Chapter Text
Pendragon Rising
By JC Vascardi
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Chapter One
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Mundane Date: Wednesday, 31 July 1985 CE…
Wixen Date: Amadas, 9 Secondseed 11485 WF…
Boy woke up with a jolt as the lady of the house passed by the door to his cupboard and pounded on it. “Boy! Wake up and make the breakfast!”
Grabbing his glasses from the small shelf above his head, Boy put them on, as he yawned and stretched. “Yes, Mrs. Dursley.”
Quickly changing out of his pajamas and into some of the overly large hand-me-downs of Master Dudley’s that he’d outgrown, Boy opened the door to his cupboard and stood up. Without a word, he moved down the hallway into the kitchen and began taking out everything he’d need to make breakfast for the nice people who’d taken him in.
At least, he thought they were nice. Not that he had much to compare it to, as living with Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and their son, Master Dudley, was all he’d ever known. He wasn’t allowed to go outside unless it was to the backyard to tend to Mrs. Dursley’s garden, where the neighbors couldn’t see his freakishness.
He also wasn’t allowed to watch television or read anything but recipes or chore lists. So he really had no way of knowing that his life was anything but normal. Mr. Dursley had told him that he was an orphan that they’d taken in purely out of the kindness of their hearts, after his parents, freaks just like him, had gotten themselves killed in a car crash.
Boy did notice that Master Dudley was treated differently than him, but he was Mr. and Mrs. Dursley’s son, while Boy was a freak. So, it made sense that Master Dudley was treated differently. Right?
At least that’s what he’d always been told if he ever asked. After he got slapped upside the head, of course.
Freaks weren’t supposed to talk unless spoken to.
And questions should be kept to the bare minimum and when they were unavoidable, they should be limited only to cooking, cleaning, or his chores. Nothing else.
Such as about his parents or magic. Not that Boy knew what magic was. Other than that thing Mr. and Mrs. Dursley made a point of telling him no less than ten times a day that there was no such thing as.
Quietly and dutifully, Boy cooked breakfast for Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and Master Dudley as he did every morning. While he did this, Mrs. Dursley busied herself with writing notes or letters to her friends in the various social clubs that she or Mr. Dursley belonged to.
About half an hour later, Mr. Dursley and Master Dudley came downstairs and sat down at the dining room table.
“Bring my tea, Boy!” Mr. Dursley shouted.
“I’m hungry, bring my food, Boy,” Master Dudley spat.
“Yes, Mr. Dursley, Master Dudley,” Boy said, as he scrambled to plate food and pour tea.
“Well, it’s about time,” Mrs. Dursley said, as Boy poured her tea and set her plate on the table in front of her.
She took two bites before she stood and said, “I’ll be right back,” as she picked up the stack of letters. “I need to mail these and get the morning paper.”
“Have the boy do it,” Mr. Dursley said.
“And have his grubby little hands all over the letters to our friends? I think not!” Mrs. Dursley said, looking horrified at the very thought. “Besides getting the paper would mean opening the front door and that means the neighbors might see the little freak.”
“Ah, yes, you’re right, of course,” Mr. Dursley said. “We can’t have that,” before he snapped his fingers at Boy and said, “More milk and sugar for my tea, Boy!”
“I want strawberry preserves, not black currant!” Master Dudley screamed petulantly, as Boy fixed Mr. Dursley’s tea. He only just managed to catch the open jar of black currant preserves before it spilled all over the floor… which was probably what Master Dudley had been hoping would happen so that Boy would get slapped and yelled at.
Meanwhile, in the front hallway, Mrs. Petunia Dursley mailed her letters and grabbed the morning paper. She had partially turned away from the door and had almost completely closed it when she felt a sudden resistance as if someone had put their hand on the door and was preventing it from closing.
Opening the door and turning to see who it was, Petunia gasped.
“Ashton, Rowan,” she said, instantly recognizing the two identical men standing on her front porch.
“Hello Petunia,” the man on the left, Ashton, said.
“Long time no see,” Rowan, the one whose hand had stopped the door from closing, said. “May we come in?”
While Rowan phrased it as a question, he obviously wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer, as he pushed the door further open and stepped into the house, Petunia took a few steps back, as the two men entered the house, with Ashton closing the door behind him.
“Something smells good,” Rowan commented, as he sniffed the air.
“We were just eating breakfast,” Petunia said.
“Ah, how nice,” Ashton said. “I’d ask if Row and I can join you, but I don’t think we’re quite up to solid food yet.”
“Yes, we have been in comas for the last four years, after all,” Rowan added. “We should probably take it slow and let our stomachs get used to real food again after all that time on vitamin and nutrient potions.”
“I’m sure we can handle some tea, however,” Ashton said. “Maybe some dry toast.”
Hearing voices in the front hall, Mr. Vernon Dursley called out, “Petunia? Who are you talking to?”
Stepping past Petunia, Rowan and Ashton made their way down the hall to the kitchen. Stepping into the room, Rowan said, “Hello Vernon. Remember us?”
Vernon’s eyes widened, as he did, in fact, recognize the two men standing next to his dining room table. He just hadn’t expected to ever see them again… not when they’d been comatose for years.
When Vernon didn’t say anything, Dudley asked, “Who are you?”
Ashton looked at Dudley and said, “You must be Dudley,” prompting the boy to nod. “I’m Ashton Evans and this is my brother, Rowan. We’re your uncles… your mum’s brothers.”
“Why have I never met you before?” Dudley asked, and Boy could guess that Master Dudley was probably wondering why he’d never gotten any gifts from these two men, if they were, in fact, as one of them had just said, Mrs. Dursley’s brothers.
“We’ve been in hospital for the last four years,” Rowan replied. “We were comatose.”
“Comatose?” Dudley asked, unfamiliar with the word.
Petunia sighed. “It means they were asleep and unable to wake up.” Looking at her baby brothers, she added, “Clearly something changed.”
Ashton smiled. “Yes, our healers were quite amazed at our miraculous recovery. According to them, we were comatose one minute and awake and alert the next, with no physical signs of the last four years ever happening. We were released this morning and we came here immediately.”
“I would have thought you’d have gone to see your sons,” Petunia said, remembering that her brothers had children. “Jaxon, Landon, and London, isn’t it?”
Rowan nodded. “Yes, Jaxon is Ashton’s son, while Landon and London are mine. They’ve been living with their grandmother while we’ve been out of commission.”
Ashton nodded, as he added, “We’ll be seeing them soon enough. Gideon and Fabian are at their mother’s house, as we speak.”
“So they’re awake too then?” Petunia asked.
“Yes, all four of us are awake, alert, and ready to get on with our lives,” Rowan confirmed.
“Who are Gideon and Fabian?” Dudley asked, even as Vernon and Petunia shared a look, though Vernon’s looked much darker and more disapproving than Petunia’s did.
“A pair of fucking poofs are what they are,” Vernon said, angrily. “Just like your shirt-lifter uncles here.”
“Vernon!” Petunia said, her voice not only communicating displeasure at the words he was using but that he was using them in front of their son.
Looking at his wife, Vernon growled, “All four of them are a bunch of sick and depraved deviants who shouldn’t be within twenty miles of children. Especially male children.”
“That’s quite enough of that, Vernon,” Rowan said as what looked to Boy like a stick of wood came out of the man’s left sleeve, as a similar, different-colored stick came out of the other man’s right sleeve.
Vernon immediately shut up, as the two men put their sticks in his face.
Boy wondered what they were and why Mr. Dursley was seemingly so afraid of them.
Turning his gaze to Petunia, Ashton said, “We’re here for Harry, Petunia. We know how much you hate magic, so I can’t imagine you’ve enjoyed raising Lily’s son all these years. So, Row and I will take him off your hands.”
Boy didn’t know who this Harry person was. As far as he knew, the only people living in the house were Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Master Dudley, and himself, Boy.
Petunia looked down at her feet for a moment, before her gaze shifted to the corner of the kitchen where her nephew was standing. He tended to keep out of sight unless called for, so she doubted that her brothers had even noticed him.
“Boy, come here,” Petunia said.
Boy immediately came out of his hiding spot in the darkened corner of the kitchen at the call, coming obediently to Mrs. Dursley’s side as he looked up at her questioningly, waiting for whatever task she was about to give him.
Petunia sighed. Her brothers were going to hate her for this. Of course, if she was being honest with herself, she hated herself for it too. Not that she ever expressed that or let it show. Vernon would be most displeased if she did.
“Boy, your name is Harry James Potter,” Petunia said. “You’re my nephew. My sister Lily and her husband James were your parents.” After a moment’s pause, Petunia added, “And today is your fifth birthday.”
Ashton and Rowan looked shocked at what their sister had just said. Did they understand that right? Or was this a remnant of being comatose for the last four years? Because it sounded like Petunia was telling Lily’s son things he should have known for years now.
Boy looked confused at Mrs. Dursley. What she just said… well, it didn’t make any sense. He was Boy. He was a freak. And freaks don’t have names. Or birthdays.
Petunia closed her eyes before she did something she’d never done before. She knelt down to her nephew’s level and put her hands on his shoulders. Not in a harsh or angry way, but in a light, almost affectionate way.
“I know you must be confused,” Petunia said. “But what I just said is the truth. Your name is Harry, not Boy. Before I married Mr. Dursley, my name was Petunia Evans, the eldest of four children: my younger sister Lily, who was your mother, and our twin baby brothers, Ashton and Rowan, or Ash and Row, for short.”
Boy was still confused, but he nodded. He knew better than to argue with Mrs. Dursley. So, he just said, “Okay.”
“You’re going to go live with my brothers now,” Petunia said. “They have three sons near your age, all three born one year before you.”
Boy nodded before he looked up at Ashton and Rowan and asked, “So I’ll be serving you now?”
Ashton’s and Rowan’s eyes widened at this, as Rowan looked angrily down at Petunia and asked, “Serving? Tunia, what is he talking about?”
“I knew you were jealous that Lily, Row, and I had magic,” Ashton said. “But I never thought you’d take it so far that you’d raise Lily’s son as a servant.”
“There’s no such thing as magic!” Vernon nearly screamed.
Ashton gave Vernon a wholly unimpressed look before he pointed his stick at Vernon’s teacup and said, “Fera Verto!”
Boy didn’t understand what the man had just said, but his eyes widened at the result… Mr. Dursley’s teacup had just turned into some kind of bird, that was now pecking at his plate. Mr. Dursley looked scared enough that Boy wouldn’t be surprised if he soiled his pants.
That would definitely be one advantage of going to live with Ashton and Rowan though… if it meant he didn’t have to clean up that particular mess.
“Tunia, have you really raised Lily’s son as a servant?” Rowan asked. “A servant who doesn’t even know his own name? What exactly have you told him?”
“As little as possible,” Mrs. Dursley said softly. Her tone was unlike anything that Boy had ever heard her use.
Boy knew now that his name was apparently Harry, but he was having a hard time digesting that. He’d been Boy for as long as he could remember. So, to suddenly begin thinking of himself as anything else would take time.
“You mean he doesn’t know anything?” Ashton asked. “Anything at all?”
Okay, that was taking things a little too far, in Boy’s opinion. He knew some things. He could read, add, and subtract. He knew how to cook, and how to do a myriad of household chores, including how to wash dishes, take out the trash, do laundry, dust, and vacuum.
He was good with plants and gardening, at least with the ones in the back garden. He’d never seen the ones in the front garden, beyond the occasional glimpse through the front windows of the house. So he didn’t know about them.
But to say he didn’t know anything at all… although, he did find himself fascinated with the bird that used to be Mr. Dursley’s teacup. Was that magic? But, how could it be? Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had been very clear. There was no such thing as magic. Though Boy couldn’t explain just how Ashton had pointed that stick of his at a teacup and with some words that Boy didn’t understand, turn the cup into a bird.
Of course, he also knew that he’d be in trouble if Mr. and Mrs. Dursley knew what he was thinking. He was Boy. A freak. And freaks weren’t supposed to have their own opinions. Their betters… normal people like Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and Master Dudley… were supposed to tell Boy what his opinions were.
Petunia sighed, as she stood up and made a point of not looking at her husband, as she said, “Take him and go.”
Ashton and Rowan studied their older sister’s face, for a moment, before they nodded, and guided their nephew from the room.
Boy wouldn’t have gone with them, except that Mrs. Dursley had told him to.
When they reached the front hallway and were nearing the stairs, Rowan said, “Grab anything in your room that you want to take with you and then we’ll go, okay, Harry?”
It took a moment for Boy to realize that Rowan was speaking to him. Yes, he’d been told his name was Harry, but it was still very new to him. He was much more used to Boy, so Harry just didn’t sound right to his ears.
He nodded, however, and moved over to his cupboard.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Ashton said when his nephew opened the door of the cupboard under the stairs and he suddenly wanted to throw up the almost non-existent contents of his stomach when he realized that the cupboard was Harry’s room.
Boy looked at Ashton, confused, as he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Rowan told him to go to his room and get anything he wanted to take with him. Well, he did, so why did Ashton seem upset?
Rowan put a hand on his brother’s arm and said, “Ash, breathe. I know it’s horrible, but we’re going to take him home. And we’ll make sure he has the life and childhood that Lily and James would have wanted him to have.”
Ashton nodded, as he watched his nephew grab his meager belongings. Most of which seemed to be more clothing like what he was currently wearing. Clothes that both Ashton and Rowan were, even without being able to see their sons in the last four years, pretty sure that Harry could wear with his three cousins and still have plenty of room.
Honestly, some of their sister-in-law Molly’s kids could probably join them.
When it looked like Harry was finished, Rowan asked, “Ready to go?”
Boy nodded.
“Okay then, hang on to me and don’t let go until I tell you to,” Rowan said.
Boy nodded, as he put on the knapsack that held his belongings and then wrapped his arms around Rowan’s legs. The next thing he knew, he felt like he was being shoved through a straw.
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Gideon and Fabian Prewett weren’t exactly thrilled to be back at St. Mungo’s after such a short time away. After four years in the Janus Thickey Ward, they’d been hoping to go at least a few months before they found themselves returning to the hospital.
It wasn’t meant to be, however.
After being cleared by their healers and heading home to the Prewett family seat, Strathington Hall, Gideon and Fabian were rather disappointed to learn that their sons weren’t home. As nobody had expected Gideon and Fabian to wake up when they did, their aunt and uncle, Ignatius and Lucretia Prewett, and their elder brother, Bilius, had taken Jaxon, Landon, and London on a two-month tour of the Far East, leaving only three days before Gideon and Fabian woke up.
It was while Gideon and Fabian were talking with their mother, Aunt Esther, and Grandaunt Muriel about the possibility of cutting their sons’ trip short that Rowan’s patronus, which took the form of a Scottish wildcat, ran into the room and told Gideon and Fabian that Ashton and Rowan had retrieved their nephew from their sister’s house. It had been the next part of the message, however, that had Gideon and Fabian returning to St. Mungo’s, as while Rowan didn’t go into any specific details, he made it clear that Harry’s home life up until now had been less than ideal.
All three of the elder Prewett women were surprised at this, as they’d always believed, like most in the Wix world, that Harry Potter was living in the lap of luxury that befitted the heir to one of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses. To learn that was not the case… was both surprising and unsettling.
“Ash,” Gideon said as he strode into the private waiting room and spotted his husband. “What’s wrong? Where’s Row and our nephew?”
Ashton delayed answering Gideon’s question by hugging Gideon and giving him a kiss on the lips, before doing the same with Fabian. He was married to both of them, after all, just as his brother Rowan was married to both of them. A quirk of Wix law going back to the days of King Arthur, however, meant that each of the four men in their polyamorous quartet had three husbands.
As despite being identical twins, Gideon and Fabian were also married to each other, just as Ashton and Rowan were. The two sets of twins were what was known in the Wix world as magical or soul-bound twins.
Gideon and Fabian shared a single soul, split between two bodies, just as Ashton and Rowan did. Not all twins had this connection, in fact, most didn’t, but for those that did, it created a very close and unbreakable bond.
Soul-bound twins tended to share everything with each other, including such things as their first kisses and losing their virginity to each other. Where twins that weren’t soul-bound might find the very idea of having sex with their twin repulsive, for soul-bound twins, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
Some families were known to produce soul-bound twins at a greater frequency than others. One such example, was the Prewett line, creating them at such a regular frequency that unique among the noble lines the Prewetts always had two Lords who shared the title of Lord Prewett and all the duties and responsibilities that went with it.
It was, in fact, a requirement of inheritance in the Prewett line. You couldn’t be Lord or Heir Prewett unless you were a soul-bound twin. This did, sometimes, mean that the title didn't pass in a direct line from father to son, as it instead went to whoever was the next closest pair of soul-bound twins to the current Lords Prewett. When they'd had their encounter with the Death Eaters that put them in comas, Gideon and Fabian had been the Heirs Prewett.
Sadly, one of the first things they'd learned after returning home and talking with their mother, Aunt Esther, and Grandaunt Muriel, was that the former Lords Prewett, their father Amadeus and Uncle Theophilus had died two years ago, making them the new Lords Prewett, while Fabian's and Rowan's twin sons, Landon and London, were the new Heirs Prewett.
“Row is with Harry and the healer,” Ashton explained. “Harry, well, he was nervous about being left alone with a stranger in a strange place, so Row stayed with him. Not that Harry knows Row and I much more than he knows the healer, but since Petunia told him to go with us, he trusts us.”
“Your patronus suggested that he’d had a less than ideal home life?” Fabian asked as he sat down on one of the waiting room’s sofas, with him and Gideon sandwiching Ashton between them.
Ashton blew out a frustrated breath. “That’s putting it mildly. I knew Petunia was bitter and jealous of the fact that Lily, Row, and I had magic and she didn’t, but I never thought she’d take it this far. Though I imagine Vernon is the reason more than anything.”
“How far?” Gideon asked, his tone clearly indicating that he was bracing himself for the worst.
“He didn’t even know his own name, Gid,” Ashton said. “Until he was told today, he thought his name was Boy. He didn’t know today was his birthday, and he knows next to nothing about his parents, beyond their names, and that they’d died, according to Vernon, in a car crash.”
Gideon and Fabian looked understandably upset at this news, but they remained silent, each giving one of Ashton’s hands a comforting squeeze, as they each rubbed one of his shoulders.
“If he knew before today that his mother was Petunia’s sister,” Ashton continued, “then he didn’t acknowledge it. He calls them Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and Master Dudley. Petunia and Vernon apparently tell him daily that there’s no such thing as magic. And as if all of this wasn’t bad enough, they also dress Harry in Dudley's castoffs and work him like their own personal servant… doing all the things that we employ over a hundred staff for by himself.”
“What?!” Fabian asked, the outrage and indignation clear in his voice.
“You heard me correctly,” Ashton replied. “I really wish you hadn’t and that it wasn’t the truth but it is. Before I left the exam room to wait for you, the healer had begun their preliminary examination.”
Gideon and Fabian immediately pulled their husband into a three-way hug when they realized that he had tears in his eyes, as he said, “Once his shirt was removed, there were several fresh bruises, cuts, and burns on his chest and abdomen. Lash marks on his back, and he’s so emaciated that you can see all of his bones.”
Shaking his head, as he leaned into his husbands’ embraces, he said, “I’d noticed that his face seemed a little too gaunt, but I didn’t want to believe my eyes. I wanted to think that I was just seeing things or that it was a trick of the light. But once his shirt was off and I could see… I could see…”
Ashton didn’t say anything else, as he began weeping, prompting Gideon to pull Ashton onto his lap, as Fabian moved into the spot Ashton had been a moment earlier. The Prewett twins didn’t say anything as they comforted not only Ashton but each other. They hadn’t seen Harry yet, but from Ashton’s description, they could imagine what he looked like and what they were imagining hurt their hearts.
It was this way, about twenty minutes later, that they were found by one Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.
Clearing his throat, Albus watched as the three men separated and turned to look at him. The venerable headmaster smiled, his eyes twinkling, as he said, “When I’d heard that you’d awoken from your comas, I was both surprised and elated. It’s good to have you back among the land of the conscious.”
“Hello, Albus,” Gideon said, with a nod, as first Fabian, and then Ashton greeted their former headmaster.
“How did you find us?” Fabian asked. “I would have thought you’d have gone to the Hall when you found out we were awake and had been released.”
“I did, in fact, go to Strathington Hall,” Albus answered. “It was there that your mother told me that Ashton and Rowan had brought young Harry to St. Mungo’s?”
Ashton nodded. “It only seemed right once we took him from our sister’s house. He’s not in a good way, Albus.”
“That’s an understatement,” Rowan said, as he entered the room and nodded at Albus. “Hello, Albus.”
“Hello Rowan,” Albus said, not surprising anyone. The headmaster always had been one of the select few people who could tell both the Prewett and Evans twins apart. “What is wrong with, Harry?”
Rowan sighed, as he walked across the room and took a seat next to his three husbands. “I’m afraid that telling you what isn’t wrong with him might be easier. The list would certainly be shorter.”
“Where is he now?” Gideon asked. “I thought he was nervous about being left alone with the healer?”
“He was,” Rowan confirmed. “I stayed with him through Healer Strout’s examination and then I stayed with him until he fell asleep. The Healer deemed it necessary to put him in a magically-induced healing coma.”
Albus moved over to sit down in a chair near the four younger men, as he felt a bit weak in the knees at that most unwelcome news. He wasn’t a healer, but he knew enough to know that healers did not put patients in healing comas for minor injuries. You had to have sustained a grievous injury, or dozens of less serious ones before such a drastic step was even considered.
“He’s severely malnourished,” Rowan said. “The diagnostic shows that he’s been left in a state of near-constant starvation for about three or four years now. His magic has been working overtime to make up for the lack of food and to heal numerous injuries.”
“What kind of injuries?” Fabian asked. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, but if he was going to be helping to raise his nephew, then he knew he needed to know.
“His magic has healed most of the oldest ones,” Rowan explained. “Though they still showed up on the diagnostic. Multiple severe diaper rashes and urinary tract infections, multiple broken bones, strained and sprained muscles, bruises, cuts, first and second-degree burns…” Rowan trailed off for a moment, looking like he wanted to cry, before he added, “…and that’s not counting the crisscross of lacerations to his back caused by repeated lashings. Healer Strout believes that they’re from a leather belt and that they began about two years ago.”
“Merlin’s hairy balls,” Albus muttered, prompting both sets of twins to nod in agreement.
Pulling out the Elder Wand, Albus said, “Expecto Patronum!”
A moment later, his phoenix patronus was flying out of the hospital with a message for Madam Amelia Bones, the newly appointed head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, telling her to take a team of Aurors to Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, to arrest Vernon and Petunia Dursley for multiple counts of abuse to a magical child and to contact the muggle child welfare office to put Dudley in protective custody.
“If I’d known that they would mistreat him so grievously, I never would have placed him there,” Albus said.
Both sets of twins looked up at this, as Gideon asked, “What do you mean? You mean you’re the one who placed Harry with Lily’s sister?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Albus said. “However, it’s not like I had much choice. His godmother was dead, his godfather was arrested and sent to Azkaban, you four were comatose, as a werewolf there’s no way the Ministry would ever have allowed Remus Lupin to raise him even though he asked to…”
“Surely there was a magical family that could have taken him?” Fabian asked. “The Potters are not without powerful allies and friends.”
“True,” Albus agreed. “But none of them could provide the protection that living with Petunia did.”
“Protection? What protection?” Ashton asked, his tone incredulous. “It doesn’t sound like he was very protected.”
“I’m referring to protection from Voldemort’s Death Eaters,” Albus said. “Many of them were out for blood… Harry’s blood… after their Lord’s defeat. As they well proved with their attack on Frank and Alice Longbottom. Before she died, however, Lily cast a powerful blood protection ritual that would protect Harry from Voldemort and the Death Eaters if something happened to James and she sacrificed herself for Harry.”
Albus shook his head sadly, “The ritual provides powerful protection so that Voldemort and his Death Eaters can’t touch him until he reaches his majority, so long as Harry can call the home of Lily’s blood home. I’m sure she intended for Ashton and Rowan to fulfill that role… however, since you four were attacked and rendered comatose…”
Rowan shook his head. “With our parents dead, and both of them only children, Petunia was the only option. I suppose the ritual wouldn’t have worked if they’d gone to live at the Hall with Jaxon, Landon, and London?”
Shaking his head, Albus said, “I’m afraid not. While they are of Lily’s blood, as her brothers’ sons, the ritual did still require a conscious adult guardian of her blood. So being only a year older than Harry himself, Jaxon, Landon, and London didn’t qualify.”
“Well, we qualify now right?” Ashton asked.
Albus nodded. “Yes, you do, and I’ll get to work transferring the blood protection wards to your home immediately. Honestly, I would have preferred to place Harry with you two from the start, but as you weren’t conscious at the time, Petunia was the last resort.”
With a sad shake of his head, Albus added, “It was either her or let the protections that Lily set up fade, which would mean that she sacrificed her life for nothing. I’m sure you’ll all agree that wasn’t a suitable option.”
Both sets of twins nodded in agreement. As much as they hated the treatment that Harry had received at the hands of Vernon and Petunia, he was still alive and there was hope for the future. Without the protections that Lily had died to create, however, there was every possibility that the remaining uncaptured Death Eaters would have taken their revenge against Harry by now and he’d be dead.
Thus, all five men in the waiting room that day could take some solace in the fact that Harry was now getting the treatment he needed and the Dursleys would pay for what they did.
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To be continued…