"Albus, you've really done it this time."

The man who spoke took a steadying breath, then looked his company over. Two of them sat at the fire, both keeping an eye on the third. Albus sat alone in the centre of the room, surrounded on all sides. The position was no accident- this was an interrogation, and possibly a sentencing, if the three men didn't like what the old man had to say.

Yaxley would have been sitting at his desk, a rather imposing mahogany thing in a room as small as his study, but he couldn't bring himself to sit still. A glass of whiskey sat abandoned on it- he couldn't keep his hands from shaking.

"I trusted you when you took the boy. We all did. And you leave him with mu.." his voice failed. What had happened under his watch was simply unthinkable. "With muggles?!"

"I did what i thought to be best for the boy" Albus replied, calmly. His voice didn't betray any emotion at all. Yaxley envied him his self control- he could barely keep his breathing steady, a knot of anxiety had settled in his chest.

"Well i suppose that makes it okay, then. You thought you did what was best" the reply dripped sarcasm. Lucius Malfoy had spoken, making no attempt to hide his disdain for the old man.

"Lucius." was all that was needed to quieten Malfoy. A lord Malfoy might be, but here he was a guest, and Yaxley was a lord himself, technically. Malfoys inclusion in the conversation was only one of politeness- it was one of Lucius' men that had stumbled across the young heir. Lucius gave Yaxley a brief smile, then returned to his drink, leaning back into the chair. He wore his authority- black suit, black robe, black riding boots, matching gloves. He was probably wearing more in terms of value than Yaxleys entire wardrobe.

"Albus you had better have a damn good reason for this. Theres only so much i can protect you from"

"Henry, i have never needed your protection before, and i do not need it now. I did what was necessary, and gave the boy as much safety as was possible" Yaxley looked him in the eye and took a moment to consider the man. Albus had rarely called him Henry, and in this case its use bordered on disrespectful. "I meant what i said, when i took him."

Ten years earlier they were in the same room. The Potters had just died at the Archtraitors hands, and they were left with the boy, and the braying tides of muggles who sought their deaths.

Give him to me. If they capture you they will tear the secrets from you. That is not true of me. I will keep him safe. Hide him. His anonymity will be his greatest defence.

Perhaps some part of Yaxley knew what that meant, and he had spent the last ten years fervently trying not to think of where the boy might be. But now it was time for the boy to go to Hogwarts- to rejoin society at large- and to find that he had spent his childhood as a muggle…

The results were unthinkable. The potential for damage.

Yaxley looked to the fourth man in the room, who had been quietly nursing his glass with a growing look of murderous thunder written across his face, half hidden under a wall of dark wavy hair. "Have anything to say, Black?"

Sirius leaned forward in his chair, thought for a moment, looked at Albus and asked "why? Why muggles?"

"If i explained why, it might endanger him. I can trust the truth of why to none of you"

If Sirius was clearly angry before, then what he was now needed a new word to describe it. Sirius leapt to his feet, yelling. Screaming. He cursed. He threw his glass across the room. Noone else spoke. He was allowed his moment.

Yaxley understood his anger. Black was the Boy's Godfather. He had promised the Potters that he would see to their child's safety, and he was robbed of his duty. Yaxley had promised much the same, as advisor and now steward, to the whole family. That family was now just the young son.

Once Sirius had calmed down, he looked to Yaxley "give the boy to me. There will be so much he doesn't know. He has to learn. I have to make it up to him. To James."

"And what of him?" Lucius spoke again, gesturing at Albus.

It was Black who answered.

"He deserves the kiss"

—-

Harry Dursley was a normal boy. Normal height, normal weight, not especially smart or fit. A mop of unruly black hair came down to his bright green eyes, reaching his forever barely-held-together glasses. He fit in amongst his peers well enough, and amongst his family better.

It was with his brother that he walked to school, their matching uniforms patched and worn, as always, to match the broken and dirty streets they walked down. Their mother had kissed them off, after a breakfast that barely kept the hunger away. She took the time to tell them she loved them individually- She always made sure to never play favourites. Life was hard enough.

As they walked, they joined a few other children, as they all made their way. The school building itself was a sorry thing- red bricks and broken windows. There wasn't enough money to properly show the love that the school received. But school was a privilege, the students knew, lucky to have the seats in there that they did. There was never quite enough schools to go around, and always some had to go without.

They filed in, took their seats, greeted each other and the teacher, and settled in for a normal day.

But today was not a normal day. Today they had a special guest, who appeared not in the faded greys and browns of the little people but the clean, jet black wools of the gentry. He walked into the school hall, flanked on either side by a pair of severe looking men in the crisp black uniform of the police, batons in hand.

He stepped to the front, the headmaster yielding to the mans assumed authority, and spoke to them.

"I am here on behalf of the Lord of the Isles, and I am looking for those who show great talent. Try your hardest, impress me, and your life of poverty ends here."

The whole school swelled with hope- a once in a lifetime opportunity at clean clothes and good food.

The children filed away to their classes, and not an hour later Harry's class was interrupted by one of those uniformed men entering. "You are required to return to the hall, immediately"

They did so, with an orderly but hurried speed, and lined up across the hall.

The man went from child to child, taking them by the chin, looking them in the eyes, asking them their name, and either repeating the name to the officer or simply moving on.

Almost all did not get their name repeated, clearly those had failed whatever inscrutable test they were undergoing, and so when the man got to Harry and gripped him by the jaw to look him in the eyes and ask his name Harry could barely get the words out. To lose out on this kind of opportunity would be crushing.

He looked the man in the eyes, and knew he was showing the scared face of a child, but was surprised when the man's face changed to mirror that same fear. The man reached up, held Harrys hair up, to expose the scar the hair was hiding, and quietly whispered to himself.

"By Merlin… You're Lord Potter"

—-

Harry hadn't been allowed to return home. The man who had delivered the tests to the school children had whispered a quiet word with one of the policemen, and that man had promptly left the room at a run. Within ten minutes, the school was emptied of students and teachers alike, and within ten more it had filled with more officers than Harry had seen in his life.

Harry was whisked away in a car! In a real actual car! and they had driven for hours, Harry wedged between two officers in even more elaborate uniforms than the men who entered the school, with 2 more of the men in the front.

The sun was beginning to set when the car finally pulled to a stop. All but the driver had quickly hopped out of the vehicle, standing to attention at each corner of the vehicle. Harry stuck his head out a moment later of the door to his left which had been left open. Outside was what must have been the largest building in the world, all shining white walls and stairs and huge windows and…

Harry found himself more than a little overwhelmed. "Harry?" a man spoke, not unkindly. "Out you come"

Harry did as he was asked, emerging onto a carpet which he quickly stepped off. The carpet was bright red, and trimmed in gold, and stepping on it must surely be a crime?

The man gave a brief chuckle of good humour, before walking up to Harry and dropping to a knee to look at him at Harry's level.

"Hello there. I am Sirius Black, sworn to wessex" he held out a hand. Hesitantly, Harry shook it.

"I'm Harry Dursley."

A flash of something that looked like pain swept across the man's face before the smile reasserted itself.

"No, my boy, you are Harry Potter, Lord of Wessex"

—-

Harry quickly came to understand his life had just fundamentally changed, and over the following weeks, he was expected to change too.

"Your father was James Potter, the previous lord of wessex." The man introduced himself as Henry Yaxley, Harry's steward. He was tall, thin, and had sharp features paired with warm eyes, and while he stood with a rigid posture, he was as warm, welcoming and patient with Harry as he could have hoped for. "You might know that he died just after your first birthday. That left that title to you. You are the next Lord wessex."

His education began immediately, and everything was a lesson. How to dress, how to wash, how to walk, how to talk, how to eat. How to socialise properly- to Harry, they were all his betters and every other lesson was "no, you're their better".

His previous education- mathematics, language and literature- were replaced with a new curriculum- Etiquette, the class system, law.

Most importantly he was introduced to something that his family had only ever spoken about in whispers- magic- and his magical education began in earnest.

His primary educator was Sirius Black, who had made the greatest effort on Harry's behalf, both to get to know him and to educate him, and was present in Harry's new life as much as he was able to be.

Some months into his new life, Sirius brought him a letter. It was an invitation to a magical school, the one that Sirius had gone to during his own youth.

"You'll go when you're ready, but we need you to be able to impress your peers, and right now, you present as a muggleborn. The plan is to get you up to speed within the next couple of years."

Two years had been the hope, but nobody had ever needed to do this before- to elevate a muggleborn boy to the title of Lord.

As it turned out, it took rather longer than that.