Save the Future by Changing the Past

He could feel himself being jostled around. It was weird, this feeling, because it felt like he was resting in the crook of someone's arm.

It oddly took a lot of energy for him to open his eyes to see where he was or who was holding him. Unfortunately, it seemed he could only see in blurs, before the action of opening his eyes tired him out.

"Fucking Charlus!" He heard a gruff voice rant. "Always getting everything! Mother and father favored him, he's Lord Potter, he married that beauty Dorea, and he even had twins with her! Not anymore at least. You will be my heir, and you'll be leagues better than the brat I left them. I don't know which one of you is older, but that won't matter by the time you're eligible for the Potter Lordship. At least they gave you a good name. Harrison Hardwin Potter. I was going to name you Hadrian, but that's a foolish name."

He already fell back asleep by then, feeling oddly drained, but he was given some crucial evidence on just what is going on. He'll have to figure all of that later as he was tired.

Lord Charlus Henry Potter was a strong pillar in Pureblood society. He was a monster politically, and dangerous with his wand. Even as a Hogwarts student, he didn't show any weakness to anyone but his now wife, Dorea Potter neé Black.

That strong exterior was very close to crumbling when he was told one of his sons was kidnapped from St. Mungo's.

He was truly excited when he was told that he was going to be a father. Most men would be terrified at the prospect of fatherhood, but not Charlus. He studied several different books on fatherhood and the proper care of a child. He even learned several healing related spells just to be safe.

When he was told it was going to be twins, his excitement doubled.

He didn't even have to wait too long either. St. Mungo's had time chambers made especially for pregnant mothers. Instead of waiting nine months, it takes two weeks for them to birth healthy babies. Then the healers keep the babies for another few hours to check them over and make sure there weren't any issues that would arise in the future.

It was then that the kidnapper struck. They sequestered Harrison away without anyone being the wiser until Charlus and Dorea came to take them home.

Now, Charlus held his sobbing and distraught wife as she held their remaining child, his own tears flowing out of his eyes.

He'd already tried scrying for him, but seeing as there was only the small blanket he used left behind, there was nothing Harrison was attached to yet, so at best, the scrying magic just revealed the he was alive. While it's not ideal, it better than nothing.

-6 years later-

He figured out where he was, and who exactly he was.

To think he'd end up being the younger brother of his father in this new life. He found out about it due to his kidnapper's drunken rants and his muttering in his sleep.

To be honest, he was somewhat happy at the fact that he has a second chance at life. His first one was filled with hardship after hardship, and betrayal after betrayal. In this life, his magic isn't bound, and he isn't drowning in several different potions.

No. Harry Potter was given a second chance, and he refused to squander it.

It was odd to look in the mirror and see purple eyes stare back at him. Thankfully his hair stayed the same mess it's always been. It was a clear sign of his Potter heritage.

"Get up, Harrison! You know the drill!" His uncle yelled. Turned out his kidnapper was his own uncle, Fleamont Potter. He was a harsh taskmaster, and demanded perfection before moving on to another lesson.

The scars on his body was a result of his uncle's "discipline" for not doing something correct.

"Come on, boy!"

With a groan, he rose from his bed to begin another day of torture.

His uncle had more than likely planned to kidnap Harrison for a long while due to the fact that he moved all the gold from his accounts into another account.

He knew that they traveled all over the world, but they only briefly interacted with the local populace so that his uncle could collect more books on spells and runes for him to memorize.

To escape, he'll more than likely have to commit avunculicide.

-5 years later-

"You took 7 seconds longer to complete the spell chain! You know the drill, boy, turn around! Lacero! Lacero! Lacero!" Harry's uncle Fleamont snarled. Harry grit his teeth, refusing to shout in pain.

As soon as Harry got his wand, his uncle began to train him in it's use. All the spells he memorized over the years was to be put into good use or he was to be punished.

"Episkey. That's all you're getting right now. Fight through the pain and focus. Reducto!" Fleamont roared.

Harry leaned to the side to avoid the curse that was aimed between his eyes. He responded with a cutting curse that Fleamont batted away.

Fleamont jabbed his wand forward and a white beam shot towards Harry, Harry swatted it away before jabbing his wand in Fleamont's direction and sending a blue spike at him. Fleamont changed the spike into a knife before catching and tossing it back at Harry, Harry vanished the knife before he responded with a simple disarming-body bind-stunner combo.

Fleamont side stepped the first spell, ducked under the other and blocked the last, then sent two cutters which Harry cancelled out with his own cutters.

Both starting slow but slowly building in speed as the fight continued.

'Happy birthday to me.' Harry thought sardonically.

James was apprehensive.

His eleventh birthday party just finished, and he made a new friend, his cousin, Sirius Black.

His party was only somewhat enjoyable with Sirius there, otherwise it would be a boring affair with stuffy kids his age and their stuffier parents. He knew politics thanks to his father's teachings, but he just found them incredibly boring.

Now, the party is over, and he was called by his mother to have an important conversation.

He loved his mother, and he know she loved him, but there are times when she just got this distant look in her eyes, and she got really upset. Sometimes she would even cry.

Whenever he tried asking what was wrong, she'd just say she'd explain at a later date.

James guessed today was that day.

He made it to his father's office, and knocked.

"Enter."

He walked in to find his father behind his desk nursing a glass of whiskey, while his mother sat on an antique loveseat drinking a glass of wine. She beckoned him to sit by her, and he obliged.

She had an arm around him and just squeezed him. "I know I've been pushing this talk for years, and it's been worrying you, but your father and I think it's time for you to know."

James waited with baited breath. His father then spoke in the blunt fashion most Potters are known for.

"You're a twin, James."

"I'm a wot?" James asked in disbelief.

"The night you and your brother were born, someone we now know was your Uncle Fleamont, kidnapped your brother. We don't know why he did what he did, but he succeeded in taking your brother and vanishing. See that glowing sphere on your father's desk? That's the only verification that we have that says Harrison is still alive." Dorea expanded.

This was a lot to take in, but something someone said finally made sense. "So that's what she meant." James said aloud.

"Can you please clarify that for me?" Charlus asked.

"In Primary, I pulled a small prank, and I heard one of my teachers mentioned to another how she couldn't believe that there was almost two of me." James explained. "Does that mean other people know?"

"Yes, dear. It was international news for a long time. I'd bet that they'll mention it when it's time for you to go to Hogwarts in the Daily Prophet."

"So that's why you get sad often. I have a brother somewhere out there." James was saddened by this news. He always felt something was off, like a piece was missing. "He'll find his way here."

Both his parents looked at him when he spoke. "What do you mean?" Dorea asked.

"We Potters have been a House for several millennia. This manor has been around for half of that. Potter magick is heavy here, so he'll definitely find his way back."

His mother placed her glass down and hugged him tightly.

- Years later -

Helya Higgenbottom tightly gripped her wand with a grin of anticipation curling over her features. Today, she was to join in her first assignment with the Knights of Walpurgis.

Today, she would have her chance to start purifying the filth that had been rotting the wizarding world.

It was a simple raid into muggle London to bloody their wands.

They'd found a muggle pub, not too far from the Leaky Cauldron, and with a pair of guards posted at the entrance, warding and repelling any witnesses, they'd entered in explosion of glass and wooden fragments of what had once been a door, dressed in their dark robes and skull-shaped masks.

There had been shock, and fear, and a wonderful aura of terror. Their wands had risen and they'd been prepared to unleash torment and death upon the foolish little muggles at their leisure. They hadn't been expecting the bottle of whiskey that had smashed into Rosier's face.

They really hadn't been expecting the blast of an incendio spell that followed it up and set him alight.

The muggles were scrambling, panicked and shocked, even more so when one of their attackers who had arrived in an entrance of violence and destruction suddenly burst into flames.

The Knights of Walpurgis weren't doing much better. Most of them had turned their attention to trying to put out Rosier with a variety of spells that saw him soaked, frozen and thrown to the ground. The others on hand ignored his plight to take the opportunity to either gleefully curse anything that moved or, like her, search out the source of the bottle and spell.

It gave her the warning and time to dive out of the way of the banished chairs, bottles, and table that smashed into the group.

And then she saw… Him.

Cold and indifferent amethyst eyes, messy black hair and a look of frigid rage on his features as all around him everything that wasn't nailed down to the ground or one of the muggles themselves was banished at their members as violently she had ever seen a wizard manage.

It had seemed an almost amateurish move to Helya. There were oh so many more powerful spells that could be used. Spells that rotted, destroyed and flayed. Spells that could peel the flesh from a man like a grape.

Then he'd made everything he'd banished explode. Shrapnel of wood and glass rocketed into their bodies in an eruption of pain. As the screams of surprise, agony and rage filled the air, she managed to turn her attention back to him, raising up her wand and ignoring how sticky with blood it suddenly felt. She could feel the pounding in her chest, the fear, the adrenaline, pouring through her veins.

The words rose in her mind, she began to force it through her body, into her wand. Then every piece of shrapnel imbedded in their bodies was ripped free as violently as it had been implanted. A vicious summoning that pulled it all into a great, bloody beast of sharp jagged chunks of wood and claws and teeth of sharp broken glass. Their blood stained it almost to crimson in the dull, warm light of the pub's electric lights, still glistening and fresh from the wounds they'd occupied a moment before.

With a flick of his wand the beast was set loose and it tore into them with a great and terrible glee.

Her wand and spell faltered as the pieces had been ripped out, broken by the fresh surge of pain that howled through her flesh. She could hear the screams of her fellow knights as the beast tore into them. A sickened twist of her stomach came when it was all too easy to imagine what was happening to them as they screamed and the coppery scent of blood reached her nose.

She took aim at him again, desperate now, fear and panic driving her as her hand trembled. His eyes found hers. In them she saw anger, and scorn, and disgust. From them she could see his wand already pointed towards her.

"STUPIFY!" She knew she was supposed to be beyond vocal casting, beyond stupid, childish stunning spells, but at the moment she was panicked and senseless, starting to turn and crawl away as she saw a flash of a shield catching it, before his eyes and his wand began to move closer to her.

She was going to die. She was going to die, here in this stupid muggle tavern. She was going to die crawling away some kind of wounded rabbit before the wolf.

The anger of that thought was drowned away as she watched a body fall to the ground in front of her. Another knight, clutching and gurgling around what had been their throat, trying desperately to keep their life's blood from spilling out like a fresh geyser. She could see the blood seeping, pulsing through their fingers. She could hear the gurgling sounds of their desperate attempt to breath.

Then she could feel the spell that struck her in her back and her whole body became cold.

"Mind explaining to me why the hell I shouldn't have you dragged off to Azkaban?" A younger Alastor Moody demanded as he glared back at Harrison. He lacked his signature peg leg and mad eye.

"Because I was just defending myself?" Harry offered before glancing around. "I was just about to ask directions to the Leaky Cauldron before these idiots attacked. They blew in the door and windows, then stormed in, wearing black robes, masks and having wands drawn. When they started throwing curses at everyone in sight, I wasn't about to just leave it like that."

"Most would've just up and ran." Moody noted, his tone a bit more neutral now.

"I only run when I have to." Harry stated without even pausing. "They didn't even remotely qualify as that dangerous. Well, to me at least."

"There's going to be a bit of outrage over this. There were some rather prominent individuals in that little pile of dead idiots you left back there. The Lestrange's won't be happy their heir is dead."

"Well then, they should've taught their heirs better than to go running about at night randomly attacking people without knowing if they can defend themselves or not."

"If they weren't dangerous enough to make you run, why'd you kill them, then?" Moody snapped back with a growl.

"They came at me, and those around me with the intent to kill and maim. The rest of this lot were muggles and couldn't do anything to defend themselves." Harry stated simply.

Frowning Moody shifted about with a huff as he reevaluated his opinion of the young man in front of him. If it wasn't for the bodies he'd left behind, he'd almost call the kid arrogant. Only, people that left broken piles of corpses without taking so much as a scratch in a fight tended either be boastful or, like the kid in front of him, matter-of-fact.

"What spells did you use then?" Moody half demanded.

With a slow, calm motion, he made a show of drawing out his wand by the tip, offering it in his direction. "See for yourself."

Grumbling, Moody pointed his wand to Harry's and ran the spell in question. Then the results rolled back until what looked like the start of the fight he frowned and went over them.

A simple incendio to start, followed by a few banishing spells. Then there was an explosion hex, followed by a… summoning, and animation charm? Then there was an attack command spell, a shield, a body bind and a cutting curse. There were cancellation spells here and there, but not a single dark or illegal spell among them.

"Huh, a bit more simplistic than what I was expecting." Moody admitted before glancing around.

Harry shrugged.

"… you know something you're not telling me." Moody accused.

Harry looked at him for a moment before he slowly chuckled slowly. "Auror Moody, I know many, many things I'm not telling you."

"Something I should know." He countered back with his eyes narrowed into slits.

"You think this is the first time they've made a little… 'excursion' like this?" Harry asked suddenly, a brow arching. "You think it will be the last? You think they just all happened to be together, dressed the same, working together?"

"So, what, you think this is some kind of sick little muggle baiting club?" Moody asked, his head lightly tilting to the side.

"… I think, Mr. Moody, when you find out what they are, what they seek to accomplish, and what they are not only willing, but planning to do… you'll wish that is what they were." Harry stated seriously as he looked into the man's eyes. "A storm is coming, Mr. Moody. Best be prepared, or be swept away."

"And where will you be?" Moody asked, his eyes narrowed.

Harry shrugged his shoulders a bit, with an easy grin.

"Sir." A young auror, barely looking out of Hogwarts approached Moody and gestured to Harry. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Not much we can bloody well do," Moody snapped back and gave the man a look. "It's a pretty straight forwarding case of self-defense."

"Self-defense?!" the man stated in shock. "But… he had to-he had to have used some kind of dark arts!"

"Banishing spell on the tables and glass, followed by an exploding hex on them after they hit them," Harry commented casually as he twirled his wand about his fingers. "Animation did the rest."

At the Auror's gaping face, he shrugged a bit. "What? You're hardly being discrete and Moody here can confirm what I cast. The dark arts never worked for me. They require too much hate."

Moody snorted. "Aye. Which makes you that much scarier."

"Me, scary?" Harry asked, looking almost surprised. "Who would find me scary?"

For a moment, Moody looked over at the dead bodies and then just looked back at Harry with a flat look.

"I'm sure if you ask them, they won't tell you they find me scary." Harry insisted.

"Sir, they are dead thanks to you." The young auror declared, glaring at Harry. "Some of these are fine, upstanding members of-"

"Please, explain to me what they were doing in a muggle pub dressed like that then." Harry interrupted.

The man flustered and glared back at Harry. "I'm sure that they had a-"

Harry just snorted. "A reason for blowing in the windows, and attacking a muggle pub?"

"They're just muggles, it's not like they were anyone-" The man started, only to freeze when he found himself under a pair of very cold, very dangerous glares.

"Auror Moody." Harry noted in a coolly detached voice. "Don't you think it would be prudent to make sure that nothing important was lost when the deceased had their bowels release?"

Moody slowly gave Harry a rather familiar grin of vicious approval. "Indeed, and best not to use magic. You never know what might get vanished by accident."

"I defer to your judgement." Harry stated simply as he leaned back in his chair while the green auror looked confused for a moment, then quickly paled.

"Sir, surely you don't mean-" The rookie started to protest.

"I think I surely do," Moody stated flatly. "Get started."

"… yes, Sir." The rookie acknowledge with a glare.

"Was there anything else?" Harry asked politely of Moody.

"No, but keep yerself available, though. I'm sure I'll have more questions Mr…?" Moody replied.

"Harrison Potter. I have a feeling we'll probably be seeing plenty of each other." Harry stated with a slight nod of agreement.

Moody pointed him in the right direction of the Leaky Cauldron, then he stood and walked out without even glancing back.

Once he was gone, the rookie turned and glared at Moody. "You're just letting him go?!"

"Kid, how many piles of shit do you have to sort through?" Moody asked, a brow arching.

"What does that have to do with this?!"

"Because that's how many people with wands already drawn he put down in less than ten seconds from what we can tell." Moody stated flatly. "If we had tried to arrest him for defending himself, he would've resisted."

"We could've-" the rookie started to protest.

"And, if you looked in his eyes, and bothered to actually look, you'd have seen he would've resisted." Moody continued, ignoring him. "And we'd either have ended up dead or put down hard. We might've gotten lucky enough to take him down with us, that that was a damned big might."

"He doesn't look older than 17!"

"It's not the age, boy; it's the experience, and the power." Moody stated flatly. "Now that shit isn't going to sort itself, unless you really want to draw it out."

The rookie just glared and Moody was left shaking his head. 'Harrison Potter. Where have I heard that name?'

Dorea sat in her gazebo, drinking tea spiked with a calming draught, and letting her mind wander. Charlus was just contacted about an attack that involved someone called Harrison Potter. Dorea couldn't hope to dream her missing child has finally returned, so she went to her quiet place.

She often liked to sit there and watch the different creatures that found solace in the Potter lands.

As she looked towards the forest, she found a peculiar sight. A large black wolf stared right at her. It's eyes matched hers.

She didn't know what to think as she watched this creature trot up to her.

She didn't move when it stopped right in front of her gazebo, but her breath hitched when she saw it transform.

Standing in place of the wolf was a tall young man with long black hair tied in a messy bun. He wore black boots of an unknown leather, black suit with a purple vest, a white dress shirt and a purple tie. He wore a dark grey trench coat on top of all that.

Dorea didn't pay attention to any of that in exchange for looking at his purple eyes hidden behind a small pinze nez.

She didn't dare move and have this illusion disappear.

"'ello, mum." He said, his voice smooth.

"Harrison?"

Charlus was sitting in his office trying to focus on some paperwork to get his mind off of what he was recently told.

A young man, a Potter, sharing the same name as his missing son has recently appeared.

At first, Charlus immediately dismissed it as a hoax. Then he became incredibly upset at the fact that someone had the audacity to use his son's name. But then his former protégé, Alastor Moody, sent a memory of meeting the so called Potter.

His breathe hitched when he laid his eyes on the lad. He had Dorea's sharp features and eyes, but he could recognize the Potter nest that was the lad's hair, no matter that it was tied into a bun.

His thoughts were interrupted by a large and practically solid, ethereal anaconda making it's way towards him.

"Charlus! He's home! Harrison is here! Come to my gazebo!" He heard his wife's excited voice come from the creature.

He sat stunned looking at the now fading animal before what it said registered. He hasn't seen his wife's patronus in over a decade, so something incredible must have happened for her to be happy enough to produce a near solid representation of her happiness.

When the snake fully vanished, that's when Charlus gained enough of his mental faculties to spring up from his seat.

He grabbed his broom as he raced out the window of his office. Easily climbing on his broom, he sped around the house towards his wife's gazebo.

As he approached, he saw his wife clinging onto a young man in an embrace similar to a snake. The young man was obviously tense, but was making an effort to hug back.

Charlus landed near them, and practically leapt from his broom as he raced to the pair. He saw his wife sobbing into the chest of the lad, and the young man releasing several of his own tears. When he made it to the two, he looked closer at the young man and saw the same face that was in Moody's memory.

"Harrison?" Charlus asked tentatively.

"'ello, dad."

That was all Charlus needed to join into the group hug.

"This is perfect! James is coming home today, so you'll be able to see your brother soon." Dorea enthused, while Harry grinned happily.

"It's actually close to the time we have to go get him." Charlus stated looking at the position of the sun.

"I'll go pick him up, while you catch up." Dorea hiked her dress up and excitedly ran to the Floo.

"Now, this maybe uncomfortable for you, son, but can I ask what happened to Fleamont?" Charlus tentatively brought the subject up.

Harry just smiled.

"So what are you guys doing for the holidays?" James asked Peter and Remus.

The Marauders were on the train at the end of their 5th year at Hogwarts.

"My parents and myself are going to Sweden." Peter revealed excitedly.

"Just a quiet one for me and my family this year, just what I need." Remus explained, clearly content with his plans.

"And you will be graced with my presence." Sirius piped up, looking at James amusedly.

"Great just what we need, a dog pissing up the tree." He returned sarcastically.

"I don't piss on things." Sirius growled.

"We all see you doing it, Padfoot." Peter broke in. "And we can smell it in the forest, you definitely piss on trees." He finished accusingly.

"There's just so many, it's hard to ignore." Sirius whined.

"Well if the Yule tree smells like it, I will curse you or neuter you." James warned.

"You wouldn't!" Sirius exclaimed worriedly. "How will the witches of Hogwarts cope?! What would they do without me?" He questioned dramatically.

"You mean Marlene." Remus interjected.

"That's it!" Sirius declared. "That's the last time any of you mention her or so help me I will curse you all." He threatened.

"Oh come off it Sirius. We all know you actually enjoyed working with her." James stated.

"I didn't have a bloody choice, neither did Peter." The boy pointed out. "How was it working with Rookwood, you never mentioned it?" He inquired.

Peter shrugged.

"He only really spoke to me once." He explained. "After that he just told me what to do."

"Well thank Merlin it's over with now." Sirius sighed.

The journey passed pleasantly for the group as they played a few games of exploding snap and gobstones, talked amongst themselves and started planning a few more pranks for when they returned to school.

Soon enough the train arrived at Kings Cross and they pulled their trunks down from the rack and made their way on to the platform to meet the Potter parents who were waiting for them.

"See you in a couple of weeks guys." James called to Peter and Remus as they exited with their parents.

Both boys acknowledged the farewell with a wave as they left.

"Coming with us, Sirius?" Dorea asked, shooting a glance further down the platform where Walburga was greeting Regulus.

"If that's ok." Sirius answered nervously.

"Always, dear." Dorea replied with a warm smile.

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief before they themselves headed for the exit to floo home.

They arrived at Potter Manor and were about to head upstairs when they were called back by Dorea. "Now, boys, there's someone I'd like you both to meet."

She led the two curious boys to the quidditch pitch in the back of the manor. Once they walked outside, they saw two men with their backs to the the group.

Charlus was holding a small golden ball with wings while the other man held a broom.

Charlus released the snitch and the other man counted to ten before he performed a perfect mount and tore after it, pushing the broom to its very limits.

The other's watched on in sheer amazement as he pursued the snitch, never losing sight of it once.

They watched as he corkscrewed, rolled and climbed with ease, gasping as he became little more than a dark speck in the distance.

Harry was having the most fun he had had for a very long time and was not aware of anything other than the snitch, his attention focused solely on the glint of gold.

The snitch descended vertically at full speed and Harry followed it knowing that it was his and it would not allude him any longer.

He caught the ball and only just managed to pull up in time to avoid crashing, the tips of his toes skimming the grass below.

He grinned triumphantly as he turned to face the others, only to be caught off guard by three looks of shock and a smirking Charlus.

Dorea shook of her shock and it was replaced by a look of relief.

"Can you not do anything safely?" She questioned weakly. "You damn near gave me a heart attack." She chided, smacking him on the shoulder.

Harry could see she was going to go on a rant so he put a stop to it by pulling her into a hug.

"Sorry mum." He said sincerely.

Dorea choked on her next words and just hugged the boy tightly not knowing what to say.

"How did he do that?" James asked in an awed whisper, also knowing she was going to rant.

"Merlin's balls, that was bloody amazing!" Sirius proclaimed.

"Wait, you said 'mum'." James looked into the eyes of the young man in front of him. Eyes that were identical to his mother's. "Harrison?"

"That's right, James. This is Harrison, your twin." Dorea introduced as she led him by the arm.

Harry didn't hesitate to give his newfound brother a hug, it took a second for James to catch up and return the hug. When the hug finished, Harry wiped away some wetness from his eyes, then shifted his eyes to Sirius. "Hello, my name is Harrison. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Sirius didn't hesitate to shake the offered hand, and he shook it with vigor. "I'm Sirius Black, and it's also a pleasure to meet you. It's amazing seeing you fly on a broom."

"Thank you. I just love to fly." Harry said sincerely.

"Why don't you boys go get to know one another? You mother and I have something important to do. We'll join you boys for dinner." Charlus voiced, and he watched James and Sirius lead Harry inside.

"What is it we have to do, Charlus?" Dorea asked curiously.

"I'll show you, but you have to give me your wand first." Charlus insisted.

Dorea scrutinized Charlus for a moment before she decided to trust her love, and handed her wand to her Lord.

"Thank you, dear. Now stop pouting, and hold on." Charlus said with a little mirth. Dorea just pouted more before she held onto Charlus' arm.

Being the Lord of the Potter lands, Charlus is exempt from the anti-apparition wards. He apparated, with his wife in tow, to the dungeons of Potter Manor.

Dorea took one look at her surroundings, then lowered her gaze to the sole occupant in the cells. Her anger manifested as purple flames that appeared and disappeared at random places of her body. "Fleamont."

A messy, black and grey haired man with a patchy beard was kneeled in the middle of his cell wearing nothing but a shirt and pants. He was shackled with magic suppression chains. He glanced up, but immediately put his head down when he saw Dorea's angry face.

"I see why you confiscated my wand." Dorea hissed, but she was surprised when Charlus handed it back.

"I just didn't want you to kill him the second you saw him. You'd pout for weeks. I'm sure, as a Black, you have more than enough knowledge on proper torture techniques. Just make sure he's still relatively in one piece so that I can call the DMLE in the morning." Charlus stated matter-of-factly.

"You'll just allow this, brother?!" Fleamont shouted only to lean back when the Lord Potter showed his displeasure.

As opposed to Dorea's flames, Charlus had lightning arcing in his eyes and his body. "The day you stole my son, was the day you stopped being my brother."

Charlus then visibly reigned himself in, and made his exit.

"Now, dear 'Monty. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Fleamont was then reminded as to why the Blacks were such a feared House.

Bar seen taken from Wind Shear by Chilord