The Black Twins
Albus's plan failed, the war was lost. But his forgotten brother, Aberforth, has a plan too, a plan 'B', a plan that no normal person would even imagine, much less put into action. Then again; Aberforth has never really been normal. His plan, however, had consequences not even he could imagine, and it slipped and twisted from his grasp, laughing wildly as it dove into the realms of chaos. Ladies and gentlemen, hold onto your broomsticks, the Black twins are coming to Hogwarts. MWPP era.
For the purposes of this story Dorea and Charlus Potter died in 1961, Mm-kay?
I do not own Harry Potter.
More info on the story at the bottom of this chapter, but you have to read it first :)
Aberforth's shoulders slumped in defeat; he sat in the Hog's head in front of the dying fire with a glass of the strongest beverage he owned. Dragon Spit, the drink was called, and it was no wonder, Aberforth would spit it out too if he was thinking clearly. But he wasn't, instead he was sitting slumped with one hand covering his face, just as the sun began to peak over the horizon.
The battle was over, and the Boy-Who-Lived was no more. His famous brother's master plan had failed… and Hogwarts had fallen. It wouldn't be long now before they came to Hogsmeade too, the Death Eaters would probably burn his lovely pub to the ground. Either that or Aberforth himself would, there was no way he'd let Death Eaters into his pub.
Aberforth sighed sadly and leaned back, gazing up at the dimly lit ceiling. He was and old man now, over a hundred years old. He thought he'd seen all the evil in this world, apparently not… that poor child. He'd had such an unhappy life, such an unfair life… he hadn't deserved it… to have everything taken from him like that. He should have had a happy life, one with his family, should have been carefree like his father. His father…
Ahh… Aberforth still remembered the first time James Potter and his friends came to the Hog's Head. It had taken him ages to get rid of those sunflowers… James had though the pub needed brightening up. James Potter, now he had had a good life. He had loving parents who spoiled him rotten, he was a pure-blood, he was rich, he was smart and popular, and he'd great friends… well apart from that murdering, traitor Black. Harry's own godfather betraying his best friend to the Dark Lord, it was horrendous, but it was life. And wishing it would change wouldn't do any good… huh, good…. like there was any good left in the world… With Harry Potter's death the war will most certainly go downhill from here, the Order's likely to be disbanded by now… maybe I should move to Australia…
Aberforth raised the glass once more to his mouth, and took a long deep swig, before closing his eyes. If only he could change it, could somehow give Harry a better life, one like his father's… Aberforth snorted grimly, the only way that would happen was if Harry somehow became James's brother…
Aberforth's eyes snapped open and he stared unseeing at the glowing coals in the fireplace, his mind whirling. Remembering, recalling an amulet locked away in his Gringotts vault. A special, magical amulet that would allow him to–
Aberforth shut off that train of thought. No he couldn't, it's against the law. The rules have time travel clearly state that you are not allowed to meddle, and that would definitely be meddling…
Aberforth stared down at his now empty glass… perhaps the drink was getting to him… but he'd never really been one to play by the rules.
Aberforth stood in front of the long mirror in his rented room at the Leaky Cauldron. He was wearing his black travelling cloak and robes, with his wooden and knobbly walking stick in one hand, and a glowing amber amulet in the other. It had taken a while to get the Amulet of Time from the Gringotts Wizarding Bank, something about a dragon escaping…
Now that he was here, ready to leave, he wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. It wasn't too late to go to Australia, maybe he should just back out now while he was still able. It wasn't as if this was any of his business, he wasn't responsible, it wasn't his fault the world was doomed…But if I have a chance to change the fate of the world, and I don't take it, it would make it my fault. Aberforth groaned in indecision, this wasn't his kind of thing; he usually left all the crazed, manipulative meddling to Albus.
Aberforth growled as he glared at the amulet, he ground his teeth, and clenched his fist tightly around his trusty stick. Setting his jaw determinedly, he raised the Amulet of Time up.
"1981," he said clearly, if slightly melodramatically, well it was changing the fate of the world. Aberforth turned the amulet over once in his hand, it began to glow, bathing the room in amber light.
"November," the amulet shone brighter, and grew warm in his hand as he turned it a second time. Aberforth could feel the power radiating off it.
"The first," a third turn and the Amulet of Time emitted the brightest light yet, the amber magic surrounded Aberforth, consuming him. Light spilled out of the small window, and lit up the crack under the door, it grew so bright it was impossible to look at. Then, all of a sudden it was gone, collapsing in on its self and disappearing, taking the hundred year old man with it.
When the light faded, air burst through into Aberforth's lungs, and he bent over gasping for breath. Merlin, I thought it would never end, standing up straight, and using the walking stick for support Aberforth took stock of his surroundings. He was in the same room of the Leaky Cauldron in front of the mirror, but it looked different somehow.
"Whoa! Where'd you spring from, eh?" his reflection wheezed peering out from the mirror, and blinking in amazement. Aberforth ignored it, hurriedly putting the amulet away in his pocket. Grasping his stick firmly, he limped over to the door and exited the room. As soon as Aberforth was out in the hallway the sounds of celebration reached his ears; that was a good sign. Thumping down the stairs he reached the main room, where a large group of brightly robed wizards were drinking around the bar, even though it looked to be only 10:00 am.
The noise in the pub was inconceivable, there were people Flooing in and out, owls flying back and forth, and everywhere people were talking excitedly, over the top of one another, as each witch or wizard tried to make themselves heard. Aberforth scowled at the crowd, he would never let his pub be treated in this way. Pushing his way through the crowd, sometimes using his stick to make people move, he made his way to the bar. A stack of newspapers were piled on one side, and Aberforth shoved past a laughing wizard, who was perhaps just a bit drunk, and reached for a Daily Prophet.
One look gave him all the answers he needed, it read;
1st of November, 1981.
YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED! HARRY POTTER, BOY-WHO-LIVED!
Aberforth grunted and folded the paper back up, his eyes unfocused–
"Gahh! Whatth–?!" Aberforth jumped back in surprise, using the Prophet to angrily bat away a confused owl that had whacked him in the face. It flew off again over the noisy crowd, hooting in indignation. Aberforth scowled after it, and began to once more push his way through the crowd, muttering under his breath.
"Stupid owl… probably drunk too…MOVE IT YOU LUNATIC! ...Ruddy birds… never liked them…"
Aberforth brooded in his room for the rest of the day. There was no point in going to Little Whinging yet, Harry wouldn't arrive there until that evening, and Aberforth would be damned if he was going to sit there all day like a bloody cat. So he waited in the comfort of his room, away from the insanity of the Wizarding World.
He wasn't just rushing this; he did have a proper plan. So while he waited in his room Aberforth pooled together all his knowledge of the Potter family, and wrote a letter that would explain everything, this letter Aberforth intended to leave with the boy. He was sorry that the Potter seniors had had to die again, but Harry still needed to be the Boy-Who-Lived. Besides, if my plan works it won't matter, will it?
Speaking of his plan it was time to put it into action. Groaning he got up from his comfy armchair, listening as his bones cracked. Taking up his knobbly walking stick again, and making sure he had both the amulet and the letter safely in his pocket, Aberforth once again hobbled out of the room.
Much to his displeasure he had to take the Knight Bus to Little Whinging, because he'd never been there before and was therefore unable to Apparate. The bus dropped him off at a nearby park, and Aberforth gladly exited.
"Maniacs like you shouldn't be allowed on the roads," he grumbled, more to himself then to the driver. The purple door slid shut behind him, and the three-decker bus shot off with a bang.
Aberforth huffed and drew his cloak closer around him, his breath coming out as fog. Changing his grip on his walking stick he set off from the park towards Privet Drive, trudging across the cold ground. Bloody Merlin, it's about cold enough to start snowing.
A rumbling noise distracted Aberforth, getting closer by the second. For a moment he thought it was a muggle car, but then realised the sound was coming from above. He looked up in time to see a Flying Motorbike go overhead, with the Half-giant Hogwarts Groundskeeper riding it. Blowing out the cold air again, Aberforth continued in the direction the bike flew.
Eventually he reached the right street. He knew it was the right one because all the light suddenly returned to it. Also the newly lit signpost said so. The Flying Motorbike passed overhead again, this time heading back in the opposite direction, and Aberforth heard the distinct sounds of Apparition as his brother and Minerva McGonagall left. Privet Drive returned to normal, a lonely dog howled in the distance, and an insect of some sort chirped in a nearby bush.
Aberforth gave a hacking cough, seeming to remind the street that it wasn't back to normal yet; and clearing his throat before continuing down the street. The cold night air was starting to sink into his bones, despite the thick black cloak.
"Useless, cheap garment…should've stayed in bed…always hated Mondays…" he grumbled as he tramped down the paved path. Stopping a short way down at Number Four, his gaze instantly settled on the small bundle on the doorstep. Harry Potter.
It's not too late to turn back yet, maybe I should just walk away, who am I to meddle with fate anyway?
Aberforth frowned at these thoughts, he was not going to chicken out now, "Come too far for that," he cleared his throat again noisily and opened the little side gate. Stubbornly hobbling towards the small bundle on the doorstep, Aberforth peered down at the recent saviour of the Wizarding World. The boy was asleep, but the lightning bolt scar on his forehead stood out clearly. Albus's letter to the Dursleys was tucked under the blue blanket.
Aberforth breathed in and out reassuring himself that this was the right thing to do. But he couldn't help the horrible feeling he had in the pit of his stomach, that twinge of doubt in the back of his mind. But still he brought his wand out, tapping his walking stick lightly. It vibrated in his hand for a moment, before shrinking down small enough to put in his pocket along with his wand. Then with a groan Aberforth bent down laboriously, and picked up the bundle that was the Boy-Who-Lived. He stared at the baby for a moment, yes Harry did deserve a better life and Aberforth was going to give it to him.
Aberforth took hold of his brother's letter and discarded it, unceremoniously throwing it aside, the letter fluttered down and landed in one of the Hydrangeas. Aberforth then replaced it with his own letter, tucking it securely next to Harry. He pulled out the Amulet of Time once more, holding Harry in one arm. Before he lost his nerve, he began.
"1961," turning the amulet over in his hand and the amber light began to shine once more.
How was Aberforth to know that the amulet was only supposed to transport one person at a time? That it wouldn't have enough power to properly transport both of them? That the Amulet of Time would overheat burning his hand, as it tried to use more power then it had. And that consequently, in Aberforth's surprise, his grip would loosen on young Harry, and the amber light would whisk the boy away from his grasp and into the unknown? How was he to know that everything would go so wrong, before it had barely started?
Aberforth bent over with pain and gasped for breath, it felt like his entire body was on fire. Then his mind caught up with the shock and he realised what had happened, what he'd done! No! NonononononoNO! Stupid! How could I be so stupid, so idiotic, useless, pathetic, so BLOODY STUDIP! I'm a foolish bumbling excuse for an old man, why did I ever think it would work?
He began to feel choked up with the horror of it, I've lost the Boy-Who-Lived, Merlin I've probably flipping killed the poor thing! Is he still alive; is he even in this blooming time period? I don't know! I have no idea! WHY DIDN'T IT WORK? His thoughts were becoming jumbled as panic set into his being. He clenched his hand in anger and something hard and sharp stabbed him, Aberforth looked down in surprise at his shaking, wrinkled hands, a trail of blood was leaking down one side. He opened it slowly to reveal the Amulet of Time, now shattered and useless, a shard of amber wedged in his hand. As Aberforth stared down at it, he could feel in his eyes becoming wet. Why? I try to do one good thing, and look what happens, useless piece of junk. Despairingly Aberforth let it fall onto the long dark grass he was standing on.
It was then he looked around his surroundings properly. Privet Drive was gone, Aberforth suspected it hadn't been built yet, but there were the beginnings of buildings not far from here. He was currently standing on an empty lot, and there was no sign of baby Harry anywhere.
The Amulet of Time is a mysterious and ancient artefact, so ancient that its true name had been shortened and forgotten, in actuality it was the Amulet of Time and Space. Capable of travelling the space between one time and another, but space, can also be another name for distance. If at any time during transit, the holder lets go of the amulet, they can be whisked off on a tangent to anywhere in time and space. Depending on how soon they let go determines the distance of the detour, from their intended time and destination. From example, Aberforth let go of Harry near the end of the journey, when the amulet burned his hand while overloading. Harry was whipped away on a tangent, and landed a few fair miles away, and a couple of days after Aberforth.
Where he did land, was complete chance. Fate. Pure luck, though which kind of luck is still being debated. But just because it wasn't likely, didn't mean it couldn't happen, it was improbable, not impossible.
Orion Black frowned heavily as he gazed out the window, ignoring his wife who was ranting.
"Walburga," he said sharply, still looking out the window but effectively halting her tirade. He stood silently again waiting till he had her full attention.
"What?" Walburga Black spat, annoyed at being interrupted.
"Why is there a baby in the middle of the street?" he asked slowly. It was probably the last thing she expected him to say.
Abruptly Orion turned on his heel way from the window and strode out of the dining room, his wife hurrying after him through the entry hall and out the front door. It was rare that the Blacks ever went out onto the street, too many Muggles and commoners for that. But the pair had just had another child a few months ago, so 'parental instincts' were still high in their systems….or maybe they just felt it was their right to know what was going on.
And indeed, it was a child, about the same age as my first-born son, Orion realised when he reached the small bundle crying in the middle of the road. He regarded the baby, the only emotion on his face was a slight frown in his heavy eyebrows, but his curiosity was piked when he spotted a letter, tucked in next to the boy. Walburga appeared next to him, nostrils flared as she observed the little bundle with obvious distaste.
Making a decision Orion bent over to take the letter, leaving the baby squalling on the ground. It had no address or name on it, so he turned it over and ripped it open. Unfolding the parchment he began to read, his frown growing more pronounced by the second. Walburga sneered at the babe, probably a filthy Muggle; she was tempted to kick the darn thing just to make it shut up. They should just turn around, go back inside now and leave it here to die.
"Horrible, disgusting, filth!" she muttered darkly.
"He's not a Muggle," Orion rumbled looking as if in deep thought, "He's a pure-blood, actually."
Instantly Walburga's demeanour changed and her jaw dropped in indignation. What! Who in their right mind would leave this poor baby in the middle of a street, to perish in a neighbourhood of Muggles?!
"And a descended of a Black, if I'm not mistaken,"
"W-WHAT!" Walburga choked, unable to believe it.
"Dorea is your aunt, is she not?" Walburga nodded dumbly, "Well she married Charlus Potter, and it seems that this," Orion gestured to the babe, "Is her son. And your cousin," he added as an afterthought.
Walburga stared at her husband for a moment in pure outrage, before swooping down and scooping the bundle up in her arms defiantly. Orion said nothing but instead looked back at the letter.
Eventually he continued, "It seems that this letter was meant for Harold Potter, you know Charlus's brother? I know that Dorea and Charlus died six months ago, but I wasn't aware that they'd had a son."
"It was a mistake for her to marry a Potter in the first place!"
"Yes, you've said,"
"Then she had to go and get herself killed!"
"Hmm," Orion gritted his teeth as his wife began to grind on his nerves once again.
"She didn't even have the decency to tell us she'd had a child! Disgraceful!"
"Why on earth is the boy even here?"
"I don't have all the answers Walburga!" Orion snapped, finally losing his patience with her, "But the letter says he was meant to go live with the Potters!"
Walburga paled visibly and said in a horrified whisper, "Those blood-traitors? Never! Mother would turn in her grave!"
"Exactly!" they fell into a brooding silence
"Hmm," Orion grimaced in thought, his brow was furrowed. Walburga glanced at her husband, knowing that he was thinking about something important.
"I doubt many people know about Dorea and Charlus having a son," he started, speaking so lowly Walburga had to lean in to hear him, "And with most of the family abroad still, not many people know about Sirius either…"
Now Walburga was confused, "What are you getting at?"
Orion turned to Walburga, a strange, intense look in his dark eyes, "We could take him in, and no one would be the wiser," The wheels were turning in his mind as he thought over his plan, and he cut Walburga off before she could object, "Sirius is about his age, we could pretend they're twins. And if anyone did guess the truth, we could just say we adopted him, and tell the person to keep quiet about it. Or better yet Obliviate them." He stared at his wife again, daring her to find a problem, to object.
Walburga hesitated, pursing her lips. She could see the determination in Orion's eyes, and knew nothing she said would change his mind. Besides… it wasn't a bad idea…
"What's his name?" she asked suddenly, looking down at the now sleeping child. A fresh-looking scar was shining on his forehead, Walburga wondered how he got it, it looked like a curse scar of a sort.
"Harry." Orion said, his voice deep as he also looked down at the boy, "Harry Potter."
Walburga huffed, awfully common sounding name, but still…
"No, it's Harry Black." she haughtily corrected him.
Here's some more information on the story, as I always like to know if it's going to be something worth reading or not.
The Black Twins will be Harry growing up in this era as Sirius's twin.
It will be a long story. Pre-Hogwarts, Hogwarts years 1-7, and Post Hogwarts
Rated M for violence, language, sexual references (But not until they're older, duh)
Probably not slash: but is possible, I haven't decided yet
In fact no pairings have been decided yet, they're only babies!
This chapter is only the prologue, others will be longer.
Will incorporate the some cannon, but everything will always be slightly AU due to Harry's presence.
Thanx for reading, and please tell me what you think!