Flight of the Raven

Full Summary

WARNING: Slash, Independent!Harry, Slave!Harry, Twin!Harry, Grey!Powerful!Harry, (:D Oh you love it really.) Manipulative!Dumbledore, Ron-bashing, James and Lily-bashing.

On the fated night of all Hallows eve 1981, no one ever knew what really happened at the little cottage dubbed 'Godrics Hallow'. Twin boys both marked, streaked in blood, dark magic splattered all around. The elder twin was named the Boy-Who-Lived, the mark of a lion's paw on his left shoulder, marking him as the Heir of Gryffindor. But what of the Younger Twin? Upon the suggestion of the aged Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, the youngest of the pair was to be left with his mother's sister, Petunia Dursley, never to know his true roots until he returned to Hogwarts. However, things didn't go quite as so brilliantly planned. Abandoned in an Orphanage in May of 1983, three-year-old Harry Potter is adopted by an American Witch, Selene Dulcis Greyback, Necromancy Professor of the Heinlin Arial Academy of magic, and her werewolf husband, Ixion Greyback, Weaponry, hand to hand, Defensive and offensive Magicks Professor at Heinlin Academy in July 1983. Renamed Raven Morrigan Dulcis Greyback he becomes the youngest student to ever graduate from Heinlin at 15-years-old, the usual age when Students are accepted into the Academy. Two years after graduating, our favourite little assassin is tracking a target when he is caught by Slavers in Arabia. Only to be sold off to, of all people, the Poncy blond Ferret of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy, and come face to face with his past.

Raven/Draco, Selene/Ixion, Ryuu/Donovan, Tanya/Blaise, Neville/Luna, Ron/Hermione, Ginny/Dean, Sirius/Anayla, Remus/Rhiannon, Tonks/Charlie, Bill/Fleur, Lily/James, Miho/Snape.

For the non-Japanese savvy people

Kaa-chan: Informal way of saying 'mother'

...-sensei: an honorific-suffix for someone of a particular position, mostly used for teachers or doctors.

Seiza: sitting on your shins, very uncomfortable if you're not used to it, traditionally done when partaking in Japanese Tea Ceremonies and events of a similar nature.

Chapter 1

First Steps

Emerald green eyes watched the groups of individuals bustled about the small encampment from where he was sprawled in the shade of a random tree with the rest of the "Meat". Slavers. Those who prophet in the bartering of human lives as if they were nothing more than raw meat, the black haired youth smirked slightly, his eyes ranging over the various figures that shot him confused, irritated, interested and lustful glances.

He'd been captured only a few days ago, he'd been tracking a target that the Fae had requested he... dispose of, the price was too hefty for the black haired male to refuse this time, Aunty Miho needed some more potion ingredients, while normally she could get them from the Black Markets in India for very little, these ingredients needed to be purchased legitimately from the Emperor's Palace in China. So, he had accepted the Fae's job and set out to deal with the target, the money would be directly routed to Kaa-chan who would then give it to Aunty Miho. He'd set out not too long ago, but tracking someone through the desert was difficult and he'd had to use all of his considerable skill and the knowledge that Jonochi-sensei had pounded into his head during their tracking lessons at the Academy.

It was 1997, his 17th birthday wasn't long off, he'd been captured on June the 27th, by his reckoning, it was roughly July 5th now. He could have been mistaken, after-all, those Magical Restraints had put him out for a long time when they were first snapped on, burned too. It seemed to worry the Slavers when they saw the flesh blistering under Magic imbued iron manacles because they snapped another onto his other wrist; his Magic was well and truly cut off from him. Annoying but not too much of a hindrance.

Raven Morrigan Dulcis Greyback sighed as he flicked the raven black hair that was his names-sake out of Avada Kedavra green irises to watch the hustle and bustle of the camp. Little else to do, they had taken all of his possessions ready to sell them off along with him to whomever took a liking to his looks, he wouldn't have to wait long.

Raven's lips twisted into a smirk as one of the younger Slavers approached, braided hippo-hide whip in one hand, obviously this one had not heard about that he'd done to the last three individuals who took an interest in his personal space.

"(On your feet.)" He growled in Arabic, Raven arched an eyebrow and deliberately leaned back, crossing his legs and placing his chained hands behind his head.

"(I think not, it's much more comfortable down here.)" He replied, green eyes glittering coyly in the dappled sunlight, no one in Heinlin could ever say that Raven Greyback did not know how to get what he wanted. He was a shameless flirt when he wanted to be.

The slaver lashed out with the whip which Raven grabbed, mid crack, and wrenched out of his abuser's hands with a smooth jerk that Tsukasa taught him, the Charms Professor always did prefer whips to her customary gun slinging, said they didn't make as much noise.

"(Tut, tut, tut. Wouldn't want to go ruining the merchandise now would we?)" Raven teased smoothly before tossing the whip over to the youth sprawled out over the sand, "(Go play with the other children. I'm sure your mentality will fit right in.)" He stated waving a dismissive hand.

The youth scrambled to his feet, face darkening with an angry blush at his mistreatment at the hands of a slave, the younger male looked at him sharply from where he was reclining; eyes the colour of Death narrowing upon him,

"(I said Scram. What part of that did you not understand? Beat it runt!)" And beat it the youth did, he was already running back toward his tent before Raven had finished speaking. Rolling Death coloured eyes, Raven settled himself back for a nap, his mind, for the first time in many a year, going back to the happiest day of his life.

Thursday 11th of May 1983.

He stood on the doorstep, clutching the ratty backpack thrust into his scrawny arms by the sharp voiced bony-horse lady, his Aunt Petunia, watching as the black car drove out of the small inlay with a squeal of tyres. Leaving him stood there, holding the bag filled with Dudley's old hand-me-downs, in a pair of Aunt Petunia's old tennis shoes with scraps of kitchen roll shoved into the toes to help them fit better –which were slowly getting filled with water as the rain seeped through the thin canvas fibres, on the doorstep of a large Victorian red-bricked building.

Swallowing, he turned away from his retreating relatives and looked up at the large door, it was scary... a plain wooden door with windows set into it, one or two with a swirling pattern.

Raising a timid hand he knocked hesitantly on the wooden door, too small to reach the bell, and waited, shivering in the cold as he clutched the backpack tightly to his skinny frame.

His name was Boy, or Freak. He answered to both, the man with the purple face always shouted at him, always called him that, they were strange names but he knew they were his. Why had they left him here? All he did was sneeze, he honestly didn't mean to vanish all the dust, he thought Aunt Petunia would be happy now that she didn't have to do the dusting. But she just went very, very pale, told him to get into his cupboard in a strange squeaky voice while his Uncle went that funny shade of blackcurrent he associated with Dudley's favourite skittles.

"Hello little one." Exclaimed a female voice as the door opened, Boy looked up into the surprised, yet friendly round face of the kind lady who would take care of him for the next few months. "Why are you here all alone?" She asked scooting down to his height, sitting with her legs folded under her body –it was later that he would come to know this position of sitting as Seiza and how it was normally practiced in tea ceremonies in Japan.

"Umm, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon told me to give the person who opened the door this." He muttered timidly bringing out a small envelope from the front pocket of his ratty backpack. The young lady smiled and cracked it open, her smile however dropped the further in she read, she also began to go a little pale before sighing and folding the paper up into a smaller square and slipping it into the pocket of the baggy washed out jeans.

"Well, it looks like you'll be staying with us. Your Aunt and Uncle and asked me to take care of you on the note until someone else can adopt you." She explained the smile once again tracing her lips; Boy wondered why she was suddenly so sad.

"What's wrong?" He asked clutching the backpack tightly, he didn't want to make the nice lady sad, she'd been so kind to him. His bottom lip trembled slightly,

"I'm just sad because your Aunt and Uncle couldn't take care of you. It's terrible but not uncommon. My name's Emily, what's yours?" She asked getting to her feet gracefully and offering her hand out to him,

"Boy, Boy or Freak." He added, he had two names that she could take her pick of, Emily however paused, the smile on her lips twitching slightly at her kindly brown eyes suddenly became furious, Boy stepped back unable to help the small quiver of fear that jolted through his tiny body. Emily however just sighed,

"Those aren't very nice names." She explained, "its rude to call people names like that, looks like we'll have to give you a new name, how does that sound?" She asked smiling sunnily enough to make Boy forget that it was raining. He smiled tentatively as he stepped closer and gripped her outstretched hand.

"Alright." He whispered.

Saturday 25th of July 1983.

Emily had gone through his backpack and discovered that his name was Harry, probably because of the name on his baby-blanket. So now that was what everyone called him, Harry, no more Boy or Freak. Just Harry.

And he loved it. Eventually, in fact, not long after he'd been left, Harry came to understand that his relatives had, in fact, abandoned him. Put him up for adoption at the St Michaels All Angels Orphanage. Harry had cried and Emily had sat up with him most nights so he could cuddle and cry, Emily worked at the Orphanage with her older sister, Sister Laura, who was a Nun, Sister Laura was firm but fair and she taught him how to read and write his own name during their English lessons on Friday Mornings. But Harry preferred Emily's Art lessons; she let him use the colourful paints and pencils and pens and the paper and glue to do whatever he wanted. His artwork was always up on the walls and everyone was very proud of him.

He loved it at the Orphanage.

It was on Saturday morning when he'd run into the Visitor's Lounge to show Emily his latest picture –a finger painting of a black dragon breathing fire, it wasn't half bad either, when he ran into the biggest man he'd ever seen. The biggest man, but the kindest eyes.

Harry stumbled backwards onto his butt bringing a rumbling chuckle from the big stranger who crouched down to his eyelevel, amber and gold eyes bright with warmth and mirth. Harry liked him already.

"You OK Tyke?" He asked kindly slipping well-worn and calloused hands under his armpits and plopping him back into his feet before picking up the picture and grinning, "Wow, you painted this?" He asked looking at the picture a contemplative look in his eyes,

"Uh huh. I painted it for Emily, she's really nice." Harry explained, the man smiled chuckling again.

"That she is, cute too." He added smirking at the boy who just nodded seriously, "Hey honey, come take a look at this. I think we may have found a descendent of Picasso." He called over his shoulder to a young woman with black hair like Harry's own dressed in a pair of jeans and a green turtle neck.

"What's this?" She asked, her voice musical as she crouched down to Harry's eye-level beside her husband, Harry stared at her, she was beautiful, her skin was really pale and her eyes were the most vibrant cobalt blue he'd ever seen, they looked like the blue from the paint pots in the art room.

"Startling resemblance to a Hungarian Horntail, no?" the amber eyed man asked with a grin as he passed the picture over to her. Blue eyes examined the picture as she nodded, raven black hair slipping over her shoulder as she did so,

"Indeed, and is this our arteest?" She asked smiling warmly at Harry who had been unable to tear his eyes away from her. To a three-year-old she looked just like an angel, minus the wings and halo.

"Yup, little tyke ran right into me in haste to give it to his girlfriend." The man teased, snapping Harry out of his Angel-gazing. The boy flashed him a glower,

"Emily isn't my girlfriend!" he snapped, bringing laughter to both adults.

"Of course she isn't. Because I am. Sorry Ixion-baby, you've been replaced." The Angel teased, whisking Harry into her arms and running off down the corridor while her husband spluttered in surprise and Harry crowed with laughter.

Growing up with Selene and Ixion was the best thing that had ever happened to Harry, they had spent the whole day playing with him, they weren't interested in any of the other children though they did bring enough Penguin bars for everyone to have two and Ixion told them all scary stories hidden under a bedsheet in the play-house using a flashlight while Emily sat in behind them clutching two of the younger children closely as she added in various sound effects.

Selene and Ixion adopted Harry that very day saying that they'd fallen in love with the little bundle of black fuzz, they renamed him too, Harry didn't mind much, he'd had a lot of names in the past. Maybe he'd be able to keep this one. They called him Raven, Raven Morrigan Duclis Greyback. They'd given him a lot of names explaining that no matter what happened next, he would always have a name from them.

Later, Raven learned that Selene couldn't have children, hence why she was at the Orphanage. There was an accident a few years before he had been born, Ixion's older brother didn't like her much and hurt her, so she couldn't have any children. It was around then that he also learned that Selene was a witch and Ixion was a werewolf, a bit of a surprise but Raven didn't mind, on the fullmoon nights, Ixion was locked in a special room where he transformed, the door was five inches of solid steel with reinforced iron guiders but Selene was always close-by during those nights, and she always had her wand close at hand. Just in case.

Since they were both professors at a boarding school, they managed to get the Headmistresses, a pair of twins called Nirvana and Pandemonium Shizukana, to allow Raven to attend the Academy earlier than they normally would have allowed. For a few years Raven just ran rampant throughout the academy, sitting in with one or two lessons, laughing and joking with the older students and showing them secret passage-ways that Ixion had shown him, but only the ones that he was allowed to tell them about. The students often got into fights, but never, never did they ever hurt Raven, one or two may have tried but they were fast put down. No one wanted to know what the Necromancy and Battle Magic professors would do if their child was hurt, a child that they'd wanted for many years. It was in February 1987 that Raven joined in with the rest of the students properly, he even did the entry test, despite not really needing to. He spent 6-days in the Valley with nothing but the clothes on his back, a knife and an emergency Portkey which would take him to a small Magical Hospital in Shanghai.

Raven took a lot of subjects and continued living with his parents, it was in 1995 that he graduated, the youngest ever Alumni at 15-years-old. Usually the age when students were accepted into the Academy.

For two years after his graduation he either stuck around helping out in classes, mostly in Ixion's battle classes and Xiomara Arya's Curse Breaking classes; or going off around the world working as an assassin, a ward maker or breaker, whatever really caught his interest. The Professors at Heinlin had taught him a variety of skills in each of their selected fields so in short Raven could chose any profession he saw fit.

Which brought him to assassinating a Slave-trade Ring-master who not only specialised in Magical Species, but in Fae, hence why the Elders were determined to see this guy 6-feet under. Raven knew his chances of catching this guy, he would frighten off everyone but the richest of customers –which the Ring-Master automatically dealt with, Raven would break free, snap his neck thus killing him, send a Telepathic communication to the Fae stating that the job was done, call for Aeria, his Phoenix familiar, and go home. Simple.

"This is our most recent acquisition." Speak of the Lard-Ass.

Raven cracked open an eyelid to watch as the richly dressed Arab led a pair of white-blond Caucasian men over, he arched an eyebrow at the vile green hue that centred around the Elder's left fore-arm. Death Eater. He sniffed disdainfully and closed his eyes again, he should have known that the Ring-Leader had ties to the Death Eaters, after-all, Voldemort was looking for as many raw materials as he could for his army of Inferi. He suppressed a smirk, first year Necromancy spells, honestly. If he ever came up against a true Necromancer, Voldemort wouldn't stand a chance.

Silly Dark-Lord wannabie.

Draco Malfoy despised the desert.

The sand got absolutely everywhere. All coarse and rough, and the people were no better, as for the heat, thank Merlin for Cooling Charms and the restriction of Underage Magic having been lifted upon his 17th birthday on the fifth of June, exactly a month ago.

The youth wrinkled his nose as he followed his father through the various hitched up tents, listening to the barbaric tongue in which the coloured men spoke. The sunlight overhead beat down upon him relentlessly and Draco scowled darkly, if he got sunburnt there would be hell to pay.

"I'mam!" Lucius called over to an extravagantly dressed Arab gentleman, a large purple turban wrapped around his head reminding Draco rather disturbingly of his First-year Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, useless cretin, of course then they discovered he had the Dark Lord growing on the back of his head like a malignant tumour and of course Aiden Potty, the bloody Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die had to go ahead and do something incredibly stupid and Iffindork-like which ended up in him being stranded in the Hospital Wing while his father and the Headmaster took care of Voldemort and banished him from Quirrel's head. Draco didn't hold Aiden Potter in very high esteem, he is supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived but his magic and grades were average at best, his best subject was Charms surprisingly, everyone had expected him to be a wiz as Defence considering his past but he was pretty useless at it. In their second year he managed to get himself poisoned by the conjured snake he'd fired off at him during the Duelling club. Potty spent a week in the hospital wing and both Professor Evans –who had taken up her Maiden name to save the students from confusion as both she and her husband were teaching, and Professor Potter frothing at the mouth for both Draco's expulsion and Gilderoy Lockhard's dismissal. It didn't happen. At the end of the year, Granger, Potty and Weasel figured out that the Defence professor was nothing but a fraud who took credit for other people's stories and memory charmed them, he was sent to Azkaban –due to be released this year at Christmas, for reforming unsanctioned Memory Charms and other crimes Draco didn't want to think about.

The pudgy Arab grinned widely as he noticed Lucius and his son approaching, showing off a gold and ruby encrusted tooth which caught the desert light as he did so.

"Lucius, old Friend, what brings you to this Allah-forsaken armpit of the planet?" The man asked cheerfully clasping his father's extended arm, Lucius smiled thinly, if it were possible the temperature even managed to drop, but it could have just been Draco's imagination.

"A Slave for my son. He had just come of age and its time he had someone to occupy his time rather than baiting foolish lions." The blond aristocrat demurred causing the Arab to look at Draco sharply, his black eyes studying him intently; Draco sneered and straightened under the scrutiny, arching a single white/blond eyebrow mockingly as if to ask if there was any fault. Which there wasn't if the man wanted to sell any of his Mud-Blood cattle. Draco wondered briefly how much he might be able to sell Granger to the man for. She was smart and... attractive for a beaver-faced mudblood, he might be able to get a Galleon or three for her.

I'mam nodded, "Hm, I cannot see your son taking on any of this... filth, but I believe I have some fresh meat that might interest you both. Very powerful, he needed two Limiters to keep his Magic fully in check." He explained leading them towards a small ticket of trees at the far end of the camp, "Dangerous too, we have been unable to trace his lineage through the usual routes as any who come within three feet of his person are killed rather swiftly."

"And you think this savage will interest us?" Lucius asked, his voice silky smooth and cold. If anything, his almost pleasant tone suggested a violent and messy death should the answer displease him. I'mam however just laughed,

"But of course. When you manage to gain full control of him, his expertise will ensure you a living heir for a very long time. A bodyguard if you will." He explained with a toothy smile as he gestured to a male sprawled out in the shade of a rather spindly tree. Draco frowned, a bodyguard would be useful if the way Potty, Weasel and Beaver had been watching him like bloody hawks lately, he was very paranoid that some Iffindork twat would jump him in the halls for simply being the son of a Death Eater. "Ah, here we are. This is our most recent acquisition." I'mam said gesturing to the youth.

Draco tilted his head, studying the sleeping youth. Shorter than he was at least, 5'6" in height it was hard to be exact without the youth standing up. His skin was very lightly tanned; sleek muscle greeted his eyes as the male's bare-chest rose and fell steadily with sleep. He still wore a pair of pain black cotton trousers; his boots had been discarded along with his socks allowing the tattoo of a spider's web on his left ankle and a black viper on his right to catch the sunlight. The youth was good-looking, very good looking, his raven black hair fanned out beneath him as the edges of the silver magic limiters caught the dappled light, it was long, roughly shoulder length and framed his face well. Larger than usual eyes cracked open, displaying the most startling shade of deep green Draco had ever seen in his life, a small smirk flittered across pale lips as those eyes peered at him before moving onto his father and closing again, evidently seeing them as no one of note. Draco frowned, a ghost of a resemblance, very, very small, but it was enough to cause a stir of discomfort. Potty and the black haired youth looked... very similar. And there was that rumour a few years back about him having a younger brother, a twin. Dumbledore had been acting very strangely that year, Potty senior and Potty Mudblood had been on the verge of a break-down at one point in his fifth year and it couldn't have been because of Potty junior, he wasn't even doing anything dangerous that year as his Dark Oozie-ness had been laying low as the papers continued their merry little smear-campaign against Potty junior.

"We call him Aspling, for his words are sharp and deadly, but it is his bite that has caused us the most trouble. Which is strange because he put up next to no fight when we caught him." I'mam explained, Draco tilted his head as he watched the smug, sly smirk once again flicker onto the youth's face and frowned.

'He wanted you to catch him...' Draco thought as he watched the boy some more, the black haired youth couldn't have been much older than he himself, in fact, judging by his height, he was roughly 15-16-years-old at most, so... there couldn't have been any chance he was related to Potty. Could there?

"What do you think Draco? Do you like him?" Lucius asked, noting how his son had yet to tear his eyes away from the dark beauty. Lucius approved of the youth, but they would have to place him under Compulsion spells and potions for the first two weeks until the residual effects would be ingrained in the boy's mind, ensuring complete loyalty to the Malfoy Family, in specific, Draco.

"I want him." the blond stated simply watching how those startlingly green eyes instantly snapped open and zeroed in on him as if they'd never left his face. An eyebrow rose in askance but Draco firmly turned to look at I'mam. "How much?" He demanded ignoring the amused and knowing look on the older Arab's face.

"I give you a special price, since he doesn't speak English, 37 Galleons and 13 Sickles." He said, Lucius scowled,

"That is far more than any of your other cattle, I'mam. If I didn't know you better I would say you're trying to Swindle me. 30 Galleons." Lucius purred as he began the bartering.

"The price is fair in comparison to his Magical Power. 40 Galleons." I'mam rebuttled,

"I am, unfortunately, only going on your word of his Magical talents. 25 Galleons."

"When we have finished the arrangements I will show you his powers. 30 Galleons!"

"Deal. And I'll be looking forward to that demonstration." Lucius added before the slightly dim I'mam figured out he had just named the original price Lucius had proclaimed at the beginning of their bartering. The Arab, once he found out, smirked and bowed to him. Not one to take such a small thing like that as an insult –especially when it was the Dark Lord's right hand man who did it. He wasn't suicidal.

"Of course, this way to my tent."

"Draco, you stay, get to know your new pet my son." Lucius stated to his heir before following I'mam into the sea of brightly coloured tents, leaving Draco to glance over at the rather indignant looking youth.

There was a pause before the youth spoke in a strange liquid tongue Draco had never heard before, "(30 Galleons? I should be insulted.)" the black haired male sighed crossing his ankles with a bored expression. Draco stared, before stalking forward toward his new plaything.

"On your feet Mud-Blood." He sneered, the youth's alluring green eyes cracked open and a smirk once again stole over the Asling's lips.

An eyebrow arched in confusion before a small chuckle bubbled from Raven's lips as he pushed himself up into a sitting position to look at the Malfoy heir languidly, something about his green eyes reminding him of a predator.

Draco sneered, "I said, 'on your feet'. Don't make me repeat myself." He snapped, the youth looked at him intently, assessing him weighing his options and sizing him up. Draco kept his face a mask of cold distain as the black haired youth's smirk turned flirtatious,

Chuckling and getting to his feet, brushing sand from his body, The youth muttered something alien as he stalked forward, circling Draco in a distinctly predatory fashion, "(Hmm, bit pale for my tastes but I'll bet my potions kit you have a nice ass under that dress.)" He teased passing behind the blond, a hand snaking out and striking the offending rear-end, prompting Draco to yelp and spin around to punch him. How dare that Mud-blood trash touch him!

The youth grabbed the on-coming hand at the wrist and looked at the shell shocked blond, a smirk tracing his lips, "(Careful little Serpent.)" He teased in a husky voice, placing a feather-light kiss on his wrist, right over the veins that traced delicately under the skin, a flick of a pink tongue causing the blond to shiver as a breeze ran over the wet flesh, he said something in that same alien language before stepping forward tongue flicking over the taller blond's ear before he moved back and dropped the wrist to flop down to the floor one hand over his eyes and laugh.

Draco coloured, his cheeks brilliantly pink with humiliation, embarrassment and something else until he heard his father and I'mam return from the Arab's tent. Taking a deep breath and pushing aside his emotions with Occlumency Draco straightened himself and watched them approach as the black haired youth did so from under his out-stretched hand.

"I am curious to see his abilities." Lucius purred as he handed Draco a worn, but well made cloak of coal-grey. It obviously belonged to the youth judging by the size and unique smell of it.

"Of course." I'mam demurred before turning to the boy and kicking sand at him, barking something out in Arabic. The youth laughed and sat up, replying with a perfect accent in the same tongue as he held his wrists out, innocence practically oozing from him. Draco stiffened as the Arab nodded, producing the key to both manacles, not noticing the way those green eyes latched onto them and followed their process with cold, calculating certainty as the Arab unlocked one manacle, and then the next.

Draco had never seen anyone move so fast in his life.

Aspling (for he had not given them his name,) exploded into action, Magic sang around him like a heat-haze as he dove for I'mam who was desperately throwing curses at the youth, who dodged them. I'mam never stood a chance; he fell to the ground, his neck snapped cleanly before the Malfoys' got over their shock enough to throw their own curses at the lithe male who twisted out of their way in a disgustingly serpentine fashion.

Raven threw out his telepathic broad-cast to the Fae and his parents before turning to the rest of the slaves and smashing their manacles using I'mam's stolen wand, "(What are you looking at me for idiots! RUN!)" He snapped as the slave began to stampede away.

The youth turned to the two Europeans only to be struck from behind by an Arab with a crucio, he dropped to his hands and knees; teeth gritted, and refused to scream. It wasn't long before both Draco and Lucius were joining in, looking to either kill him or subdue him, Aspling wilted under the combined forces of the three separate crucios, finally allowing a strangled whine to escape clenched teeth as he spared his concentration to scream out a telepathic distress signal to his mother before he slumped forward. Unconscious.

"-should you get this wrong your soul will be taken as penance, you won't be seeing it again. So I don't think I should warn you that to try this particular ritual without supervision would be an incredibly stupid i...dea..." Selene trailed off her eyes going distant as she froze in the middle of her second Year Necromancy class, her skin going an even paler shade than usual.

"Professor?" queried one of the Centaur students from where she was knelt on the floor, Selene didn't move,

"Class dismissed..." she said distantly before leaving the room at a dead sprint, her students looking at each other in confusion,

"Think one of the Spirits Beyond contacted her? I heard one of the older Vampires talking about it, usually happens at least twice a year." One of the Fae students suggested as he gathered up his materials. A werewolf sneered,

"No, when a spirit contacts her you'll sense it too; you have been in this class for a year already. If a Lost Soul suddenly started screaming through the room you'd damn well hear it." She stated fingering the twin pistols at her hips, Professor Greyback had declared her classroom and her corridor a strictly NO KILLING ZONE anyone caught breaking that rule usually ended up as a subject demonstration in her Soul Removal class for the third-year students. Didn't stop the werewolf desperately wishing to shoot the idiot in the back of the head.

"It was her son." One of the Elementalists sighed, his voice soft as the wind he controlled, every eye swivelled onto him. "He has been on an Assassination mission, it was successful but there are only so many crucios the human body can take before shutting down."

The class exploded into uproar.

A vampire glanced to his mortal next-door-neighbour; they'd been part of the same camp during their Entrance exam and had remained friends since.

"You realise both Greyback Profs are going to be unbearable now?" the Vampire pointed out, his mortal friend grimaced,

"I'm more concerned about what Proffy Thomason'll do when he finds out. Wouldn't want to be a first year." He muttered, "Poor bastards."

It was a well known fact of most Heinlin students, those who were freshly accepted into the Necromancy and Battle Magics classes were usually arrogant little pricks that got on the Professor's nerves. And since the only other Professors capable of teaching Battle Magic and Necromancy were busy with their own teaching electives, neither Selene nor Ixion could take time off to get their tempers under control. As for Professor Thomason, Ryuu and Raven were as thick as thieves and the closest thing they each had to a brother, Ryuu had the most violent temper of all the professors and the power and skill to back it up.

Needless to say the population of First Year students dramatically dipped over the next two weeks.

And thus the end of the first chapter.

I added the last part about Heinlin to highlight the kind of environment that Harry grew up in; he is far from the shy, golden boy he is in the canon. As for Selene and Ixion creating merry bloody hell with the students, there's no rules in Heinlin protecting the stupid from their professors and they're going to be very short tempered. As for Ryuu? He's just naturally a little shit and he teaches some of the more dangerous magics at the Academy, he's Selene's nephew and Raven's cousin.

As you've no doubt noticed, Ixion is in fact Fenrir Greyback's younger brother. (Cookies for anyone who can catch the FFX hint in my choice of name. XDD.) Ixion was the first person that Fenrir bit, Fenrir is a good 6-10 years older than Ixion, I never really calculated it correctly. Anyhow, since Ixion got the bite from someone he loved, he accepted the curse and the lycan part of his mind, seeing it as a gift. As such, he had a much better control over his inner beast compared to his brother. However, shortly after his mother found out she smuggled them both to India (her and Ixion, leaving Fenrir with his abusive father.) where Ixion found out about Heinlin and decided to attend. When the war broke out a good few years later, Ixion found out his brother was taking part he returned to England to try and talk him back into neutrality, and since he was going into a war zone Selene whom he was newly wedded to not even a year before leaving refused to let him go alone. So he, Selene and Miho went to England. Unfortunately, Fenrir reacted badly to his little brother, hell, Ixion had accepted the curse and still managed to find himself a Life mate, he was still sane while Fenrir had lost everything. Fenrir attacked Selene and tore most of her internal organs out, Miho managed to save her life with a few specialised potions and a flood of healing charms but Selene couldn't ever have children.

So you can see why they'd be frothing at the mouth to protect the one they have. XDD hope that explained a little about the Greyback Family.

As for Raven being an incorrigible flirt: He grew up around Vampires, what do you expect from a species interested in only blood and sex? And the Veela didn't help much. (No worries, he's still innocent. XDD shocking isn't it?)

Review pleasums!

Araceil