Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: Slash: male homosexual relationships, graphic violence, torture, sexual situations, adult language, morbid-ness, and mentions of child abuse. Boy!Blaise

A/N: This is AU seventh-year. Dumbledore is still alive. Voldemort came back at the end of fifth-year, using Slytherin’s Locket. He has spent the last year gaining followers and searching for Harry Potter.

Pairings: Blaise/Harry, Draco/Neville, and Severus/Luna

Onyx Snow

Prologue

Assassin Handbook: Every assassin is born with a heritage birthmark.

Albus Dumbledore placed the infant on the doorstep of the Muggles’ house and set a letter next to the sleeping baby. He turned around and left with Minerva McGonagall, abandoning the savior of the wizarding world to a family of Muggles. They Apparated away, thinking Harry Potter should grow up away from the wizarding world, keeping him from becoming an arrogant selfish child. It was for the best really. Harry needed to understand that Muggles needed to be protected. They were as important to the world as wizards were.

Dumbledore didn’t know there was a storm that night, with winds so fierce that the letter was blown away, nor could he have guessed what Vernon Dursley’s reaction to having an infant dumped on his doorstep would be. If they had known, they would have taken Harry Potter anywhere else, but they didn’t know, and so they had no way of knowing that they wouldn’t see Harry Potter again for a great many years.

Vernon Dursley opened his front door early one morning, planning to get the paper. When he looked down, he saw a small infant wrapped in blankets on his doorstep. In shock, the beefy man lifted the small child and took in the ebony hair and sleeping face. He glanced around and didn’t see a note of any kind; the child had been abandoned. Now Vernon Dursley was by no means, a nice man, but he wasn’t a hateful bastard either, so he brought the baby into his home thinking to keep him for the morning until the child could be taken to an orphanage.

He took the child into the nursery that his own infant son was in and unwrapped the infant from the blanket. He began undoing the fastenings on the baby’s sleeper to see if the infant needed his nappy changed, when the child’s eyes opened and burned into him with green fire. The pale babe squirmed, twisting over onto his stomach revealing the skin of his back and the black birthmark on it. A circle of ancient runes.

Vernon Dursley immediately jerked his hands away from the child. He had seen that same mark before, and the person who had it had warned him that he was never to touch the skin of anyone who had that mark, to do so would mean his death. He glanced at the cot the baby was on, ensuring the child wouldn’t be able to get out of it as he fled the room and hurried to the nearest telephone. Vernon removed a blank business card from a drawer, and flipped it over to reveal a number in black ink. He set the card on the table holding the phone and dialed the numbers.

A cold voice answered after the second ring. “Name?”

“This is Vernon Dursley.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Dursley? Are you in need of another loan?” the freezing voice questioned.

Vernon Dursley shook slightly; he didn’t even want to think of borrowing money from this man again. People died when they didn’t pay their loans back on time. “No sir, I don’t need a loan.”

“Then what are you calling for, Dursley?” the voice hissed.

“A child was left on my doorstep sometime during the night. I found him this morning when I went…”

“And you called to tell me this?” the voice growled, interrupting the explanation.

Vernon Dursley’s gulp was audible to the man on the other end of the phone. “He has a mark just like your men do.” He held his breath at the silence that came over the line.

“Are you sure, Dursley? Because if you’re wrong…”

“I’m sure. I swear it, sir. It’s the same circle of weird shapes, the only difference is the shape in the center of the others is different,” Vernon hurriedly told the man.

The silence lasted longer this time. The man was wondering who the child could be. As far as he knew no one was missing, but he certainly couldn’t leave such a thing to chance. “I will be there shortly, Dursley. You are not to touch him. Do you understand?” the quiet voice threatened.

“Yes sir!” As soon as he answered, the call was cut off.

A little over forty minutes later Vernon Dursley heard a knock on his front door and opened it. His guest was a little over six feet tall. He had pale skin, black hair that fell to his waist in a braid, and hard silver eyes. The man reeked of power, strength, and wealth. He silently followed Dursley up the stairs to the nursery on the second floor; he entered behind the large man and followed the gesturing hand to the cot in the corner.

The dark figure walked to the cot and picked up the child, gazing briefly into the assessing emerald orbs. The child didn’t make a sound as he was carefully inspected. The man turned him around in his hands and gazed at the birthmark declaring the child to be one of them and of Evans Lineage. Lily’s child. The man absorbed the information quickly, as he always did, and wrapped the child up carefully, holding him close.

He turned to Vernon Dursley and spoke with an expressionless face, “You did the right thing by calling me, Dursley. I’m pleased.” He tuned out the mutterings of the large man and walked behind him whispering, “Obliviate.” He left the Muggle house that such a precious bundle had been left in with a slight sneer on his face.

At the end of the drive, a uniformed man stepped from the front seat of the car and hurried to open the door for the man holding the child. “My Lord.” The man bowed, closing the door after his superior had slid inside.

As the car pulled away from the curb, the man in the back seat was having a staring contest with the infant. They were assessing each other carefully. The man smiled down at the precocious boy and smirked. “Not many have the courage to look me in the eye, little one. You will do. You will do very well.” He placed his hand on the babe’s brow and stated, “Harry James Potter, I claim you as my heir.”