm mourns a loss, but his presence lingers in the echoes of his legacy." Dumbledore's eyes welled with tears, his heart torn between grief and the flickering embers of remaining hope. There was still the Hogwarts Student Records - the collections of scrolls for everyone whose name had been down since birth. Albus Dumbledore's hands trembled with anxiety and urgency as he hastily retrieved the records for 1991, the year Harry should arrive at Hogwarts. His piercing blue eyes scanned the pages, his brows furrowing deeper with each passing moment. Students' names flew by, but one was notably absent – Harry Potter. Panic began to well up within him as he flipped through the pages, searching, desperately hoping to find any trace of the boy who had once defied all odds.
His usually calm demeanour shattered, replaced by a dishevelled flurry of worry and anger. Albus murmured to himself, his voice filled with mounting distress, "No... It cannot be... Harry... Where are you?" His hands, once steady, now fumbled and dropped the pages onto his desk in frustration. In his mind, a single conclusion began to form, its weight heavy upon his heart.
Through the chaos of his racing thoughts, Albus made a solemn decision. With great sorrow, he concluded that Harry Potter, the boy he had so many plans for, had indeed met his untimely end. In the absence of concrete evidence, the Headmaster resolved to carry this burden of grief alone; after all, there was yet another way to check, right? He was surely still at the Dursleys. His Life Sentinel was clearly wrong.
With tears glistening in his eyes, Albus Dumbledore let out a weary sigh as the weight of his decision settled upon his worn shoulders. The loss of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was an immeasurable blow to the wizarding world, and if he wasn't at the Dursleys, he would create his own Harry Potter if it was the last thing he did.
End note: My muse sends his love, as destructive and terrible as he is.