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March 5, 1960. Unknown, Wales. 6:44 p.m.

At the end of an alley, lay a body against the wall. The body was slouch with arms hanging above its head. The body was a young man blond hair, fair skin with a hung head in complete darkness. At the foot of the body lay a stick with silver twirls around it, the twirls, however, made the stick look as it had silvery vein thought only the stick was visible to those who pass gave a glance at the alley. Yet no one notices the dark lining of shoes next to the silvery stick. However, the silvery stick was part of the blond young man and only him as the stick was only to be wielded for those who have magic. But, neither of that was important as the young man's chest rarely rose. The young man could not continue to cling to life despite his magic that grew none existence tried to help him survive. With the last stuttering breath, the body did not take another breath again. 'I am sorry,' the young man thought in his last moments in despair, grieve and sorrow. It had been his fault whether, by accident or trickery, he laid the blame. For the young man who learned too late, he failed and fell. No matter if he was a pureblood, a half-blood or a mudblood; he betrayed the family and nothing could change that.


Few blocks away, a man continues walking away from the crime he committed in that lone dark alley. He bares through the pain that is taking a toll on this body but he will himself to not limp.

Not eight hours ago, he took out a family and barely escape with his life. While still injured, he still had to hunt the traitor. The man wanted to snort of the irony. Traitor to the cause; traitor to the family. William Roswell, godson of Ramsey Carlisle. The only child of Victor Roswell and Allison Roswell née Malfoy. The man could go on and on about his target but he just wanted to go home. To his mistress, who comforts him when his wife does not. Even if he loves his wife, he could not bear the thought of touching her as it used too. He blames her and she blames the thing she had given birth to and sadly, his only heir.

The man silently turns to the closest tree and bush that hides him from muggles and apparates away- or that was his intention before he feels a hook in his navel and being thrown to the hard floor.

The sunset that was there disappears and was replaced by darkness and cold stones. The man was about to stand but nausea hit him like the cold stone he lay in. He stops moving but nausea would not leave. Sensing burning fire erupting in his chest makes the man cough and choke on the liquid rising from his throat and out of his mouth. The man quickly turns to his side putting two hands in the cold floor as he lifts himself lightly jolting his nausea making him throw up.

A splash hit the floor and the man trembles. Another burst of his chest pushed him, he threw up again with his body turning clammy, feeling cold and hot but the nausea was just the tip of the iceberg. Another burst of fire but this time in the side of his face. Tears swell up as his body and magic fought against the sickness to keep his body stable but it was still overpowered.

As fire burst became more apparent through his whole body, the man silently curses his luck. Carlisle's are -were not known to be vengeful but there has always been a silent saying about them.

"If you betray the Carlisle, you are dead - ally, friend or family member. But if you pose a threat or kill one, you are dead. If they cannot kill you directly, they will take you down with them." His mother told him to be careful on this mission and specifically ask to never if he could be on the battlefield with a Carlisle and/ or a raised Carlisle or he was not coming back. He had humor her not believing a single word she said; however, she had been right. He did the one thing she asked him not to. He fought the Heir Carlisle of all people. Not only that, he fought the honorary member to the family not too long ago.

As the man's arms gave away, the man fell downwards into the vomit with a splash. The man limb slowly grew stiff and coldness hit. His breath who had been rapid was now heavy and barely took in air. The breath grew shorter but stop as the man coughs and coughs and coughs. The coughs racks through the man's body pushing to throw up again but the bile that rose became stuck on the man's throat. As the man tries to turn his head, his body shakes violently.

"Ergh! er-ugh!" the man's eyes betray him as he tries to grasp consciousness but darkness pulls down and down. The man desperately tries to breathe. To cling on his life. To cling and cling hoping to never disappear but no such luck.

'Cather-!' was the last thought of the dying man.

In a dark room of the cold stone floor, laid another body. Unlike his enemy in the alley, he lays, unknown to the man, in his blood on the basement known of the burned building the man had burned not ten hours ago. This time, no one who was not a Carlisle could enter the basement and find his body. There, the man laid and rot and no one would know where his body lay.


July 18, 1994. London, England. Swilling & Parson's Law firm. 4:06 p.m.

Kristine Angelo sat in her office staring into space for an hour now. She was still not exactly sure how long of a month it has been for her. Harrison James Potter, The Boy who Lived and son of Mr. and Mrs. Potter; the ones who had been unable to become Lord and Lady Potter as a madman was after their son. When she had Mr. Tonks, a muggle-born lawyer, come into her office about guardianship of young-to-be lord, she had been ecstatic. She often did not deal with the 'supreme elite' of the wizarding community and had zero experience, but she did handle many cases of guardianships.

As every case she did, she asked Mr. Tonks on everything he found and the name of the client and child and the reason for changing guardianship. Mr. Tonks had told her it was just a transfer but to also make sure to have papers just in case they went into a custody battle. It was a norm to those who face abuse and those who guardians did not let others take care of their 'mistake,' except… the child was Harry James Potter, the boy who was indeed taken care of, love and spoil. It was a statement indirectly from the headmaster of Hogwarts, the last known person to see the hero and magical guardian of said boy, given to the press. Yet, she had file paperwork of custody guardianship. While she only knew so much for those in the normal world, the wizarding world guardianship was different. She wonders how this Elroy Weiss was able to get custody of the wizarding's resident hero. It had all needed approval before the "temporary" guardian had been signed which had her unease and disgusted. If she had complained or express any displeasure of how these case, in particular, was treated in special treatment, she would have been removed from the well-pay cases or possibly not having a job.

Kristine knew this case was never normal in any case for several reasons but only three were the main reasons. One, the custody of the child was Harry Potter. Two, Elroy Weiss is a member of the family of elites who serve the Queen – magically, of course. Lastly, because of said service, the royal party was well aware of the case but had no "official" statement over it because it was needed to be hidden for undisclosed reasons. Which leaves her with a case she absolutely despises. Of course, Kristine knew there was more than it was said of the case but now, knows. She had seen that home. It was a house that a teenager would have and/ or most probably did call it a prison. There had been no love between the guardian and the child; therefore, she was not surprised or made a comment when said child's magic unexpectedly exploded. Clearly, Elroy Weiss was not good at telling the boy the circumstances. It made her displease at both man and ex-guardian but she knows she has no sway in what the child needs.

It had been a sour pill to swallow after the revelation. Stress. Mr. Weiss said. The child was stress and agitated. The child looked like an eleven-year-old even if they were actually thirteen soon to be fourteen. She felt that she needed to scream at the man. To treat the child and not just speculate but she was a squid, what did she know about magical? Especially, magical children? 'She could not help the boy', she told herself. She had no business in meddling with wizards' affairs. She had been told by her parents many times but why did she feel gut-wrenching feeling to help the child? He was a wizard and she was a squid and yet…

Correcting birth certificates, doctoring documents after documents to have the child 'cemented' in society. She needed to do this. It was the only way she knew how to help. She might not know how to help him in the magical world but she did know how to help him in the normal world. So, she now accommodated everything for the child in hopes he would only need for emergency or needed to hide.

Kristine, after a long complementing about what the child would need before the case was closed, stood up and walk to her secretary hoping he would get her tea for the long hours she will pull off. In three days, she hopes she will be finished by then.


July 19, 1994. Unknown, London, England. 1:13 a.m.

Harry turns his head and buries his face in the soft good-smelling pillow with a sigh of pleasure as unconsciousness invited him closer.


Harry shot up in a sitting position and turn to his snow-white friend, Hedwig, who was perch in the stick of her cage watching him before rattling her wings and made herself comfortable before sleeping. Again, not that Harry knew that.

Harry blinks at the darkness in his room while light illuminated from the window for him to be able to see Hedwig but the rest of the room was still dark. He let himself sink into the large bed, he absently notes and tried to remember the last thing he did. With an unconscious shaky breath, Harry slowly remembers his aunt glaring at him demanding he packed and then, it was the man… "Hello, Harry. It's been a long time and you probably do not know me or remember me but my name's Elroy J. Weiss or E.J. for short," the voice- person- man said, "and I'm your uncle."

Harry bit his lip and slid his legs off the comfortable bed and silently stood up. He wonders what happened afterward. After seeing the man's green eyes, he had felt himself uncoil before he was taken by darkness but the last thing he saw, was the man's, his apparent uncle, eyes widen and a wand in his hand. Harry slowly walk around the bed to find no object in his way. He slowly inches toward what he believes the wall but his foot something hard.

"Mm!" Harry bit his lip from making a noise.

"Hoot." Harry release a breath before gently bending down to find what his feet hit but his hands meet a soft yet hard piece of furniture midway. Harry lets his hand slide against the surface until a soft moving thing found its way to his face. He swiftly hit what obscure his view in the already dark room and heard a soft thud. He then decides to sit on the floor and reach for the thing. His hand grasps the soft material, round material with large like-button in the center … a pillow. Harry releases a sigh trying to not facepalm before he slowly slid his hand against the floor to reach the furniture, he now believes is a sofa.

"Hoot?" Harry's hands now lay on the sofa before he stands and let one hand slide against the sofa in hopes he reaches a door or a light switch. At the end of the sofa, Harry again slides his hand against it; this time, however, inwards in the arms of the sofa to hopefully reach a wall. He is successful and Harry glides his hands up, down, side to side in hopes he finds something. Surprisingly, Harry reaches the end of the wall and was about to continue on the other wall but when his hand glided towards the other wall, he noted a bump which often indicated a door. With much confidence, Harry slowly finds the slender handle. Pushing down the handle with a frown, Harry opens the door before light automatically lights up the room… the bathroom which was bigger than he has ever seen. Right in front of door eight feet away was a tub, next to it – to the right – was a reasonable size frosted glass shower stall. Harry noted the double sink right next to the door. Behind the door was a wall, Harry walks in and peeks behind the wall to find the toilet and some cabinets. Harry walk out but let the door open to see the room he was in.

The room was as big as Dudley's room, if only slightly bigger than the other. A large bed against a wall and a sofa in front of the bed. Next to the sofa was a desk area which also had Hedwig on top of it. The widow's heavy curtain was open but the light white-looking curtain was close yet light still came through. Harry walk up to the window opposite of the bathroom and open the curtains.

Dark night with light twinkle stars and the sight of no building but land made Harry wondering where he was.

It had taken Harry a while to find the door which was hidden behind the wall his bed was. He had not realized the wall ended with a portion big enough to be called an entryway before it reached the window's wall where the lights switch lay. Thankfully, after turning the lights on he was able to find the door and turn them off before Hedwig decided to force him to. Getting out of the room have been nerve-wracking especially when the section he was staying was quiet while downstairs was lively. He had heard the chatter of people talking before light cheering came after but nonetheless lively which he would later contribute it came from the telly. He had been upstairs where his room was one of the two rooms opposite of the other and next to stairs where most of the noise came from. After that, he explored the house away from the noise. In the hallway, he had come across another set of stairs which were spiral compareed to the straight stairs next to his room and at the other end of the hallway were three more doors. He took the spiral stairs down and reach what appears to be the main hallway. 'A house?' Harry thought however he almost jumps when it became quiet and the talking people were not heard anymore.

"And you just said 'I'm your uncle,'" was said incredulously and rang throughout the house. Harry quietly explores the front of the house noting the formal rooms with quick peeks in every room before he continues back where the noise came from but stops when he notices the main living room and the kitchen was wide open and quickly backs away.

"Well, uh, yeah," the sheepish reply was. Harry rounded back to the main entrance and enter the small room which had the most minimal comforts reading-like room, passes the dining room and then, the next room is the main living room. Harry peeks inside the room to see the redhead man's kneeling in front of the fireplace. While the room is open to see, there was couch long enough for three to four people and two recliners added with other cushions in front of the fireplace. Despite the layout, Harry attention was on the redhead who claims to be his uncle that was sitting on the floor wearing fitting khaki bottoms and a loose off-white sweater with gray socks.

"Hahahahahaha," a sharp laugh made Harry jump and turns his attention from the redhead to the fireplace where a head floated whose head was tilting to a side as it laughs. Harry could not distinguish the person feature besides a short-hair man.

"What is this? Star Wars?!" the head laugh again while the redhead man's shoulder fell down.

"Ha-ha-ha, very funny I am dying in laughter, or wait that will be you if you don't shut up Elia," the redhead man said with mock and threaten with a slight exasperation at the end though to Harry's ears; he knew the man was not serious.

"I'm sorry E.J, but you're -ah, how should I say this… you're a moron?" giggle "Elia" to "E.J," the redhead man. Harry slid to the floor to listen in more conformably. 'Is this Ej, the Ej Sirius spoke about? My suppose uncle?' thought Harry before the conversation drags him away from his thoughts.

"What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, you have your mom's eyes' just like I told Lily?" E.J's voice rose lightly with hysteria tinting in his voice, "because it worked so well the last time. You known how long it took Lily to even acknowledge we were in fact related and not just some lie! And don't get me started with Petunia!" Harry peeks inside when he heard his mother's name and stay like that to see the redhead man whose shoulder was now tense and his arms moving wildly as if trying to express his feeling.

"I know! Dammit, Javen! Calm down!" Elia's voice pierced throughout the room, with no humor anymore, that even made Harry had him sat straighter gripping the wall's edge and lean closer to hear the commanding voice better.

"Look," Elia's said with a tone Harry could not place though he noted E.J's shoulder loosens a little tension though it was still there, "I know, I get it. You have not seen Harry since he was in diapers, and Petunia not telling him about you but you both had a good reason. Even if hers was not well… Let's not get into that.

"And, you. Javen, you went to war." Elia's tone turns gravely as he spoke, "Voldemort was high demand in England but Photios needed its warriors. Weiss were needed in Bere. We had no choice even if you asked them to come with us but you knew how loyal they were. Which war was the worst? Starvation and necromancer in Photios? Voldemort in England? Or political and assassinations in Bere?

"No war was better than the other one but yes, it would have been safer for them if they had tagged along with us to Bere. And don't get me started with sightings of those …" Elia said in end with disgust but E.J stays quiet with his head hanging.

The room was quiet and Harry was shocked. Three wars were going on at the same time, but like Elia said, which one was safer? Harry mulled in the thought. If he heard right, Bere was the safest war but it was hard to predict where his parent would choose since his family was one of the primaries target in England. Why not go? What stopped them besides their loyalty? But to whom? And what or who are 'those'?

"Elia," E.J whisper defeated unable to contradict anything. "If they had gone to Bere-"

"Stop," Elia commanded, "there will no 'if's right now. You cannot linger in the past. You're a thirty-six-year-old man. A brother, a godfather, an uncle to several niece and nephews and most of all, a father.

"Besides," Elia's voice turned to a playful voice, "in three or several years later you are going to find yourself fathering another son, or hopefully a daughter, out of wedlock. Seriously, keep your dick in your pants."

"They were accidents!" splutters E.J. whose ears were red but Harry did not know if it was just the ears or the whole face and if E.J was spluttering out in embarrassment, anger, mortification or a combination of the three.

"Yeah, two accidents! Who one happens to a sixteen-year-old boy and another an almost three years old," Elia mock, "oh, and do not get me started with you nineteen- and fourteen-years-old nephew! Why are they all boys! Why not a girl! Dammit, now I want a girl!

"Dylan, we have a girl!" Elia yells in a whine as his head turns around ignoring E.J who was trying to denying everything with his hands waving in front of his face. Harry, on the other hand, froze though no thoughts were able to form as the men continue their conversation.

"Don't ask Dylan that when I'm right here!" E.J yell in hysteria though this hysteria was different from his previous one as it was whinnered with light disgust and the man sway side to side covering his ear.

"C'mon E.J, Dylan is perfect-"

"Yeah! But I do not want to hear the implication of you producing!"

"At least, my boys are beautiful!" Elia jabbed.

"Thanks to Dylan's genes," E.J mock back.

"So, you admit Dylan's beautiful," a finality in Elia's voice.

"I'm prettier," said E.J vainly and Elia snorted.

"Riiight, anyways, are we meeting in England or Italy?"

"Italy? I don't know. Dad's with Ian in Italy and Brandon's picking up Allen next week for the wedding and Xander will be arriving in France tomorrow."

"Why do you have so many kids?" laughs Elia.

"You're the one who's having one son leave its nest," said E.J. quietly, "how's Dylan taking it." E.J now lay down in front of the fireplace staring at the ceiling while Harry crawls behind the sofa and moving slowly without getting the attention of either man.

"He is actually happy," Elia's surprise was evident to E.J and Harry, "says that Steff should also marry and is trying to get 'Mien to find someone. It probably hasn't sunk in yet."

Both men are quiet at the thoughts of their family.

"I never ask but how old is the bride?" E.J ask in light astonishment. Elia, however, snorts.

"Have you not been listening to me when I told you she was a year older than our boy?" Elia's tone implying the man said it many times to does who have not heard him.

"Huh, I thought it was just three months and not a year…" E.J trails off.

"~~~~!" Harry hears faintly and both men turn white.

"Nice knowing you," E.J said with finality before swiping his wand across the board of the fireplace surprising Harry when he no longer sees the head after.

It was quiet for a minute as the redhead stares into the fireplace while Harry lay still until he decided to leave. Slowly he crawls backward while hoping he would not make a noise and not grab the attention of the redhead but Harry's attempt was in vain.

"You can sit with me if you like?"

Harry froze in fear.

"You are not in trouble." Neither move for a while before E.J stands up and turns to Harry. Harry, who was following the man's movements, stares at E.J in fear no matter what E.J said before.

"You want food? You have been out since," E.J checks on his watch that Harry had not noticed before until now, "one." E.J waits for a minute before walking to the kitchen next from the living room. All white with brown wood-like counters and the most recent appliances there were. The man walks to the refrigerator and takes out a container of juice and grabs a cup from a cabinet.

As the man does this, Harry's eyes follow the man and his mind going wild unable to think before he slowly stands up and sits in the couch of the living room watching the man. However, the man pays no attention to Harry as he makes a sandwich and grabbing another cup to pour juice.

The man was pale, tall and had broad shoulder but they had a soft edge. It made him look kinder in the way his shoulder was square yet lightly hunch down as if trying to downplay his natural dominance aura. Except, Harry was not sure if it was natural or practice.

"Your magic lashed out and it knocked you out," the man says as he puts the juice container away, "I drew up a small ward in the room you were staying so it wouldn't affect Petunia's house.

"Thankfully, you were okay," the man says as he brings a plate with a sandwich and juice before giving to Harry. Harry takes it seeing that the man was not trying to anything harmful while the man grabs the coffee table and put it back where it belongs Harry places the cup in the small table and takes a bite of the sandwich. A very tasty sandwich.

"Sorry if I made you scare or panic. It was not my intention." The man now sat in side arm chair but neither said anything after that. Harry ate his sandwich as he thought. 'Is this the man Sirius spoke about? … what about my stuff? Hedwig is here but what about the rest? The cloak, the map, his photo album…'

"You said you were my uncle, how you know that?" Harry said cautiously in no hurry to just act. If he is the man Sirius spoke about, he wanted the man to help his godfather. While also dismissing how the man knew he was there and what his magic done. He would ask later.

"Ever heard of a tapestry?" the man asks but Harry shakes his head negatively.

"In an old home of mine, there was a tapestry. A tapestry is like a large portion wall or paper being drawn in. The tapestry I'm talking about though showed the family tree and the family's expanding and also shows if a member is alive is alive. For example, when I first saw it, I was seventeen at that time. At that time, I only knew little bit of the history of our family. Back in the early 1960 the family home caught on fire but it was unknown how many died and who died. That what I knew. I knew both of my grandparents died in the fire and so did one of my uncles but my uncle's body was not found while my grandparents were. I knew there were other bodies unidentified but everyone just knew most of the family died. I mean, I was written down as 'dead' yet I was at an orphanage waiting to be adopted." Harry sandwich forgotten as he listens to E.J.

"And when I found the tapestry in the old home, I knew I was getting answer. It listed my grandparent's death. My aunt and uncle too along with four of their children, their children's spouse and their grandchildren. Another uncle died too along with his children and he was the heir of the family. My parents were listed too but none of their children died."

"Mom and you…" Harry whispers. E.J shakes his head making Harry confused.

"No, your mom, my older brother and me. My parents had three children."

"But!" Harry thoughts go wild. If he had another uncle then, where is he?