Disclaimer::JK owns the world.. I just like playing in it.
Summary::The heir to the throne is stolen as a baby, but no trace of the prince was ever found. Years passed, and the king gradually lost hope. Then one day...
Warnings:: None yet. Done for Thematichp LJ community. Will it be slash...Hello?? OTP is snarry.. this is set post Goblet of Fire, which means Sirius is still alive. Where is it going? No idea.
Betaed by Morganlefay1958 and Lilyseyes
A tall dark man stands atop the ancient battlements of the large castle, looking out into a storm-raged sea as it bombarded the cliffs below him. His rage and anger were only more fuel to the storm.
He is Thaddeus Raghnall MacLochlainn, and he is King of the magical people on the Island called DragonWolfe off the coast of the Isle of Man.
His Kingdom had stood the test of time fighting back Romans, Saxons and Vikings, then those Nazis who could find the island during the Muggle World War II. But for the past 15 years, he was loosing a battle with himself. A battle for hope that his son would be found.
It all happened in 1980, right before the festival of Lughnasadh, as the month of July ended. His queen and beloved, had given birth to a beautiful baby boy, but as she had been frail and sickly all her life, the labor and birth had taken too much from her. He had held her as she expelled the babe from her body, whispering words of love and encouragement to her as he kissed her hair.
His beautiful Marian had stopped breathing, as their son's first cry was heard, and he was pushed out of the way in the rush to save her life. No one had noticed on of the junior Healers who had helped in the delivery, slip out with the babe, during the commotion.
Marian had died without seeing or holding her child... and the babe had never been seen again.
They knew the babe lived, because his life-force still showed on the tapestry that displayed the family lineage. He was unnamed but alive. Unnamed by his sire, but instead, by whomever had him now.
King Thaddeus dreaded days when he thought of his boy, his son and heir, growing up without him, without true family. Sometimes his chest grew tight and he instinctively knew... the child was not loved, but instead mistreated and was in pain; very deep pain--both emotional and physical. He vowed he would find his son, and bring him home.
When they found the junior Healer, he was a babbling mess. The royal Healers examined him, and it was discovered he'd been 'Imperio'd' and subjected to a careless 'Obliviate', that had left his mind destroyed. He didn't know who he was, much less who he'd been working for. The young man had to be confined, under constant care, for the remainder of his life. His mind would never be restored. It was such a waste.
His advisers were constantly counselling him that he needed to remarry and have an heir or the throne would go to his brother, Prince Dagen. His brother was a known dark supporter, and needed to be kept as far from the throne as possible. He knew as King it was his duty to protect his people anyway he could.
His only ray of hope lay on his son's upcoming birthday. For all descendants of MacLochlainn Clan, on their fifteenth birthday, a rune would appear on their left inner wrist. The Rune of DragonWolfe, a sign of his heritage and right to the throne of the Kingdom of DragonWolfe. By this, he could be identified. It would be their only hope.
What he didn't know at this moment, across the ocean the death of one lone Goblin would set things into motion as lives were about to be changed. A child once thought lost forever would be found in the most unlikely of places.
The game was set. The players were moving. The grand master was about to loose complete control of his pawns one by one.
Miltock, the goblin who had overseen the Potter accounts since the deaths of Lily and James had died sometime during the night hours. Griphook was given the task of going through the papers and accounts to make sure they were all in order before they could be transferred to a new Goblin.
What the meticulous Goblin found was horrifying. He tsk'd and mumbled in anger as he continued reading throughout the night. Unread wills and notes the older one had kept of meetings with Albus Dumbledore, money stolen and used for funding the school and a group called The Order of the Phoenix, and other money that had been diverted to the Dumbledore personal accounts. A large sum was also being deposited in a muggle bank account in London, under Vernon Dursley. Griphook also held the proof that Lord Sirius Black was innocent of betraying the Potter's. The truth had been buried, ruining an innocent man's life.
He also found timespelled letters from Lily Evans Potter that were never allowed to be delivered to their intended recipients.
Griphook's growled most of the night and his anger built, as he uncovered one wrong after another. By morning, he was enraged. He requested a meeting with the Clan Leader and Head Goblin of Gringotts, Ragnock. Things were about to change and veils would come crashing down when the news of what Albus Dumbledore had done was revealed.
Hours later five large owls were making their way towards five wizards and witches; as it should have had happened all those years ago.
Arthur Weasley was sitting at his desk in the British Ministry of Magic. He had just sat down with a nice cup of tea when the owl, bearing the mark of Gringott's, landed on his desk .
"What do you have for me, Sir?" Arthur asked as he relieved the bird of his envelope. Breaking the seal, he began to read, His eyes widening and his face going ashen.
To Arthur Weasley,
We of Gringotts summon you to the reading of the last will and testaments of Lily Evans Potter and James Aaron Potter. The reading will take place today, at 2pm.
This document has been spelled with confidentiality charms so you may not speak of it's contents with anyone until the time of the reading.
Please arrived promptly, as the reading will begin without delay.
May gold flow in your home.
Gringott's Bank of England
Diagon Alley Office
Similar letters were being opened across Britain by others and the same shock was felt by all.
In the smallest bedroom at Number Four Privet Drive, a boy was waking from nightmares of rising Dark Lords, death and torture. His nightmares, though, had become reality. Harry had learned early in the summer that he was somehow seeing everything that Tom Riddle did in his meetings. He had tried writing to the Headmaster, but the only reply he had gotten was it was too dangerous for him to be writing his friends.
Dumbledore had kept Hedwig.
So that set the tone for the rest of his summer. No letters or news from his friends or the Wizarding World.
He was isolated from everyone. Locked away in this tiny bare room where no one would find him. Unless your name was Vernon Dursley. Harry's screams had awakened his Uncle again, during the night, as the nightmares and visions had gotten worse. But the resulting beating was almost too much to bear at the moment. Now, he was having problems breathing.
He most likely had a couple of cracked or broken ribs. His left eye was swollen shut and he could still feel the blood oozing from the wound on the back of his head.
The blood wards were there to protect him from Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters, not from his family. If the three other people in the house could loosely be called family. They certainly went out of their way to make him feel that he wasn't part of their family. He was told his destiny was to save the Wizarding World from Tom Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, as he had renamed himself. But who would save Harry from the constant threat he lived with? A threat that had gotten increasingly worse over the years.
Harry needed a miracle or if things continued as they have been, he knew he wouldn't the survive the summer.
Then there would no one to save them from Voldemort.
One by one, those that had been summoned, arrived in Ragnock's office. Arthur Weasley had come after telling the Ministry he was called away on urgent business at Gringott's.
Remus Lupin arrived shortly thereafter with a large black dog by his side.
Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomphrey arrived just in time to be escorted to an elaborate office, where the others awaited, with Griphook and Ragnock. Two hours later, Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley were seen running, the black dog at their heels, to the nearest apparition point and disappearing.
Albus Dumbledore was sitting in his office going over reports with Mad-Eye Moody when a glass globe on his desk exploded. Both men had just erected personal shields in time to keep from being hurt.
The old man's next words were, "Damnit, the wards have fallen at Privet Drive!"
As Dumbledore stood, his phoenix landed on his shoulder. Moody sent a 'Patronus' and summoned Aurors that were only loyal to him and Dumbledore to meet them in Little Whinging. Dumbledore put his hand firmly on Moody's shoulder, and the three of them disappeared in a burst of light.
They reappeared only moments later on Privet Drive. The whole neighborhood was dark. All the street lights were out. No lights could be seen from the surrounding houses. No sound could be heard. No wind to move the leaves in the trees. It seemed all were asleep and things were as they should be.
Moody pulled on Albus' robes and they walked quickly up the walk to the house at Number Four. The door swung open before they could knock. Both men pulled their wands and slipped into the quiet house. Behind them they could hear the quiet pops of the Aurors apparating in around the house. Moody climbed the stairs towards the room that housed Potter and Dumbledore made his way throughout the rest of the downstairs.
He stopped in the lounge only to find the occupants of Number Four tied together with a rather large black bow that shimmered green. Just as Dumbledore reached out to read the attached tag, he could hear sirens in the distance.
"Albus! Potter is gone. All of his things are missing as well. And the bed is covered in blood," Moody said as he strode quickly to Dumbledore's side.
Dumbledore flicked his wand and the gag covering Vernon Dursley's mouth moved. "What has happen? Where is the boy?"
"Three men came wearing dark clothing. Their faces were covered. Woke us up and took the freak!"
"Where did the blood come from, Muggle?"
Vernon stared back. He would not bow down to these freaks!
Dumbledore growled as he pointed his wand between the corpulent Muggle's eyes. "Tell me."
"He's been waking us all up at all hours of the night with his screams. I'll be damned if he wakes the neighbors with his wailing!"
"I instructed you to keep him in line and subdued! Not try to murder him!" Dumbledore hissed, his eyes icy and his fury barely contained.
One of the senior Aurors appeared behind Moody and whispered in his ear. Moody growled something back and motioned to the man. He seemed to understand and disappeared quickly, followed by almost a dozen quiet pops.
"They found no signs of magic Albus. I don't like this. I don't like this at all!"
"Meet me back in my office. I shall be there shortly. I have something here I must take care of first."
Moody nodded, glared at Vernon Dursley and disappeared with a pop, leaving the Headmaster alone with the Dursley's. The Headmaster paced back and forth in front of the bound Muggles, stroking his beard as he thought. Stopping and looking out the window, he waved his hand and cast a spell to keep everyone away from the house. Then he waved his hand several times causing the street lamps to relight themselves. The approaching sirens neared the house then disappeared again in the distance.
He turned and stared at the frightened Muggles for a moment before 'Summoning' the tag he was reaching for earlier. Stuffing it in a pocket of his robes, he pointed his finger at the Dursley's, 'Banishing' the bows and 'Levitating' the Muggles to the sofa. The easy use of wandless magic had made all three occupants of the lurid floral sofa go pale with fear, and Vernon's evident anger had finally been squelched.
"Now, listen very closely muggles. When we... and we will find Mr. Potter and bring him back. This time don't try to kill him! Because if he dies then your lives are forfeit because you will be worthless to me!" The old man left in a swirl of purple robes and bright light.