
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13458351.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Sirius_Black/Remus_Lupin, OMC/OMC, Other_Relationship_Tags_to_Be_Added,
      George_Weasley/OMC, Lucius_Malfoy/Narcissa_Black_Malfoy, OMC/OFC, Draco
      Malfoy/Harry_Potter
  Character:
      Remus_Lupin, Severus_Snape, Sirius_Black, Fenrir_Greyback, Malfoy_Family_
      (Harry_Potter), Mulciber_Jr._(Harry_Potter), Mulciber_Sr._(Harry_Potter),
      Avery_Jr._(Harry_Potter), Avery_Sr._(Harry_Potter), Lestrange_family_-
      Character, George_Weasley, Fred_Weasley, Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Past_Child_Abuse, Good_Remus_Lupin, Good_Sirius_black, Manipulative_Albus
      Dumbledore, Evil_Dumbledore, Necromancy, Graphic_Description_of_Corpses,
      Graphic_Torture, Child_Death, Kidnapping, Mpreg_sirius, Durmstrang,
      Original_Characters_-_Freeform, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence,
      Male_Slash, Dementors, Abusive_Dursley_Family, Werewolves, Thestrals,
      Muggle_torture, muggle_death, blood_purity_talk, Protect_Magical
      Children, Graphic_Child_Abuse, Asexual_Character, The_Deathly_Hallows,
      Death, Courtship, Dragon_Pox, Light_Harry_Potter, Dark_Magic, Sane
      Voldemort, Safe_Sane_and_Consensual, Master_of_Death, Top_Remus_Lupin,
      Protective_George_Weasley, Drarry
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-23 Updated: 2018-02-10 Chapters: 3/? Words: 11909
****** reverence ******
by LalynOpal
Summary
     Remus pulls on a fistful of his own hair before meeting the eyes of
     the dark man. His heart beats a fast tune in his chest and he fears
     he’ll have a heart attack before the night is over. “I need you to
     step through, Severus. Now.” Remus pleads. “Please. It’s life or
     death.” More vomit finds its way onto the floor, the choking cries of
     a child reach the Potion Master’s ears.
     “Whose life or death?”
     A deep breath in. “My son.”
Notes
     I hope you like it xx
See the end of the work for more notes
***** two dead boys *****
Chapter Notes
     If a quote or poem inspires the title, I'll post it up here to keep
     my writing looking more uniform and neat. As an aspiring writer,
     these fics are meant for practice and will be edited as I find flaws
     or change my plan. Thank you for reading and putting up with a work
     in progress!
     “One bright day in the middle of the night,
     Two dead boys got up to fight;
     Back to Back they faced each other,
     Drew their swords and shot the other.”
     -part of an old poem with many versions
     2.9.18 - updates made
Chapter 1// two dead boys
 
Sirius Black shudders as the Dementor makes its way past his cell, breathing
stale smelling air on his numb hands. The man slouches further into his lumpy
mattress and presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until his
vision glimmers with little bursts of light. He rocks himself, humming an old
Scottish lullaby under his breath. He can hear the screaming of the other
prisoners echo and his lungs tremble in his rib-cage. He doesn’t belong here.
He didn’t do it.
 
He keeps his hands pressed to his eyes.
 
---
 
Remus Lupin steps into the floo, a stunned squib behind him on the floor and a
child of nearly 7 held tightly to his chest. He doesn't pause as he is spit
from the fireplace into the living room of his small cottage. The child in his
arms chokes wetly and pukes all over his shoulder, but the werewolf ignores the
red-tinted fluid, merely tugs off his jacket. He carefully sets the child on
his worn velvet couch and throws an old blanket over the small boy. His knees
slam into the hard floors as he throws floo-powder into the dying fire.
“Spinner’s End.” He croaks.
 
It doesn’t take long for there to be an answer and the man leans forward,
golden eyes bright in fury. “Lupin.” An icy voice greets. Severus Snape stares
down his beak-like nose, eyes scanning the scarred and exhausted face of the
ex-marauder. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
 
Remus pulls on a fistful of his own hair before meeting the eyes of the dark
man. His heart beats a fast tune in his chest and he fears he’ll have a heart
attack before the night is over. “I need you to step through, Severus. Now.”
Remus pleads. “Please. It’s life or death.” More vomit finds its way onto the
floor, the choking cries of a child reach the Potion Master’s ears.
 
“Whose life or death?”
 
A deep breath in. “My son.”
 
---
 
Severus doesn’t run, he finds it below him, but if he rushes through his home
to gather his medical kit, well that’s his own business. Stepping through the
floo, he finds his mouth dropping in shock, dark eyes wide. The werewolf is far
from the put-together, if worn down, man he knows. Instead Remus’ hair is wild
and his eyes bloodshot and the glint in them is feral. Severus takes a quiet
gulp of fear but does not otherwise acknowledge the dark creature in the room
with him. Instead, he turns his to the couch.
 
“Dear Merlin.”
 
With a wave of his wand, the boys clothes are vanished and he lights a
peppermint incense to help with the child’s nausea. “Is he like you?” Severus
questions as he begins cleaning the bleeding lashes on the skeletal boy’s back,
dabbing gently with a soft cloth.
 
Remus lets out a wild laugh, tinged with hysteria. “No. No, luckily not.” Remus
drops onto the arm of the couch and runs his fingers through the matted hair of
his son. He lets out a sob as his son tries to plead for Severus to stop, that
it hurts. He has to force down his wolf to keep from attacking the perceived
threat. Severus only blinks and helps the boy swallow a mild sedative potion.
He sets the two fractured fingers on the boys left hand and settles himself on
his knees to begin rubbing salve into the wounds on the child’s back.
 
---
 
“He had internal bleeding, over 100 lashes from a belt with the buckle end out,
severely malnutritioned, one cracked rib, and two broken fingers. He has
bruising covering 75 percent of his body.” Severus whispers, horror etched deep
in the lines of his face. Remus buries his hands into his hair and tugs
roughly, shoulders hunched in anguish. “I would like information, mutt. I was
unaware you even had a son.”
 
Remus presses a soft lingering kiss to the brow of his child and beckons
Severus to follow him into the library. He makes them both a glass of Scotch
and folds himself into the armchair closest to the window where the moon hangs
high. A large sip for confidence, Remus makes himself meet the other man’s
eyes. His voice is rough with pain as he talks. “How much would you like to
know?”
“Is there a short version?” Lupin lets out a derisive snort at the question and
takes another sip of the amber liquid. Severus pulls his top robe off and
settles back into the old couch. “Start with the beginning I suppose.”
 
“Alright, the beginning... “ Remus tears at corners of his nails with his teeth
as he gathers himself. “Sixth year, when James lost his father and became close
with Lily, things became different. While James didn’t prank as much as he had,
he was even crueler as I’m sure you remember. Even Sirius was shocked at the
difference in him. I had no idea why he was so brutal to you, but after he
threatened to tell about me being a werewolf, I backed off and Sirius sided
with me. Siri had no desire to hurt me more after what happened 5th year.”
 
Severus finishes off his drink and tries to twist his face out of the violent
scowl it had twisted into. He succeeds, if only, and pours himself and Remus
another glass. “He was particularly harsh 6th year, yes. I still bare a few
scars from the encounters.” Remus flinches but merely tucks himself tighter
into his chair.
 
“Sirius has always been an awful flirt, but 6th year, as we grew closer, I fell
in love with him. After 3 months of me pining for that dog, I worked up the
courage to tell him, well aware I was about to lose my closest friend.” Remus
smiles at the memory. “He kissed me and told me that it was about damn time.”
The wolf laughs which breaks off into a choked sob. Severus awkwardly looks
away and instead stares into the fire.
 
“I’m sorry.” Remus breathes in. “Sirius got pregnant with our son three months
after Lily. I was worried, not only was I a werewolf, but Sirius couldn’t get
leave from the Aurors without alerting someone about the pregnancy. He wore
heavy glamours up until he gave birth with help from Poppy. Dumbledore told
James and Lily to hide as You-Know-Who was after Harry. We rarely got to see
them after that, and when we did, it was horrible. They were so suspicious of
me and Sirius was moody with hormones. They actually tried to convince me he
was unstable from practising dark magic.”
 
Severus bites his tongue to keep from making any comment about the stability of
Black and crosses his legs in the silence that follows. “That doesn’t explain
to me how he came to be injured like this, Lupin.”
 
Remus shocks Severus when he growls low in his throat and leans forward with a
sneer sharp as a knife’s edge, “Dumbledore.”
 
His wand vibrates at the passing of the hour and Severus rises to check on the
child. He is surprised to see the boy awake, watching him with weary gold eyes.
Severus curses when he realizes he doesn’t know the child’s name and crouches
low to make himself seem less threatening. The boy’s shoulders tense as the
dark man moves, but he is otherwise still. “Calm child, I will not hurt you. I
need to check on your wounds.”
 
The lashes are pink around the edges, but he can see the skin slowly knitting
itself back together. The bruises are lighter and the boy manages to hold down
a small glass of water. Remus kneels before his son with shoulders tense with
nerves. Severus watches as the boy raises his hand to trail his fingertips
across Remus’ eyelids, which open hesitantly at the trembling touch. They watch
each other with matching golden glowing eyes.
 
“Hugo.”The werewolf whispers reverently.
 
---
 
The Boy cannot remember life before the dark. One day, he opened his eyes and
all that greeted him was dust and spiders. He does not remember his parents, or
warmth, or kindness anymore.  The lady, ugly in face and personality, changes
his diaper at night and gives him a single bottle of milk. She doesn’t speak to
the secret hidden in the cupboard.
 
He is three before they let him out. They teach him to cook and clean. He
learns to be quick and quiet. He is allowed a slice of toast every other day
and as much water as he can drink from the hose outside. Sometimes less. Never
more. His name is Boy. Or Freak. He is ungrateful. A hideous creature.
Disgusting and to blame for every unhappiness in the life of the family who
hides him.
 
He knows the feeling of a frying pan as it cracks into his skull, lashes and
the feeling of hunger so strong it brings him to his knees. He does not know
love.
 
---
 
Severus rises in the morning, early enough for the dew on the grass to sparkle
like stars as the sun rises. He helps himself to a cup of Black tea and
scrambled eggs with sausage. He hears the quiet footfalls of Remus, who blinks
sleepily at the mug shoved into his hands. They sit in comfortable silence,
watching as the sky lightens further.
 
“How is the old man involved, wolf?” He eventually asks, food consumed and tea
in hand.
 
Remus crosses his arms on the table and rests his head on them. He traces the
steam rising from his tea with his eyes. “Dumbledore was the only other person
to know about Hugo besides Poppy. She swore an Oath of Silence about the birth,
along with already having an Oath of Protection due to her healing as you know.
What I’m not sure you know, is that Harry Potter was born practically a squib.
Scarcely enough magic to cast a single spell.” Severus straightens up in
bewilderment.
 
“Both Lily and James had relatively strong magic though.”
 
“It shocked everyone and when Hugo was born with strong magic, I knew James
could never be told. He told me that he didn’t want to have to feel bad for
using magic around his child because it was born deficient. I was horrified
that the boy I had been so close with was this heartless and I stopped going
around them for fear of them finding out.”
 
They both look up at the small figure in the doorway, and Remus can’t help the
smile that breaks out at the bleary look his son gives him. “Come here, love.
Are you hungry?” Hugo makes no noise as he walks and it sends a chill down
Severus’ spine. He crosses his arms and tries to smile at the golden eyed boy.
The small nose crinkles at him and Severus has to hold back a snort at the cute
child.
 
“I am unsure.” Hugo finally answers, feet dangling off the table from his perch
in front of Remus. Remus sets a plate beside the boy, watching at the surprize
in his eyes at being fed. The narrow eyed look Remus gets as his hand closes
around the fork breaks his heart, but the wolf just smiles encouragingly.
 
“Eat as much as you’d like, cub. No one will hurt you here.”
 
A bird chirps outside the window as the sun breaks over the mountains, casting
a golden halo over the boy. Remus’ breath catches as he stares entranced by the
angelic sight.
 
“Are you a superhero?” The boy’s soft voice only causes Remus’ heart to skip a
beat.
 
“A superhero?” Remus asks, eyes greedily soaking up every face his son makes.
 
“Yes. You rescued me.” The boys face twists suddenly. “Are you a prince? Oh,
that makes me a princess. She always told Dudley stories about princes rescuing
princesses.”
 
Severus lets out a startled laugh as Remus chuckles. “Which would you rather I
be, love?” Remus teases, feeding his son a bite of eggs.
 
Hugo chews slowly, a furrow between his brows. “I am unsure. Princesses get
spoiled and are very beautiful so I do not believe I am a princess. Nor am I
girl." He shrugs delicate shoulders. "Victims are saved by heros so I guess you
are a hero.” Remus meets Severus’ eyes with a dark look.
 
“Hugo, could you do me a favor and look at me?” Severus asks, watching the boy
decide whether or not to look. Hugo eventually does. He crosses his arms and
leans back as he inspects the boy. Hugo’s sickly grey skin is stretched tight
over his bones, snow white with the blue of his veins obvious. His body holds
no warmth and he is ice cold to the touch. He has the usual Black pure-blood
features with high sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin. His nose is dainty and
sharp leading to a full pink mouth. His hair is so black it seems to absorb
light and has Sirius' waves. “I think you are pretty enough to be a princess. I
suppose your father is a prince, hm. It matters not if you're a girl.”
 
Hugo blushes faintly and offers a shy smile to Severus before his eyes dart
over to Remus in shock as Severus' words register. “You’re my father?” Severus
offers an apologetic shrug and finishes off his tea. He rises to give the two
time to talk.
 
---
 
Hugo lets himself be maneuvered into Remus’ lap without fuss, content to wait
out answers. He allows his father time to gather his thoughts. He sips the cup
of juice in his delicately, before chugging back the orange juice in delight.
It was delicious.
 
“I’m so sorry that I didn't... save you sooner.” The voice is heavy with guilt
and Hugo pauses with a grape halfway to his mouth. He glances into Remus’ eyes
and frowns at the tears trailing down the scarred cheeks. “I thought you were
dead. And Sirius, your other father, was taken from me and I had no one to
trust.” 
 
Hugo chews another grape and raises his hands to brush away the tears leaking
from the eyes so like his own. “Why did you think I was dead?” 
 
“You got so sick. You were dying and I turned to the man who had mentored me
throughout school, only to face the biggest betrayal in my life. He took you to
see a Healer and you died. You were dead, love. He refused to let me see you
again and blocked off all communication with me." Remus nuzzles his cheek
against his son's, and breaths in the scent of his cub.
 
“It’s okay, Papa. I’m here.” Hugo whispers and presses a kiss to a scruffy
cheek. Inside his mind, the word dead echos.
 
“It’s okay, Remi. I’m here.” Sirius gives his lover a tender look and presses a
kiss to a smooth cheek.
 
---
 
Sirius thumbs the corner of the letter in his hands, blinking away tears as he
reads the neat script of the man he loves. He can hear the Dementor getting
closer and he sucks in a struggling breath. He is careful as he folds up the
letter, reluctant to part with the last piece of Remus he has, even for a
little while. But he does and he shifts into his animagus in time for cold
creature of Death to reach his cell. The painful memories are vivid, but not as
unbearable in dog form. He watches his son growing sicker. Remembers Remus’
face the day after the full moon in 5th year. Can hear his mother screaming at
him and feel the sharp sting of a cutting curse to his back. Hears Regulus
scream his hatred during a heated argument. He whimpers and pushes his snout
into his paws.
 
---
 
“I am still unclear on how Dumbledore ties into this. Please continue, wolf.”
Severus grouches from his spot on the living room couch. Remus looks up from
his book to see Hugo quietly reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard while
lounging in Severus' lap. Remus can’t help his smile at the disgruntled but
caring look on the ex-Slytherin’s face. Hugo rests his head on Severus’ chest
and laces his fingers in the dark man’s hair.
 
Remus closes his book and sets it on the coffee table. “I don’t know how you
feel about Dumbledore, but I will explain why I trusted him so much and why I
no longer.” The werewolf meets Severus’ eyes with so much loathing in the
golden depths that Severus is breathless with the force of it. “I felt indebted
to him after he allowed me entrance to Hogwarts as a werewolf. He met with me
to make sure I was okay after each full moon. He would bring me a chocolate
frog and a book from his personal collection. He was kind and never looked at
me with a judging eye. I was desperate for approval. My father couldn’t look at
me, and when he did it was so full of disgust that I wished he wouldn’t. My
mother would pretend that everything was as it should be. I was raised with
disgust and purposeful ignorance surrounding me and I wanted that positive
influence.”
 
Remus passes Severus a sippy cup for Hugo and the child gulps the orange juice
with a pleased smile. “Do you know Lily’s sister Petunia? That’s where Hugo
was.” Remus tells him as they both watch Hugo settle back and turn the book
page.
 
“How did he come to be with that horrid bit-woman?”
 
Remus clenches his jaw and Hugo glances at him from the corner of his eyes,
small mouth curled down. Yes, how did he come to be trapped in that dark hell.
“No one knew where our house was. Sirius had inherited a few properties and
plenty of money from a distant uncle who loved to stir up trouble and
recognized that same rebellious nature in his young nephew.  I still have no
idea how Dumbledore found us other than perhaps bribing a goblin, but I doubt
the goblins would turn against the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.. We
were warded against house elves other than our own entering so it wasn’t with
their help. But he showed up one day while Sirius was at work and kept asking
questions about Hugo. I still trusted him at that point and answered most of
his questions. He gave Hugo a chewy toy and he left.” Remus rubs his cheeks
with shaky hands and moves forward to brush a finger over the soft cold cheek
of his son.
 
“Where is Potter’s son now?” Severus asks as he runs a hand soothingly over
Hugo's back.
 
“I haven’t looked for him. I was going to floo McGonagall, but she is extremely
loyal to Dumbledore. For however fair she was to Slytherin in school, she
depends too much on that man for guidance.” The wolf presses his fingers to his
temple as a sharp throb of pain races through his head. “When Sirius got back
from work that day, we flooed to Hogwarts. Hugo was dead on a bed. He looked so
lifeless. His lips were so blue.” Remus’ lip trembles at the memory of his
precious cub so cold and still.
 
Severus runs his hand through the silky hair of the child in his lap and smiles
gently when gold eyes peek up at him. “What were the symptoms of the poison?”
 
“His heart fluttered and he had trouble breathing. He was lethargic. His skin
would go from ice cold to feverish and nothing would affect the temperature. He
couldn’t hold down anything. He’d just stare off into space without blinking
for hours.” Sirius had held Hugo every night, keeping careful watch over his
son. He’d barely been able to close his eyes out of fear of losing their son
and kept a hand pressed to Hugo’s back to know if their son was breathing at
all times.
 
Severus’ lips tighten and he turns his face away from the wolf. Pressing his
fingers to his mouth, he takes a moment to gather himself. “Remus.”
 
Remus immediately straightens and feels his guts churn. Severus passes Hugo to
him and begins pacing across from them. “Remus, if he was poisoned with what I
believe he was, things are worse than expected.” Remus tastes bile, but forces
the feeling down. Severus  grabs a fistful of floo powder and travels back to
his own home. Remus glances from the still green fireplace and back to his son
who looks at him with eyes much too serious for a soon-to-be 7 year old.
 
“Papa,” Hugo whispers. “What's wrong with me?” Remus presses a kiss to his
cub’s forehead and holds him closer.
 
“There is nothing wrong with you, cub.”
 
The floo flashes again as Severus steps back through, large book in hand. He
sets it on the coffee table and kneels down as he flips. He points one long
boney finger at the page and Remus feels his face pale drastically. Hugo
struggles down from Remus’ lap and trips into Severus’ legs. His golden eyes
scan over the page and the child raises one slim eyebrow, mirroring the face of
his favorite Potion Master.
 
---
 
Petunia pulls her glove higher on her hand and scrunches her nose at the smell
of bleach. She rises from her stooped position and throws the rag in the
bucket. Her hand itches, but she ignores it to focus instead on throwing the
last of the Freak’s stuff in the trash. There. Now you couldn’t even tell he’d
been there at all.  She rises to her feet as there is a knock on the door. She
swings open the door, only to gasp at the beast standing there. A hand wraps
around her throat and she’s slammed into the wall.
 
---
 
Severus opens his eyes, aware something had woken him, but not quite sure what.
He rolls over and bites back a gasp as he meets glowing eyes. He hears a soft
hitching sob and leans over to lift Hugo into his bed. “Why are you crying,
child?” The only answer he gets is another whimper so he wraps his arms around
the child and lays them both down. Severus grabs his wand from beneath his
pillow and casts a charm at the ceiling to make it display the night sky.
Petting the boy’s smooth hair, Severus begins listing all known potion
ingredients in alphabetical order. Soon, Hugo is asleep again.
 
When he wakes up, Remus is standing over him with a smug, if slightly jealous,
grin. “Sleep well, Severus?”
 
“Your brat had a nightmare and was embarrassed.” Severus remarks with a scowl
and Hugo bolts upright with a fierce sneer.
 
“I did not get embarrassed.” Hugo hisses and throws himself down and away from
Severus. Remus feels his heart clench and Severus narrows his eyes at the empty
hallway. That child, he muses, seemed to go from age 100 to 7 in mere moments.
The curse of growing up too quickly. 
 
Remus gives chase to his son, eventually catching him in the kitchen and raises
him to the counter to sit. “Tell me what happened, love.” He lets Hugo sit
there as he makes the three of them breakfast. With three plates of pancakes
ready, he levitates two teas and a sippy cup to the table before bringing Hugo
to sit in his lap. Severus joins them shortly later. “Hugo.”
 
The boy slumps his shoulders and pushes his pancake bites around his plate.
“Aunt Petunia is dead.”
 
Severus chokes on his tea and slams his hand into his chest to clear his lungs.
“Child, why do you think that?” The boy in question tries to slink away from
the two men, but his Papa’s firm mouth and worried eyes causes him to slump
further and answer.
 
“She told me in a dream last night. I saw it.” For a moment, his mouth twists
up, but he firms it. “Can I go read, Papa? I’m not hungry anymore.”
 
“Okay, love. You can eat later.” Remus waits until he can barely hear the soft
thump of Hugo’s heartbeat before looking to Severus. “Do you think this has
something to do with…”
 
Severus nods once and takes a sip of his tea. Remus cradles his head in his
hands and wishes Sirius was here. Sirius. Remus bolts up from the table and
rushes into the library. Severus follows at a slower pace, passing by the child
who simply watches him walk with emotionless eyes. He ignores the fear in his
stomach.
 
---
 
Sirius pauses his humming as he hears the soft click of boots on concrete. His
eyes widen as his door is approached and the dull clink of keys on a ring echos
in his ears. “Move it, Black. You have a visitor. Stick both hands through the
slot to be chained.” He tests the metal cuffs with a small pull and shrugs as
he follows the guard into the open area used for the rare visits few prisoners
get. His eyes take in the long black-clad form he hadn’t seen in years.
 
Sirius rakes his eyes over the pale face of his schoolyard enemy and feels
something cold in his chest. Had something so bad happened only Snivellus was
left to tell him?“Black. Before you open your mouth and do not think about what
you say, I have news about your son.”
 
Sirius pauses mid-step, pale eyes narrowing in suspicion. “My son is dead,
Snape.” He spits, muscles tense and he leans forward. "How do you know about
him?
 
“You saw he was dead. You saw his corpse.” Severus steps closer, their noses
close to touching. He holds back a chill as a dementor passes through the hall
outside. “Dumbledore gave your son the Kiss of Death. And your son died. And
your son came back, Black. Congratulations, you gave birth to the first Black
necromancer in nearly a century.” And Severus laughs sharply at the shocked
look on his tormentors face.
 
Only to freeze as his hand is grabbed tightly and a face looms close to his.
“Hugo is alive? He is okay?” Sirius lets out a broken sob and folds at the
waist, using his tight hold on Severus to keep himself up. “Proof. Do you have
proof?”
 
“Remus told me to tell you that ‘the Hare was faster than the tortoise’.” Snape
answers, pulling his hand away from the skeletal prisoners. Sirius drops to his
knees and cries tears of happiness. His baby was alive.
---
 
Remus clutches his son to his chest as he rocks him to sleep for an afternoon
nap. He watches dark lashes lower to brush against his son's sunken cheeks.
He runs his nose against the cool skin and breathes the scent in deep. Remus
settles his son into his bed, making sure Hector the Snake is tucked in with
him. He makes his way  to the library and stares down at the book Severus left
open on the table. A chill works its way down his spine and his clenches his
scarred hands tight.
 
The Kiss of Death is a highly poisonous potion meant to kill the drinker and
rumored to bring them to Death to be judged. The drinker will become sick for
anywhere from mere seconds to days depending on magical strength before dying.
Supposedly if Death judges a soul worthy of his gift, the drinker will be
brought back to life from death. The last known survivor is Pollux Black, 1824.
 
He settles into his chair with a glass of Scotch and slides a hand into his
hair, tugging on the messy strands. Dumbledore had poisoned their son on the
off chance he would be a necromancer. He feels the two way mirror in his pocket
vibrate and he rips it out in a rush. He bites his lip to keep from sobbing and
touches a finger to the mirror. “Lepus.” He whispers.
 
Sirius looks horrible, gaunt and pale, but Remus can’t help but find him
handsome. Remus feels tears, but does nothing about them. “Sirius.”
 
“Remi, darling... “ Sirius presses his hand to his eye to staunch the flow of
tears and takes a shuddering breath in. “Our son.” Remus glances up as he sees
movement from the doorway. Hugo steps are hesitant as he focuses on the glass
piece in his father’s hand. His hand snakes out lightning quick to pull it
close to his eyes. Remus can hear Sirius let out a gasp and Hugo’s eyes are
wide as he watches his bearer.
 
“My pretty baby,” Sirius cooes and Hugo blushes, glancing up at his father to
check for laughter. “He looks like Regulus, Remi. Delicate in a doll-like way,
but the beauty almost scares you.” Hugo drags himself in Remus’ lap so they can
both focus on the sickly looking man.
 
---
 
“How did we talk to Paddy through the mirror at Azkaban?” Hugo asks as Remus
settles him into a chair for dinner. He blows a bite of the chicken pot-pie to
cool it down before feeding it to Hugo.
 
“The mirrors are an old Black heirloom that we used at Hogwarts to pull off
pranks. They have extensive secrecy and anti-detection charms from centuries of
Black family magic so they are untraceable to the Azkaban wards. Plus, when
Azkaban was first put into use, the nobility imprisoned were allowed
communication with their family using mirrors or charmed letters so the guards
aren’t taught to look out for them due to the rules being unclear.” Remus
explains and Hugo nods along, sipping warm milk and honey from his cup.
 
Severus arrives as Remus is lifting his son from his chair. He follows the
fair-haired man to the bathroom with a sour frown on his face. After his papa
turns the water just shy of hot, Hugo climbs in the tub and watches his papa
pull Severus into a tight hug and whisper his thanks. Severus awkwardly pats
the back on the wolf and makes an exaggeratedly disgusted face at Hugo. He
can't help the fond smile that spreads as the child buries his laughter behind
tiny hands.
 
---
 
“You wicked, wicked boy!” The slouched female house-elf hisses, wooden spatula
swinging. The 14 year old boy lets out a cruel grin and picks up the glass
ball, tossing it from hand to hand. His ink black eyes settle on the buggy moss
green eyes of the elf and he lets the ball shatter against the wood of the
floor. His eyes darken gleefully at the heavy footsteps of his adoptive father
coming closer. The looming figure of Taurus Avery takes up the entirety of the
door-frame and the boy looks up at him with a blank expression.
 
“Eudard. What is going on here?” The man asks, glancing between the twitching
elf and the dark delight in his son’s eyes.
 
“Bibsey was coming over to clean up the orb I dropped, sir. A small accident.”
The pale haired boy answers, ignoring the cowering elf as his father turns his
attention to the creature. Taurus nods as he sets a heavy hand on Eudard’s
shoulder.
 
“Your marks in Defense were satisfactory, but I would like to see improvement
in transfiguration. Igor tells me you spend more time in dungeons torturing
first years than studying.” Eudard’s face twists at the Headmaster’s loose
tongue and toys with the idea of cutting it out of that deceitful mouth. As he
walks away, Eudard tosses a wicked grin back at the furious elf wringing her
hands.
 
---
 
Fenrir Greyback slams fist harshly against the heavy mahogany door of the Avery
Manor, movements jittery. The moon behind him lights up the face of Lord Avery
as the door swings open. “Ah Fenrir, do come in.” The Lord’s dark blue eyes
rake over the dirty form on the wolf and sighs at the dirt being tracked across
his floor. “What can I do for you, old friend?”
 
Fenrir sniffs the air and stomps toward the large dining area where a few of
the darkest inclined families sat eating. His golden eyes trace over each face,
skipping the Mulcibers and Malfoy’s, landing on the 14 year old Raphael
Lestrange, youngest brother of Rodolphus and Rabastan. He moves toward the dark
haired boy and grabs his cheeks. “I have need of you, little tracker.”
 
Lord Lyall Lestrange, Grandfather of the 3 Lestrange brothers, dabs his mouth
with a cloth napkin before waving Fenrir into a seat. “What has your tail
twisted, Fenrir? You seem particularly ruffled this evening.” Thaddeus Malfoy,
from his seat next to Eudard, lets out a lazy snort and rolls his wine in his
glass boredly.
 
“I have found out that my grandcub is alive. Briefly last week, the family bond
flared when he left whatever wards are hiding him. I need help tracking him.”
He admits, unashamed. “Raphael asked me to take him with me hunting and what
better time than now.”
 
Demetre Malfoy, elder sister of Lucius, raises her painted pink lips into a
kind smile. “Ah yes, both the best and worst kept secret. Lepus Lycindas Hugo
Black, heir of the Black Family.” Narcissa arches a slim blonde brow and can’t
help but smile in relief at the good news.
 
“I tracked down the boy to a muggle home in Surrey. The horse-lady told me that
a golden-eyed man had taken him away and she was glad to be rid of the freak.
My grandcub, a freak!” The wolf growls loudly and many of adult’s faces dark
with realization.
 
“Filth,” Lucius throws out with a careless sip of his wine.
 
Samuel Mulciber raises a hand to brush over his son’s shaved head, expression
soft. “How could anyone hurt a child?” The Korean man asks with a sorrowful
frown.
 
Lord Lestrange’s wife Amoura taps her dark lips with a long plum nail and she
looks at her husband with a cruel twist of her mouth. “Something must be done
about children trapped with muggles.”
 
Lyall presses a soft kiss to the back of her small hand and whispers, as he had
when they first met, “Anything you wish, my soul.” The click of forks on plates
taper off as everyone conversates lowly.
 
Fenrir takes a large bite of meat from the plate in front of him and Eudard
twirls his steak knife in his hand before letting it fly toward the wolf. The
wolf's hand snatches it from the air and the boy blinks in disappointment
before sipping his wine.
 
---
 
Remus blinks in surprise as the floo chimes with an incoming call. He drops
down in front of the low fire and accepts Severus’ call. He takes in Severus’
carefully blank and the hand wrapped around the man’s throat. “Open the floo,
Remus.” Severus spits out and nods once against the rough hold on his neck.
Remus inches his wand forward and opens the wards, scrambling back and Severus
is shoved through and a hulking figure steps out. Hugo slides from his spot on
the couch to the floor watching the adults with caution. Three pair of golden
eyes take in the others with caution.
***** in the woods somewhere *****
Chapter Notes
     Is this story making sense so far? I worry that I don't give enough
     important details..
     Hope you enjoy xx
     “I raised myself
     My legs were weak
     I prayed my mind
     Be good to me
      An awful noise
     Filled the air
     I heard a scream
     In the woods somewhere”
     -Hozier ‘In the woods somewhere’
     2.9.18 - updates made
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter 2// in the woods somewhere
 
The day the golden eyed man had saved him, it had been raining. He could hear
the calming patter against the windows outside of his cupboard and timed his
breathing to the rhythmic thrumming. The small grate on the cupboard door let
in pale grey light, enough to see his own hand. The thunder had grown louder as
the sky had grown darker. Every so often lightning had flashed. The hair on his
arms had raised with the electricity in the air. His heart beat slow in his
chest.
 
Petunia had cooked waffles for breakfast. Every click of fork on porcelain had
his stomach cramping with hunger, sharp and relentless. The dull family made
simple conversation while they ate. Hugo entertained himself by counting the
vowels in each of the words spoken. As his count grew, so did the bitterness in
his chest. He was so hungry. So very very hungry.
 
57 vowels.
 
He hated being punished. He was usually so careful not to make a mistake he
couldn’t fix without being caught. This one had been an accident. An
unavoidable mishap he couldn’t have stopped. Not that it mattered to the
Dursleys. He had been confined to the cupboard three days prior for wetting the
bed during a nightmare. All it had taken was a bad dream and he’d wet himself
like a toddler. How he hated himself.
 
The nightmare hadn’t even made sense. Perhaps that was what made him the
maddest. Weird snapshots of places he hadn't seen and voices that spoke in a
language he didn’t know. A vision too real to be imaginary, too vivid. But
there was something about it that felt… manipulated. Fake.
 
By the time the Dursley finished eating, Hugo had almost fallen back asleep and
his vowel count has reached 203. He sat up as the chairs slid away from the
table, thudding steps coming closer to his sanctuary under the stairs. “Boy, I
expect a spotless kitchen by the time I’m dropping off my Dudders. No scraps.
One glass of water.” Was Petunia’s parting statement. He hadn’t given a reply,
simply dragged his body from the cupboard after the house had grown silent.
 
He didn’t mind doing the dishes. Found it relaxing in a way, as long as no one
else was in the house. The water would be hot, flushing his skin pink. The
steaming water on his cold hands stung, but there was something soothing in the
warmth. Each dish was carefully scrubbed clean and set out to be hand dried and
put up. From his perch on a stool in front of the sink, he could stare out of
the window. The view is of the backyard. Of Petunia’s treasured garden.
 
Years before, Petunia had led the boy into the garden to teach him which were
weeds and which were flowers. He was to pull up the weeds and water the plants.
It hadn’t worked out well.
 
Oh, it had started fine. He had grasped quickly which to pull, and though the
morning sun was hot, he was shaded by the near oak tree. Petunia didn’t have a
bad thing to say (or she did but it wasn’t about gardening) and he’d worked out
there for hours. By the time 1 had rolled around, the garden had been fully
weeded and the boy’s cheeks were red and had begun to peel. He had cried to
Petunia about the pain in his cheeks and hands, which after the allure of being
good at something new had worn off, had set in. He’d been 3 and a half at the
time and hadn’t learned exactly how cruel his new aunt could be.
 
Petunia had smacked his knuckles with a wooden kitchen spoon and squeezed his
cheeks till he bruised when he had cried harder. Through his sniffles, she told
him this, “I won’t have this kind of behavior in my house from the filth I’m
forced to keep.  Wash your hands and get in the kitchen. There’s dinner to
make.”
 
When she woke up the next morning, her lovely flowers had all wilted, aged
lifetimes overnight, were nearly dust, and in their place weeds of grand height
had sprung.
 
He had woken up three days later after Vernon’s beating had nearly killed him.
Often he wishes it had.
 
Hugo had focused back on his dish scrubbing, pushing away the memory. His hand
cramped where it’s wrapped around the coarse sponge and he flexed his fingers.
The small digital clock on the stove blinks 8:30 and the boy scrambles up to
the bathroom to take his allotted once a week shower. His 5 minute once a week
shower in ice cold water. He took 6 minutes due to feeling to sluggish and
dressed himself in clean, if worn, hand-me-downs. He used string to keep his
pants up on his narrow hips
 
When Petunia walked back in the house at 9:15, the boy was already back in his
cupboard.
 
--
 
Dinner that night had been simple. Spaghetti and garlic bread. Milk for Dudley,
wine for Petunia, and a beer for Vernon. Which turned into three glasses of
wine for Petunia and 5 beers for Vernon. And then 8 beers. Work that day for
the large man had been hellish. Idiot interns and bastard bosses who make to
much money. He wanted to relax. Except Petunia had a migraine and if he
couldn’t relax with his wife, the Freak would do.
 
So as Dudley sat in the living room, and Petunia laid up in bed, Vernon raised
a fist to Hugo. He gave the boy no time to duck or hide. The first hit landed
on his spine and the boy had sprawled forward from the force, unsure how to
protect himself if the target was his back. The next hit was quick and hard,
right in his stomach. He had gagged and stomach acid splattered on the floor in
front of him.
 
Vernon, if asked, would say he is a good man. A family man. That he loves his
son, would never cheat on his wife, and always does what’s right. He took in
his wife’s freak of nephew, tried to rise him right. A firm hand to keep the
freakishness at bay. He was only doing what was right.What was expected of a
man in his position.
 
A meaty hand tangled itself in Hugo’s hair and his face was tugged up. Warm
moist air was blown into his face and Hugo had slown his breathing to keep from
smelling the putrid breaths. Far from over, the next move was a knee to his
ribcage. He felt the frail bone break. Vernon stomped down on the hand the boy
used to prop himself up in his kneeled position. The man delighted at the
scream the boy let out. Hugo can only be thankful Vernon hasn’t noticed where
he has wet himself.
 
Vernon’s sneer was vicious and drool trickled to his chin as he lost himself to
anger. His leather belt was removed and he snapped it together, pleased at the
flinch it causes from the freak at his feet. A loud thwack echos in the kitchen
as the belt comes in contact with the soft flesh of Hugo’s outreached palm. The
boy curled his body protectively over his hand and Vernon took the chance to
rain hit after hit with the belt. Vernon only grew angrier at the defeated form
of the freak and offered one last cruel kick and left the kitchen.
 
A firm hand. Since he was a good man. A family man. And his family didn’t have
room for freakishness.
 
---
 
Petunia opens her eyes as she hears Vernon leave the kitchen, heavy footsteps
leading to the bathroom in the hall. She hears the water start and she presses
boney fingers to her trembling lips. She brushes her dull blonde hair over her
shoulder, and sits up, head throbbing. The knocks on the front door feel more
like nails hammering into her temples. She pulls a soft robe over her nightgown
and descends the stairs.
 
She immediately tries to slam the door, but a hand slamming into the wood stops
her. “No thank you, we aren’t looking to buy anything.” The blonde woman
simpers.
 
“I’m not selling anything, Mrs. Dursley. ” The man calmly replies. “I’m looking
for my son.”
 
She sneers, pulling her robe tighter across her chest. “I assure you he isn’t
here.” The man glances at the houses around them calculatingly and Petunia
swallows heavily. She backs down as a curtain flutters next door and allows the
man entry. “Who are you?”
 
“That’s not important. All that matters is my son.” He answers. She watches his
path into the living room and remembers too late her son is in there. She keeps
a white-knuckle grip on her dressing gown as she follows him. Only to be
shocked as she slammed to the floor and starring terrified into glowing eyes.
“I smell his blood. Where is my son?”
 
A strangled, “Kitchen,” is all she manages.
 
---
 
It’s agony. He’d rather be dead than this. Left on the floor like a broken toy
not worth fixing. He presses a hand to his mouth to cover a wet cry, all snot
and blood and streaming tears. He hears someone knock on the door and hopes no
one expects him to get it. He isn’t sure he had the ability to move anymore. He
shivers as the puddle of pee around him grows colder. The sound of low voices
and then hurried footsteps has him panicking. Hugo struggles to stand, right
hand flat on the floor and left hand curled to his chest, he pushes up. Only to
slip in his own piss. He slumps and pushes his face into his forearm. The steps
are louder and stop right in front of him. A low inhuman growl reaches his ears
and he tells himself not to look.
 
He doesn’t listen to himself. He peeks up through his lashes, subtly arranging
himself to be ready to run. Only to pause. The eyes of the man looking at him
are familiar. His own. The man crouches down, uncaring of the pee soaking into
his pants. A scarred tan hand reaches out cautiously, but Hugo can’t help his
flinch. The man looks pained before his face becomes emotionless.
 
“What is the meaning of this?” Vernon booms, having finished with his shower.
 
“The neighbors,” Petunia warns. She keeps her eyes on the man lifting the boy
into his arms. The child lets out a choked wail and gags over the man’s arm.
 
“We will be leaving now.” The man’s voice no longer sounds human. It’s rougher,
lower. It causes the air to vibrate around them and she feels as if wasps are
building a nest in her stomach. “I’m having trouble controlling myself so I’d
suggest you stay out of my way, muggle.” Hugo finds the disgust filling the
word is an adequate amount for anyone talking about Vernon and rests his head
on the man’s boney shoulder.
 
He isn’t sure what he is expecting the man to do, but it was definitely not
head straight toward Miss Figg’s house. Hugo rests one small hand on the man’s
other shoulder, struggling to breath through the heavy pressure in his chest.
He sniffles quietly, pressing his teary face in to the man’s neck. “What’s your
name?” Hugo asks as the man knocks harshly on Miss Figg’s door.
 
“Oh my, if it isn’t Remus? My god is that Harry Potter in your arms?” The grey-
haired Miss Figg remarks as she welcomes the two in. “What ever happened?”
 
“Strange to see you so close to the Dursley’s, Arabella.” The man, Remus Hugo
reminds himself, growls. The elderly lady blinks surprised.
 
She presses a hand to her hair as if to fix it while making her way toward her
fireplace. “I’m shocked you didn’t know, Remus. Dumbledore asked me to watch
over Harry. A watchdog, if you will.” She laughs. She reaches up to grab her
glasses from the mantle and gasps as she finally sees Hugo’s mangled form.
“Dear Merlin, I’ll floo Dum--”
 
“Stupify.” Remus snarls and steps forward to the fireplace. “Moontown Cottage.”
 
---
Hugo wonders if Remus is a freak like him while the man talks frantically into
the fire. He gasps as nausea swells in his stomach and he pukes on the floor.
It burns his throat and he can’t help the soft cries he lets out. Everything
was getting blurry and Hugo could barely keep his eyes open anymore. Although
he made a considerably stronger effort to stay awake when he realised that he
was no longer alone with Remus anymore. A tall, lean man clad in black stood
next to Remus, eyes widened. The expression looked comical on the man’s severe
features.
 
“Dear Merlin.”
 
The pain is unbearable as the man works on his back. No amount of begging slows
his steady hands and Hugo hates him for it. Until a vile concoction is tipped
down his throat and he knows no more.
 
---
 
When his eyelids flutter open, the world is dark and the fireplace is dim.
 
Hugo had always been clever. A dark cupboard seems to do well for a mind, as
long as sanity isn’t the goal. He was discomforted by how little he knew of his
savior. He couldn’t figure out the gold-eyed man and his motives. What would
anyone want with filth like him. Perhaps the man was an uncle, or someone
related. He’d never seen anyone with eyes like his before.
 
While comforted by Remus, he was frightened by the dark man who had come from
the fire. Severus, if he had heard correctly. The man moved like a snake
readying for a lunge. His hands had not trembled at the sight of the wounds,
had actually steadied as if familiar with the situation. He was the tallest man
Hugo had ever met, even taller than Remus. Severus reminded him of a more
terrifying Count Dracula.
 
Hugo glances up as he sees a shadow come into his line of sight. The dark man
seems to hesitate before lowering himself to the floor. Hugo tenses. “Calm
child, I will not hurt you. I need to check your wounds.” The man’s hands are
surprisingly warm as they press along his back and he slowly relaxes.
 
With half-lidded eyes, he watches Remus kneel down beside the couch, small cup
in hand. The dark man helps him sip before stepping back. The moon shines in
from the window, and he stares at the man before him. He raises his hand,
shaking trembling with fear. Something inside knows this man. Recognizes him as
family. No, this man would never hurt him. He presses his ice cold fingertips
to the scarred face bowed to him.
 
Neither of them move the rest of the night.
 
He wakes up to the distant talking. He brushes a gentle hand over his lower
back and is surprised at the feeling of faint scar tissue. He sees a shirt left
folded for him over the edge of the couch and pulls in on. The white silk shirt
falls to his ankles and he holds it in his hands to keep from tripping as he
follows the sound of voices.
 
---
 
A necromancer. He wonders what that is. Hugo kicks his feet idly as he sits at
the dining room table. He flicks his stuffed snake around the table using his
magic. Magic.He still wasn’t over being able to freely do as he wished. All 3
preferred silence and since Hogwarts wasn’t in session as it was August,
Severus spent his days watching over Hugo. Remus spent his days working on
figuring out how to free Sirius with the Goblins.
 
Severus reads to him daily, often for hours during the day about any subject
Hugo could ask about. Hugo found his favorite subjects were potions and ancient
runes to study with his dark friend. No subjects were left untouched. All
except necromancy that is. He had tried finding the books himself, but Severus
had expected it and charmed the books unreadable by scrambling their letters to
his eyes.
 
The cottage is dark and the sounds of the mountains are loud in the late hour.
Hugo sits slouched on the floor, eyes taking in the woods hued blue under the
light of the moon. He’s alone. He feels much older than he is suddenly, feels
as if nothing around him is real. There is magic in the darkness he has always
told himself, magic inside himself. Never again would he let filthy muggles or
anyone stop him from learning all of the magic he could.
---
 
Three pair of golden eyes take in the others with caution.
 
“Grandcub,” A deep voice greets, smiling toothily at the gaunt boy staring him
down. Hugo rises slowly before offering a calculating glance toward the large
wolf and the wild looking boy near him. Remus keeps a careful eye on Fenrir
while helping Severus’ find healing potions from his robe pockets. “You can
call me Grandpappy.” The wolf tells Hugo.
 
“Hello Grandpuppy,” Hugo replies, face carefully blank. Fenrir blinks before
letting out a booming laugh. Hugo turns his attention to the young teen with
Fenrir.
 
“Pup, meet Raphael Lestrange. He helped me find you.” Fenrir drops his body
onto the pale couch and stretches out his legs.
Raphael takes a step forward and offers a low bow with a feral grin pulling at
his lips. “It’s nice to meet you, Lycidas.”
 
“Yes, delightful.” Hugo mutters and turns away. He had never been around more
than the Dursley’s and suddenly, he felt overwhelmed. He moves to his Papa’s
side and presses himself to it, alert to any move the men make.
 
--
 
“This is boring.”
 
“Shut up, Thad. You’re always bored.” Eustace hisses as he stomps through the
corridors of Avery Manor. Thaddeus crosses his arms but agrees. He was so
rarely entertained these days. “Raphael is supposed to tell us all about the
little Black when he gets back.”
 
Eudard gives a disinterested look toward his friends and flips the page of his
book. Thaddeus throws his legs over the arm of his chair and slouches even
farther into the velvet. A breeze blows in from the open window and Thad’s eyes
slip closed. Eustace looks up from his chess game as the library door opens
with a slam. Malachi Slytherin, son of the Dark Lord, glides into the room,
scowl in place. The dark haired male drops himself gracefully into the seat
across from Eustace and precedes to ignore everyone.
 
“Doxie in your drapes?” Thad jests, nearly asleep in the warmth of the sun from
the window.
 
“Raphael will be back soon. Fenrir sent along a message to set up a bedroom for
two.” Malachi replies, brushing his fingers over his eyes. Another stress
headache.
 
“Where is your father?” Eudard asks the other boy and frowns when Malachi only
raises a brow. His father rarely kept him up to date on his coming and goings. 
 
The quiet pop announces the arrival of a house elf who bows lowly to the 4 boys
in the room. “Master Eudard, your father told me to inform you that Sir Fenrir
and Heir Raphael have returned.”The elf pops away and the boys rise to make
their way to the floo room.
Chapter End Notes
     Comment, Kudos, and Bookmark! Updates weekly (hopefully)!
***** grief and growth *****
Chapter Notes
     "Grief and growth live hand-in-hand."
     -Amrit Brar
     Please enjoy xx
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter 3// grief and growth
 
“Let me through!” The 10 year old boy kicks out toward his father, freckled
face red with fury. “Fred! It’ll be okay!” He tries to rip his arms away from
his brother Bill, but the older boy is much stronger than he. His chest spasms
and he renews his fight to get to his twin. Arthur clamps hands on each of
George’s ankles as they fly toward him, grasping him tight.
 
George can hear his brother rasping for breath as their bedroom door opens and
closes. He clenches his fist and slams his head back into Bill’s nose. He can
feel blood drip down his back as he’s dropped to the floor at the impact.
“George, you have to calm down. You’re no good to him upset.” Arthur tries to
calm him.
 
“I’m no use to him out here. I need to be with him. I can help!” George growls.
“You can’t even tell us apart, what would you know about us?” He knows it’s a
low blow but the guilt on his father’s face sends a dark thrill through his
stomach.
 
Bill groans and pushes away from his spot against the wall, nose finally done
bleeding. He wipes his hands on his corduroy pants and glares down at his
brother. “I know you want to go to him, but you’ll get sick, George. It’s
better this way.”
 
“He’s alone! How is that better?” George stares at them incredulously. “I have
to be with him!”
 
Arthur thumps his chest awkwardly before glancing away from his son. “Molly is
with him so he isn’t alone, son.”
 
The wooden floors creak as George pushes himself to his feet, shoulders hunched
and a furrow between his brows. “It’s not the same. I can help him get better.”
 
Arthur sighs sadly and raises his wand. George barely has time to blink before
a sleep spell is murmured and he slumps to the floor unconscious.
 
---
 
Taurus Avery sits on the plum velvet couch in the floo room, eyes unfocused as
he stares into the flames of the fireplace. The dying August sun reflects off
golden skin as his wife settles down beside him, hazel eyes worried. “Is
everything alright, my love?”
 
He gives her a soft smile and presses a kiss to a sun-warmed cheek. She grasps
his pale hand between hers and cups it to her chest. “Halil… Do you remember my
grandmother, Adelheid?” He asks her, voice low. His wife hums her agreeance and
leans into his side. “You remember that she had visions that she could never
make sense of? I found a notebook with predictions inside last year and I keep
flashing back to them. I think something will be changing within the next few
years.”
 
Halil smooths her chocolate curls away from her face as she answers, “Change is
good. The world has felt very stalled the last few years. Does she say whether
the change is a positive one?”
 
Taurus rubs his eyes with a yawn and pulls Halil to lie down beside him on the
couch for a nap. “She speaks often of liars burning for their untruths and a
great threat of death on the horizon.” Halil huffs as a large arm curls around
his waist and tucks her feet between Taurus’ legs.
 
“A time of reckoning.” Halil murmurs and Taurus only presses a kiss to the back
of her head and drifts to sleep. He dreams of fire.
 
---
Now that he is conscious and not bleeding out during the trip, Hugo loves the
floo. The warmth and pressure around him is comforting and on the other side,
he manages to land on his feet. He blinks ash from his eyes and smiles up at
his father as he’s charmed clean. The room around him is beige and plum and he
drags his toes along the thick purple carpet.
 
A throat is cleared and Hugo tenses as he takes further notice of how many more
people have entered the room.
 
“Welcome to Avery Manor, I am Taurus Avery. This is my son Eudard and wife
Halil.” Hugo schools his face blank, ignoring the concerned glance his father
sends him. A heavy hand lands on his shoulder and it takes everything in him
not to flinch away. Fenrir only squeezes once gently before letting go.
 
Taurus is a broad man with sharp dark blue eyes and a firm mouth. His light
brown hair is kept slicked back neatly and he’s well dressed. Hugo is
embarrassed by his plain white silk shirt and loose black pants and he purses
his lips. Taurus offers Hugo a kind smile, which Hugo returns after a moment of
hesitation.
 
His wife Halil is what Hugo imagines a goddess to look like. All kindness and
motherly love. Her eyes have laugh lines and her smile is gentle as she looks
at him. She's only an inch shy of being the same height as her 6 foot 3 husband
and she wears her height gracefully. She’s dressed in a loose eggplant purple
dress and a stunning amount of golden jewelry that clinks as she walks nearer.
He tightens his hold on his father’s hand to keep from moving toward the
glittering woman.
 
Eudard is examining him with intense black eyes, the curve to his mouth
mischievous. His strawberry blonde hair is pushed back and his black turtleneck
sharpens his jaw further. His strong nose wrinkles as he gives a playful smirk.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lycidas. I’ve been looking forward to this.”
 
Hugo presses his fingertips to the base of his throat and bows slightly, “I
wish I could say the same. This was quite the unexpected trip for me. Please,
call me Hugo.”
 
“Thank you for allowing us to stay, Lord Avery. Are you aware of my…
affliction?” Remus bows but keeps his eyes on the intimidating Lord. The golden
eyed man is surprised at the smile that Taurus gives him.
 
“There is no need for fear, Remus. You will find no discrimination here. Fenrir
has been my friend a great many years.”
 
Remus bows his head in thanks, heart thudding in his chest. He clears his
suddenly tight throat.
 
“No need to be so formal, dear. Please let’s sit down as we continue
introductions.” Halil steps up, holding her hand out to Hugo. He stares at the
stark contrast in their skin as she sits them on the couch next to each other.
 
“Are you covered in gold?” The boy asks her is wonder, mouth dropping open.
 
Halil laughs delightedly as she nods. “Yes, Taurus got me lotion that leaves
the skin sparkling.”
 
“That’s magnificent!” Hugo whispers with an embarrassed blush as he sees his
father smiling lovingly at him. Keeping the shimmer of gold in his vision, Hugo
turns his attention toward the other 3 boys in the room.
 
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” Hugo tells them, unsure how else to greet them.
 
One is of obvious Korean descent, with sharp bones and a straight flat nose.
The boy with a shaved head offers a small, serious smile. “Hello, I’m Eustace
Mulciber the second. This is Thaddeus Malfoy and Malachi Slytherin.”
 
The pale blonde strolls over to perch on the arm of the couch next to Hugo,
hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. He offers a lazy smile down to the
sickly boy below. “Hullo there, sunshine,” Thaddeus drawls teasingly, voice
lilting and low. Hugo ignores his faintly flushed cheeks and turns away from
the grey-eyed Malfoy. With a slow blink of heavy-lidded eyes, Thaddeus ruffles
Hugo’s hair and tucks his hands back into his pants pockets. Hugo tangles his
fingers together and fixates instead on the brown haired boy opposite of him.
 
Malachi crosses his legs and rests his hands on his knees, staring down the
young Black boy. Narrowed red eyes stare into the boy’s and Malachi delves into
the child’s mind with a soft hummed legilimens. Images flash by like lightning
and he pulls back with a startled gasp.
 
“Malachi? Is everything alright?” Taurus asks, turning away from his
conversation with Remus and Raphael. Halil settles a hand on Hugo’s back and
covers his eyes with the other, giving Malachi a stern frown.
 
Ignoring Taurus’ questions Malachi stands. He takes an aborted step toward
Remus, faltering at the gleaming gold eyes. “What did you see?” The wolf-man
growls. Malachi swallows and Remus watches the young male with piercing eyes.
 
Malachi presses his fingers to his eyes and exhales once shakily. “I apologize,
but I found his behavior suspicious and was curious as to his thoughts on all
of us.” Hugo's jaw tightens in frustration. 
 
“What did you see, Malachi?” Taurus demands.
 
Malachi glances to Hugo’s furious eyes and clears his throat. “There was no
need for any suspicion.” A moment of hesitation later, he excuses himself from
the room.
 
Hugo watches him go with a sneer, icey cold and filled with irritation. Remus
can see Severus in his son’s expression and let’s the endearing sight calm the
last of his anger. He lifts Hugo into his arms, who allows himself to be raised
with little fuss. The boy curls up into his father and tucks his face into the
warm neck. Halil rises and straightens her dress before waving a hand toward
the door. “Why don’t I show you to your rooms?”
 
“Hugo’s going to share with me, if that’s alright. He and I have spent enough
nights apart.” Remus holds his son closer and inhales the smell of parchment
and pine that covers him.
 
She give the pair a sad smile."Yes, I'd imagine so."
 
In the East Wing, used for visiting family, Halil opens a heavy wooden door to
reveal a lovely navy blue and gold themed room. Hugo raises his head long
enough to grunt his approval before slumping down asleep. Halil moves back the
thick covers on the bed and Remus tucks Hugo in, pressing a kiss to his son’s
chilled cheek. The kind woman offers a quick goodnight and leaves after
assigning him a personal house elf. Remus removes his outer clothes and pulls
his pajamas from the trunk at the end of their bed. He’d need to remember to
thank the elf in the morning. He crawls into bed and wraps himself around Hugo.
 
---
 
Breakfast is an affair so unlike anything else Hugo had ever seen. With so many
people in the house, there is no set breakfast time so people enter and leave
as their schedule permits. Thaddeus is the only one awake when Hugo is lead to
the dining room by an elderly elf named Jipsey. The dining room is burgundy and
beige, a long mahogany table able to fit 15 without extension charms at the
center. Windows line the wall and the view of the ocean is breathtaking. Hugo
has to force himself away from the sight of the dark water. However, the rising
sun illuminates the room a stunning orange and reflects off of the gold decor.
Hugo presses a hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
 
“Good morning, pumpkin,” Thad greets, looking more alert than expected. He sets
down his Transfiguration book and rests his chin on his hand, smiling languidly
at the wraith-like boy.
 
“I didn’t think you’d be a morning person.” Hugo tells him, lifting himself
into the seat across from the blonde. “Malachi looks more like a morning
person.”
 
Thaddeus chuckles and shakes his head, long bangs fluttering into his eyes. He
tucks the strands behind his ears. “He is actually grumpy as hell in the
mornings. Eudard wakes up in a wicked mood so caution if you wake them up.
Eustace is a night owl through and through.”
 
“I am a light sleeper.” Hugo tells him, unsure of whether he preferred night or
day. Hugo chews a bite of eggs, washing it down with orange juice, before
smiling as Halil steps into the room. Thad gives a relaxed wave before going to
wake up Raphael.
 
“Good morning, Hugo.” Halil smiles, sipping at her fresh citrus tea. She cups
his cheek and presses gold lipstick kisses to his eyelids. He flutters his
lashes as she backs away, unaware of his glimmering lids. Halil’s heart
clenches at the innocent sight. She seats herself beside him and they watch the
sun ascend.
 
“Good morning, Miss. Did you sleep well?” Birds chirp outside the window and
the sound mingles gently with the sound of Halil’s laugh.
 
“I slept wonderfully, thank you. Call me Halil, sweetheart. No need to be shy
with me.” She piles more fruit on the underweight boy’s plate. “Did you like
your room?”
 
“It’s amazing! The walls had gold on them too!” He tells her excitedly,
thrilled with the shiny bedroom.
 
“You really like gold, don’t you?” She asks as she butters her toast.
 
He flushes as he nods. “It’s just really pretty. Your skin is gold and it’s
pretty too.” He blurts. She cooes at the cute child and he avoids looking in
her direction after that. Her mouth quirks up, but she firms it lest he
believes she’s making fun of him.
 
“Oh my, I’ll have to keep my eye on you, you sly little bugger. You’re gonna
sweet-talk my wife right from me, aren’t you?” Taurus jests, voice shaking with
laughter and he gives Hugo a bright smile. The boy’s face contorts, but there’s
a playfull glint in his eyes.
 
The Lord watches as his wife removes one of her many pressed gold pendants and
latches is around Hugo's neck. The boy stares at her slack jawed as if she had
just given his the greatest gift in the world. “For me?” He hears the boy
whisper to her. She nods, brushing raven locks back from his face. “I’ve never
had a present before,” he admits. Taurus sinks back into his chair. Filthy no-
good muggles.
 
More voices float in the hallway and soon the table is filled with people. Hugo
closes his eyes and listens to the clatter of forks against plates, but instead
of anger, only warmth resides in his chest. Eustace tells him that gold suits
him and Hugo beams even brighter for the rest of breakfast.
 
---
 
Raphael stretches his back as he stands and smirks at the gold eyes watching
him wearily. “Are you up to anything today, wolf-cub?” He asks Hugo, who
responds in the negative. “Great, you can hang with me today. Fenrir wants to
take you out into the woods. Get dressed in clothes to get dirty in.”
 
“What does Fenrir want with him out there?” Remus asks him, distrust clear in
his tone.
 
Raphael offers a wild grin and shrugs. “Bonding stuff, I’d wager. I’m tagging
along for tracking practice. Fenrir and the cub will most likely run while I
try to find them.” The boy scurries away after his father excuses him. Raphael
offers a loud goodbye and charges off after Hugo to lead him to Fenrir once
he's bundled warmly. And a small bit of transfiguration later, he is.
 
“Tomorrow, I’d like to take him swimming.” Halil tells Remus.
 
“Can I tag along then?” Thaddeus asks from his spot by the window, watching
Fenrir stalk toward the forest at the back of the manor.
 
Halil gives the boy a fond look, “Of course, love. You know you’re always
welcome with me. Invite your mother along.”
 
“Will do,” Thad smiles, only to jerk as a sharp clash sounds near his head. An
owl flies in as he opens the window, gliding a low circle before landing next
to Remus. He trades bacon for a letter.
 
---
 
Fenrir watches Raphael walk toward him with Hugo hand-in-hand. The teen’s
chestnut hair is loose and wavy and blows in the salty air, leaving him
sputtering as it flies into his mouth. “Fenny! Look what the wolves dragged
in!” Raphael yells, letting out a barking laugh. Fenrir growls playfully at the
teen and gives his grandcub a loving look. He waves the boys over and Raphael
nudges the boy with him into running and Fenrir scoops him when he’s close
enough. The grey-haired man tosses his grandcub into the air and listens to the
delighted laughter the ensues.
 
“Alright boys, we’ve got quite the fun filled day planned. Hugo, how would you
like to help me teach Raphael tracking?”
 
Hugo grins from his perch on Fenrir’s arm. “Oh yeah, I’d love too!”
 
Raphael grins at the boy’s enthusiasm only to have to tug his hair out of his
mouth. “Alright, I’m ready.” With a howl, Fenrir sets his grandcub on his
shoulders and take off into the woods. Hugo’s shouted joy echos until finally,
the woods swallows up the enchanting sound. Raphael shakes out his body and
breaks into a trot, smile wide and feral.
Chapter End Notes
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End Notes
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