Hadrian was hyperventilating on his shoulder and sobbing large wet tears against Tom’s chest. He was absolutely covered in blood – Tom couldn’t tell if any of it was his own. Tom carded his hand through sweat slick dark hair wishing more than ever that James was here. Tom was not a comforting person, but he needed to be for his son.
‘Breathe with me, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out,’ Tom said voice gentle.
A couple of decades ago Tom would have been horrified for people to see him so caring as he was now. He would have seen it as a weakness. He would have been disgusted at the idea of having someone snivelling on him especially a child.
But that was before James, before Hadrian. Now none of his pride mattered – all that did was making sure that his son was okay.
Eventually Hadrian’s breathing did even out but he was still crying softly, and his head was buried in Tom’s shoulder. His eyes were screwed closed tightly, refusing to look anywhere near Albus Dumbledore’s corpse. Tom wanted to be elated for Dumbledore’s death and had he killed him he would be.
But Hadrian was not like him. He had a soft heart and would never be comfortable with killing even his worst enemy, even people who deserved to die, who had hurt him and were planning to hurt him more.
‘Hadrian, can you tell me are you hurt at all,’ Tom said seriously.
Hadrian shook his head, ‘no … I killed him … I killed him … I just wanted to escape … I didn’t want him to hurt me … to hurt my baby … I … he said he would … just wanted to be safe … Lucius … I killed him … I killed him …’
Hadrian was becoming more hysterical the more he talked. Tom rubbed circles in his back as Hadrian cried and tried to get him to calm down once more. Tom was really worried that Hadrian was going to damage himself or the baby if he kept on.
‘Hadrian, Dumbledore was going to kidnap you, hurt you, hurt your baby, you did what was necessary to survive,’ Tom said gently. ‘No one can doubt that.’
‘I killed him … I killed him …’ Hadrian continued to mutter, whole body shaking.
‘Madam Bones, I need to get him to his Healer,’ Tom said sharply.
Bones nodded, ‘Shacklebolt, Proudfoot, go with Lord Slytherin.’
‘Lucius … Dumbledore … said … said … dead …’ Hadrian muttered miserably.
Tom felt his heart stop at those words. It wasn’t concern for Lucius, but for Hadrian. Tom knew what it was like to lose the love of your life. A pain that Tom wondered if it would ever leave him. To be left trying to raise their child without their other parent. That Hadrian might be facing the same made him want to resurrect Dumbledore and torture him to death slowly.
‘I can’t lose him,’ Hadrian said voice cracking.
‘You are strong, Hadrian,’ Tom said softly. ‘I know it hurts, but you will survive this I know you will.’
‘I don’t want to,’ Hadrian said.
‘I know,’ Tom said.
Tom helped Hadrian to his feet but as soon as he had Hadrian caught sight of Dumbledore’s mangled corpse. Hadrian dropped to his knees and threw up looking at his body with undisguised horror. Hadrian was rocking himself back and forwards again.
Tom knelt beside him and gently lifted him into his arms, cradling his son close to his chest. Tom said nothing as he was followed by the two Aurors to the ward barriers which were disintegrating further and further.
Hadrian was still sobbing.
Every tear made Tom want to commit murder.
But that would have to wait.
Hadrian needed him!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
‘Sectumsempra,’
Dumbledore brought half of the wall away from him to block the unfriendly curse. Lucius had to use a shielding charm himself to defend against flying debris and dust. Honestly, he could have easily transfigured a barrier it was like he wanted to destroy Lucius’ home.
‘Well, this hallway was in need of redecorating,’ Lucius said casually.
‘Noxium,’
Thick black smoke began to form Dumbledore’s wand. Lucius didn’t know what it was but could guess that whatever it was – was not friendly. Lucius performed a bubblehead charm which was designed to protect against most gases and liquids.
‘Magna Venti Maximus,’
A guest strong wind blew Dumbledore’s smoke away and was so strong that Dumbledore was stuck to the wall. Unfortunately, it had the side effect of making Lucius unable to hear anything that Dumbledore was saying over the sound of storm. Thus, when a sky-blue curse came whistling towards him Lucius couldn’t identify it for sure, but it was probably decerpendo one of the lesser death curses which basically broke your neck. Lucius dodged to the left allowing the curse to shatter through most of the wall behind him.
‘Caput lacero,’ Lucius cursed.
The purple head wrecking curse spiralled towards Dumbledore like a corkscrew. Dumbledore side stepped to the right and the back wall was blown in. Dumbledore then sent a respirabis ultra charm at him. Lucius was forced to move quickly to the right.
‘Avada Kedavra,’ Lucius cursed.
Dumbledore pulled the other wall to protect himself from the curse. Honestly, at this rate he would end up having no hallway left. The curse naturally disintegrated the summoned wall leaving Dumbledore standing in a cloud of dust and rubble.
‘Avada Kedavra,’ Lucius sent again.
This time Dumbledore jumped into the art room which had been exposed by the fallen room and shielded behind a large stone statue of his ancestor Armand Malfoy. Naturally, it blew up sending white pieces of marble everywhere. Lucius ducked to avoid being concussed by his ancestor’s flying head. Lucius was glad that Armand’s portrait was protecting the secret passageway, or he would be screaming blue murder.
‘Avada Kedavra,’ Lucius cursed again.
And another statue exploded into bits.
‘Tenebris mortis,’ Lucius cursed.
The black death curse jetted off in Dumbledore’s direction. Dumbledore ducked out of the way once more. Lucius didn’t give Dumbledore time to get his bearings again before he sent a blindness curse at the old man which he easily countered.
Dumbledore summoned fiendfyre which circled around him. Lucius had never been good with fire-type spells much more talented with air and water magics. Lucius choked on the fumes and flames licked at his back and front.
But Lucius was able to eventually able to summon lytewater which whilst a light type, spell Lucius was far better at than even attempting to control the dark fires. Unfortunately, by the time he had managed to affectively douse the fire Dumbledore had gone clearly believing him about to be burnt alive. Lucius fell to his knees, feeling his throat raw from the noxious fumes of the fiendfyre; he was sure he had burns on his back and he could see the burns on his arms.
Lucius knew despite that he wanted to go after Dumbledore, to find Harry, he was too exhausted and injured to do any of that. He would only hold them up. Lucius would just have to hope that he had bought Harry enough time for he and Black to get out.
Lucius tapped into the wards – the hole was growing ever larger just beyond the Quidditch pitch. At this point it wouldn’t be so much a repair job, but a completely new set of wards would have to be installed. Aside from that there were about sixty people in the still functioning wards in multiple locations.
How many people did Dumbledore have?
Most worrying was the nine in the drawing room where Harry was supposed to be escaping through. But the dozen coming towards him were no less of a concern. Lucius feeling exhausted, lungs burning from the inhalation of smoke from the Dark fire, burns aching, but he would not go down without fighting against those who sought him. Lucius pulled himself up from the ground on wobbly legs.
‘Lord Malfoy,’ an older man in blue Auror robes said. ‘I am Senior Auror Perkins, are you alright? What happened here?’
‘Dumbledore – fiendfyre,’ Lucius replied.
Perkins looked grim, ‘lytewater?’
Lucius nodded.
‘Did you inhale?’ Perkins asked.
Lucius was saved from answering with a coughing fit as he tried to draw breath through damaged lungs. He had to clutch to what was left of his wall to remain standing through it all. And he had to keep fighting – Harry was still in danger.
‘Healer Finnigan, get over here,’ Perkins said.
Lucius sneered, ‘get off me Harry-‘
‘Don’t talk,’ the healer spoke with a strong Irish accent. ‘It will do you further damage. This is beyond my skill to heal – he needs St. Mungo’s.’
‘Heir Slytherin has been found by Madam Bones and Lord Slytherin,’ Perkins said. ‘I have to ask aside from yourself, Heir Slytherin, your son and Sirius Black is anyone else here?’
Lucius shook his head, ‘Draco’s at his mother’s …’
Perkins pulled out a mirror, ‘Perkins, Head of the Sierra Squadron, Lord Lucius Malfoy has been found alive, with burn damage and fume inhalation from Fiendfyre. Draco Malfoy is not in residence. Sirius Black still be located.’
‘Okay, get Lord Malfoy to St. Mungo’s,’ Bones said over the mirror.
‘Dumbledore?’ wheezed Lucius.
‘Dead,’ Perkins said grimly.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
‘Senior Auror Fawley, Auror Gosforth, you keep the scene of death secure,’ ordered Amelia.
The Slytherins had just left the premises. Amelia had managed to keep it professional, but it had been a difficult thing to do because Hadrian Slytherin was her Susan’s age. And all she could think was how Susan would have coped in that situation – attempted kidnapped by a former abuser, being unable to defend himself except to stab the kidnapper, and then freaking out because from what she had seen that is exactly what had happened. And Hadrian Slytherin would have to live with the death of Albus Dumbledore for many years to come. It would take a lot of therapy to heal from that.
Amelia had no plans to press charges for that action. Although, there would undoubtedly be members of the progressive party who would argue strongly against that. But even if it did make it to trial – the clear evidence of self defence would get him off anyway. Given that all the evidence of what Dumbledore had done to the boy and the fact that Dumbledore had invaded with the intention of kidnapping there was no way anyone would prosecute him especially given his absolute breakdown afterwards.
The mirror rang, ‘Perkins, Head of the Sierra Squadron, Lord Lucius Malfoy has been found alive, with burn damage from Fiendfyre and fume inhalation. Draco Malfoy is not in residence. Sirius Black still be located.’
Amelia breathed a sigh of relief – Dumbledore must have left Lord Malfoy to burn alive, but the man must have counteracted the flames. At least that was one less thing for Hadrian Slytherin to have to deal with on top of everything else.
Amelia and her squad began to go through the ground floor. In the first room she came to she found four unconscious, one witch on her knees looking shaken and a wizard standing over Sirius Black as water bubbled from his mouth.
‘Expelliarmus, incarcerous,’ Amelia enchanted quickly. ‘Healer Coote.’
Coote immediately began doing chest compressions and giving him mouth to mouth in an effort to revive him. Amelia and the rest of the Guinevere squad was in the process of arresting the five witches and wizards (not that there was any resistance thanks to them being mostly unconscious). But then Amelia heard the sound that she most wanted to hear – a splutter, then a cough as Sirius Black expelled the remaining liquid from his lungs.
Sirius Black was breathing.
Sirius Black was alive.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lord Slytherin laid his son down on his bed. The boy didn’t resist, just lay there looking so fragile and so very, very young. Kingsley felt sick – Dumbledore had done this! This little boy was an innocent (no matter who is father may or may not be) and Dumbledore had attempted to kidnap him forcing him to kill in self-defence and it was clear to all who had found him how much of an ordeal it was.
‘Proudfoot, go and Floo call Healer Whitehead – his home address is on the business card on the mantelpiece,’ Lord Slytherin ordered.
Proudfoot nodded and left.
‘Is he going to be alright?’ asked Kingsley.
‘He’s just killed a man,’ snapped Slytherin angrily. ‘Does he look alright?’
Kingsley nodded looking down apologetically. Kingsley considered the man who Dumbledore had claimed was the Dark Lord Voldemort. Yet, he had seen the way that the boy had grabbed desperately at him. The way Lord Slytherin had held and comforted him as he completely broke down. It went far beyond just concern for an Heir and surely if Heir Slytherin was He Who Must Not Be Named’s heir he wouldn’t be so distressed killing Dumbledore, surely the boy would have already killed in his father’s name.
‘Would you stand outside whilst I get Hadrian changed and cleaned,’ Slytherin said.
Kingsley nodded and stepped aside. A couple of minutes late Floretta returned with a dark-skinned man, carrying a green Healer’s medical bag. Despite it being not yet four in the morning the man didn’t seem perturbed about being woken in the middle of the night. He might be used to it – after all babies didn’t tend to arrive in a nice nine-to-five manner.
‘Lord Slytherin want to get Heir Slytherin changed without me watching,’ Kingsley explained.
‘Well, it is nothing I haven’t seen before,’ Healer Whitehead said pushing through into the boy’s bedroom.
-
‘What happened, my Lord?’ asked Gregor.
‘Dumbledore attempted to kidnap him,’ Tom said with a growl. ‘He seems to be physically unharmed … but it was he who killed Dumbledore and he is not like me.’
‘No one is, my Lord,’ Gregor said. ‘And I want to be the judge of whether he is harmed or not.’
Tom nodded and stepped back as the Healer did his work.
‘His stress levels are high – as is to be expected given the circumstances,’ Gregor said. ‘But thankfully, his magic levels are on the low side of normal range but nothing to be worried about. All he needs his sleep – I will prescribe a sleeping potion that will put him to sleep for eight to ten hours. Heir Slytherin, I know that you were against speaking with Healer Hoghedge, but I really would suggest you seriously think about talking to a Mind Healer.’
Tom looked at his son and thought that was something that Hadrian desperately needed. Tom thought of all he had suffered through his short life – abuse, betrayal, being hunted by him, Dumbledore, being forced to kill! Tom just wanted to protect him but seemed woefully unprepared to do so.
Tom arrived to see the two Aurors still loitering outside Hadrian’s bedroom.
‘Lord Slytherin, you should know that Lord Malfoy and Sirius Black have been found injured but alive – they are being transported to St. Mungo’s now,’ Shacklebolt said. ‘Madam Bones, wants to take your son’s statement.’
‘Healer Whitehead has given him sleeping potion,’ Tom said. ‘He is unlikely to be up before two. At which point I want him to be rechecked by Healer Whitehead and eat something before he is questioned.’
‘I’ll pass the message on,’ nodded Auror Proudfoot.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Draco groaned as he was shaken awake. He turned over and tried to pull the covers back over his heads. His mother, however, was having none of that. Draco cracked his eyes open – it was not even properly light outside.
‘Mother,’ Draco said grumpily.
‘There was an attack in the early hours of the morning,’ she said biting her lip. ‘Your father is in St. Mungo’s.’
‘Is he alright?’ asked Draco.
‘I don’t know,’ Narcissa said worry in her eyes.
Draco was up and dressed in minutes and they quickly made their way into St. Mungo’s. His father naturally had a private suite on the fourth floor for spell damage. Draco was really nervous about what he would see. What if his father was seriously hurt? So, when they entered and his father looked fine except bandages around pretty much his whole upper torso Draco was relieved. Draco wanted to throw himself at his father, but his mother held him back.
‘Mother,’ Draco hissed.
‘Your mother is right, Draco,’ his father said. ‘I have second-degree burns on over half of my back, and over eighty percent of my arms.’
‘Lucius, what happened?’ Narcissa asked. ‘The Healers didn’t say much.’
Draco’s father pursed his lips, ‘Dumbledore, broke into the manor – how I am not quite sure. I attempted to give Harry enough time to get away.’
‘You fought Dumbledore,’ Draco said.
‘I lost,’ his father said letting his bandages speak for himself.
‘Are you going to be okay?’ asked Draco biting looking at his father’s extensive injuries.
‘I have burn paste on me just now,’ Lucius said. ‘The hospital healers have informed me that due to the magic used it will scar … but I am sure Healer Whitehead knows some less than legal healing techniques that will get rid of the worst.’
‘Well, you survived that is the important thing,’ Draco’s mother said.
‘What about Dumbledore?’ asked Draco.
‘Dead apparently,’ Lucius said smirking slightly. ‘I suppose the Dark Lord was unimpressed with him attempting to kill his son. Has … Lord Slytherin contacted you?’ asked Draco’s father.’
His mother shook her head, ‘no. Only St. Mungo’s – I’m still your emergency contact.’
Draco’s father looked disappointed at that.
‘You’re worried about Harry,’ Draco said.
‘I can go and see him if you would like,’ Draco’s mother said.
Lucius nodded, ‘I would, thank you. Your cousin is in the room next to mine – they won’t give me any details, but you might have better luck and I am sure Harry will want to know what happened to Black.’
Narcissa nodded, ‘yes, I will.’
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Narcissa quickly left Draco and Lucius. Draco had looked shaken by his father’s injuries, but Lucius seemed alright, mostly worried about the Dark Prince which was completely natural. It was only after Narcissa left Lucius’ suite did she find a Healer who was treating Sirius.
‘May I ask for an update on my cousin?’ asked Narcissa.
‘He’s still unconscious,’ admitted the Healer. ‘He nearly drowned – we are unsure of how long he was deprived of oxygen. There is a potential for brain damage, but we can’t be sure until he wakes up.’
Narcissa nodded darkly – this was not the news that she wanted to hear or news that would help the Dark Prince. But he was alive, that was the important thing, they were all alive. It was just healing now.
‘Thank you, Healer,’ Narcissa said.
‘Would you like to sit with him?’ asked the Healer. ‘It might help him.’
Narcissa knew that she should go – she needed an update on the Dark Prince from the Dark Lord. Lucius needed to know. But at the same time, she didn’t want to leave her cousin. There was five-year age gap between them, and at the moment he looked just as pale and young as when the sorting hat had called out Gryffindor. Narcissa didn’t like Sirius being this quiet, her cousin wasn’t capable of being this quiet.
‘Oh, Sirius, please be alright,’ Narcissa said softly.