Chapter Text
Nahlah Sunflower, a kind and mature fairy sat on the roof of St. Mungo's absentmindedly humming to herself. Below her she watched as so many people entered and left the building, so many mortals had to visit hospitals. It was quite pitiful really, at least to Nahlah it was, the fact that so many of them needed to get specialized help. It was a wonder their species lasted as long as they did. And don't get the fairy started on the muggles, they truly were a wonder to have survived at all. Oh well, Nahlah was content with the knowledge that she would outlive all these mortals and even these mortals children. Besides, pitying the mortals wasn't what she was here to do. No, she was waiting as she glanced up at the moon, still pale but that would only be for a moment.
Soon she heard the flutter of wings as another fairy, her nephew, land next to her. Nahlah wore a simple dress made of leaves while her nephew, taking after her sister, wore a brightly coloured purple leaf with various berries as accessories. Far too flashy for the older fairy's liking but she wasn't going to tell her nephew that. Poor boy already had to deal with her sister and Nahlah knew more than anyone how crazy their family could be. It was nice that at least one member of her family was on her side. Most of her family would rather squander their lives away bossing around the lesser magical beings to give themselves a sense of worth. Nahlah and her nephew, Paytah Sunflower, were the only ones who didn't need to boss people around. The older fairy hoped her nephew would become like her, seeing the bigger picture and influencing the world.
"Auntie," Paytah spoke up as his aunt continued to swing her legs, "is there a reason we're here?"
"Of course my dearest, most favourite, nephew," Nahlah grinned flying up and throwing an arm around her nephew. "I'm here to give a Fairy's Kiss and you're here to watch and be amazed."
Paytah almost grinned at the first of his aunt's words before the last part registered. A Fairy's Kiss was no small event, few fairy lines could do so - the Sunflower line being one of them - and it's rare for them give it out. A Fairy's Kiss meant granting a normal child the powers of an elf, going so far as to even turn the child into an elf. It wasn't forbidden nor was it frowned upon but it was rare, incredible rare. Elves were not a numerous species and while the twenty clans - comprised of the subspecies of elves - was quite large they were still a minority compared to the wizards and witches of the world. Even the fairies outnumbered the elves. Elves were also, unbiasedly, very powerful and many magical creatures were compelled to listen to them.
More to the point, Paytah also knew that this boy would be considered a new elf. He would have no existing correlation to the Twenty Clans, these clans were basically families all elves were under and all served their leader. A new elf could disrupt some plans and events the other elves were planning depending on the type of person he turned out to be. Nahlah obviously knew this so Paytah didn't bring it up but he did wonder what caused his aunt to do this. Before he could bring it up however his eyes caught sight of the moon.
It was blood red.
None of the mortals down below them seemed to have a clue as they could not see it. Only few powerful wizards and witches could be able to see it. The Flamel's came to mind. At the sight of the red moon the young fairy suddenly understood what was happening and nodded to his aunt who merely smiled in return.
"Congratulations nephew, you will be able to bare witness to a legend being born," the fairy laughed as her nephew suddenly took on this fierce look of determination. "Relax dearest nephew, everything will be fine."
Jumping off the rooftop both fairies, who previously were around four feet, turned into small fairies barely over ten inches. They were still rather visible, much more than a pixie would be, but they also used some fae magic to make them disappear. Flying down to the windows both fairies peaked into one of the rooms. Inside a redheaded woman was holding a child as her husband held the other. Two other men - one of which was a werewolf - watched with glee as a third man looked at them all contently, looking as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be. Both fairies were about to enter when another man and woman walked in, these two older and one was very much unwelcomed.
Laylah hissed out a curse as Albus Dumbledore marched through the door with his lapdog Minerva McGonagall. Minerva was fourth on the Fae Court's list of powerful wizards and witches but that only measured raw power. Minerva's skill put her easily up there with Nicholas at second place, Pernelle sat at first and Dumbledore at third. Dark Lords were not counted as part of the test. Paytah wisely moved backwards allowing his aunt to figure something out. As much as he wanted to be in there he knew the more of them there the more riskier it would be.
"Minerva, thank Merlin," the redheaded woman sighed in relief, "I've only just given birth and these clotpoles are already talking about Quidditch and pranks."
"Lils it's only natural," the man holding the little boy cooed at the baby before grinning at his wife. "They're Marauder children."
"I don't recall seeing a Marauder push two children out of hole not even bigger than their legs," the red haired woman growled and the man took on a sheepish look.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Minerva chastised and Dumbledore chuckled softly. Stepping forward she took the babe from the man's arms and brought it back down to the red head. Holding both babies the woman cooed at both in joy. Laylah took her chance whizzing over there.
"In my defence I was talking about the maps they'd need to get through Hogwarts," the larger man spoke up causing the other men to laugh as the women and Dumbledore looked a little confused.
"No doubt Wormtail, no doubt," the dark haired man who stood close to the werewolf exclaimed clapping 'Wormtail' on the back joyously.
Dumbledore was engrossed in the antics of the Marauders, especially when Sirius started talking about how he couldn't wait until they were old enough to ride Padfoot. The thought, of which, caused Lily to almost faint, already having been exhausted from pushing out two human beings. Therefore no one noticed when the small fairy flew down and kissed the sleeping baby, whose name would be Harry Potter, on the forehead. Quickly the rather old fairy flew out and took her nephew far away from Dumbledore not wanting him to know of their presence.
"Auntie," Paytah spoke uponxe they were far enough away, "why did you only kiss one of them. I mean, usually twins are turned together. Not even vampires only turn one twin, taking away one twin is taboo. Right? Oh, Merlin what if Her Majesty discovers this?" At this point Paytah was becoming nearly hysterical at the fact that he just witnessed a taboo.
"Calm down nephew," Laylah grinned, "Fate has plans for the other Potter and I'll allow her to have her fun. The other boy, however, is destined to be an elf. A very special elf if all those rumours are to be believed."
With that they flew off into the night setting in motions that would change the course of history.
-–—-–—-
Ollivander had walked the Earth for over two thousand years, he was, without a doubt, the oldest elf alive. The rest had already moved on, whether that be through death or perhaps they walked to another plane. Ollivander still remembered how many had travelled to Avalon. But not Garrick Ollivander, no he'd walk this Earth until death took him herself. Perhaps that was the curse of being a Moon Elf, he thought idly, always looking for the next great adventure. Contrary to popular belief Garrick did not remain in his shop for entire years. He worked in the summer months, making wands and finding new components. But in the school months he was usually off finding new adventures. Like a proper Moon Elf.
Sighing Garrick looked in the mirror at his aging face and chuckled slightly. Unlike, quite literally, every other elf, Garrick enjoyed growing old. He liked to see his once beautiful face, more beautiful then any other elf, grow old and withered. It helped him connect with the mortals, another thing no other elf would want to do. Garrick even allowed his body to feel age and let his bones creak and groan, it was the most horrid part of growing up but Garrick still took some joy in it. It helped, he supposed, living with the mortals for so long he might as well feel somewhat like them.
It was always the same, a hundred and some years he'd play whatever Ollivander heir he currently was before meeting his demise. Then his grandson would 'return' to England where Garrick would have a closed casket funeral, his funerals were attended by hundreds upon hundreds of wizards and witches as he was the one to make all their wands. Then his grandson would reopen his shop and continue his trade, beautiful and young. Thus the cycle continued. Of course, just to be clear, he never died it was all fake and the 'grandson' was just him de-aged.
Sighing to himself Garrick watched the stars and the moon smiling to it as if it was an old friend. Raising a tea cup to it Garrick began to drink when he saw the moon turn blood red.
"Ah, old friend," Garrick exclaimed, "is that anger? Fear? No, no, is it, excitement?"
The moon didn't answer him before it stopped being red and turned back into it's gorgeous pale face. Garrick nodded to himself curious as to why the moon hadn't replied before he felt a strong magical surge. Turning his head he felt a shift in St. Mungo's.
"Oh what is this," Garrick jumped up excited as a child at Yule, "a new elf, kissed under a blood moon." Garrick could barely contain his excitement this was all so spectacular. He didn't know exactly what Laylah knew, as she knew fairy secrets, but he did know it was blessed the child born under a red moon. "And are they, yes they are. They're a Moon Elf, just like you and I."
Garrick laughed up at the moon which shimmered in reply, dancing slightly itself. "Oh old friend, I might stay in this form for a little while longer. This might be an exhilarating few years."
-–—-–—-
Albus Dumbledore was very happy to be playing with the young Potter children. He loved the way their eyes brightened as he conducted magic right before their eyes. Lily was taking a well deserved nap and James had already gone back to work. While Fleamont and Euphemia were in the other room putting the kettle on. The rest of the Marauders would be here soon, rarely leaving the young children's sides. Especially after Albus gave them the prophesy - after this he was going to visit the Longbottoms. The thought of the prophesy caused Albus to go numb as he stepped away from the kids and allowed them to stare in wonder at everything else.
Albus didn't like prophesies, in fact he would rather have not told the Ministry about it but he was obligated to. Albus couldn't allow himself to be above the very laws of the Wizengamot, as long as those laws were fair. And having the Unspeakables monitor and protect the prophesy was a given. However, Albus chose to not dwell on it now that the Potters and Longbottoms were as safe as could be. Now he would work on dealing with Voldemort because once the Dark Lord was gone the prophesy would be nullified. Then these children would get to live their lives as they were meant to. Albus was sure of this.
Albus had seen child soldiers in the war with Grindelwald, children lying about their ages or just conscripted to fight in Grindelwald's armies. Luckily he had been able to stop any children from marching into this war but he knew that was only a matter of time. Right now Voldemort wasn't using children only because he didn't trust children, if he became desperate for soldiers Albus knew that it would be the younger generation he would turn towards. He couldn't allow that, so many kids had died in both the muggle and magical world wars, it would be horrible to see it happen again.
Brushing the thoughts away Albus instead decided to prioritize getting rid of Voldemort. He wouldn't allow more children to march off into war.
-–—-–—-
It was a year later that Albus' promise faded away and the prophesy came true. Sirius was flying his motorcycle with Remus through the air when they decided to visit Peter. They had seen the man yesterday but they still wanted to make sure he was doing alright. Wormtail was isolated because of his position as secret keeper, especially after they discovered Mundungus had sold information to Voldemort about who the real secret keeper was. Mundungus was now spending time in Azkaban for his treachery, even Albus didn't want to give him a second chance. And hadn't that been a scary revelation when even Albus Second Chance Dumbledore refused to give the man a second chance.
So flying down to their rat friend's hideaway they were shocked to find the wards were down. Not just down but ripped apart, Sirius could see bits of it flying in the air through his magically enchanted goggles. Racing down to the ground Sirius barely turned the engine off before he was bolting into the house. He smelt it before he saw it. Rushing into the living room, the doors all blasted open, Sirius saw two dead Death Eaters and one Peter Pettigrew sitting in a chair obviously tortured. His right hand, his wand hand, was gone and Peter was barely alive. Sirius was quick to begin doing casting healing spells as Remus cleaned off the man's arms, as Peter was currently shirtless, and cauterized the wound. The spell was crude but it did it's job and didn't send Peter into shock. Then again the torture might have already done that.
"Peter, Wormtail, buddy are you alright?" Sirius asked and Peter wearily opened his eyes.
"It's okay Peter, it's okay, shhhhh, it's us," Remus whispered hiding the arm away from Peter. He didn't need to see the damage done to him.
"Ritual," Peter muttered almost incoherently, "Voldemort spoke of a ritual. He took my hand...James...Lily." by this point Peter was close to passing out while Sirius tried his best to keep him awake.
"Remus, Remus you have to go to Godric's Hallow," Sirius ordered frantically and Remus realized he was rooted to the spot. "Remus! Go, I'll call a healer. Go!"
The final shout caused Remus to go racing towards the door and Sirius heard his motorcycle being driven away. They couldn't apparate near enough because of the wards around Godric's Hallow. Quickly Sirius ran to the floo and called St. Mungo's with a couple of medi-witches instantly rushing through. No wards slowed them down as Voldemort seemed to have ripped right through them. Sirius was appalled that no one had been alerted and would sure to check in with Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the two were the ones who should have been alerted. Sirius brushed aside the dark thoughts on why they hadn't come once they were alerted. Were they dead or traitors? Sirius didn't want to think about that.
Sirius stayed with Peter throughout the trip to St. Mungo's and remained there waiting for Remus. The werewolf showed up an hour later and kissed his mate fiercely before telling him what had happened. James and Lily had been away at the time as they were planning on getting some candy for them and some costumes for the kids. However, both James' parents had been home, babysitting the twins, they were both dead. Voldemort had killed them first and both had, apparently, fought valiantly but ultimately failed.
Sirius didn't hear much after the declaration that both of them were dead. Tears had already welled up at the thought of one of his best friends being tortured mercilessly but now his adopted parents were dead. It was far too much for the young wizard to handle and he collapsed into Remus' arms. Tears streamed down his face as Remus tried his best to comfort him. It didn't help when the Healers came and told them that Peter had fallen into a coma and they didn't know when he would wake up. The only good news was that the kids were alright but even that was tarnished when Remus told Sirius that Charlie had been marked.
Remus had always been the most compassionate of the Marauders but he just felt himself blurting everything out. It was as if he had all this information welling up inside him and he couldn't keep it from his lips. Not in front of Sirius who he always felt he needed to tell everything to. He needed to tell Sirius, his beloved dog and mate. He knew it didn't help Sirius but that didn't stop him from saying anything. In the end they were escorted to a private room where they cried by themselves. Away from prying eyes, not that either of them really noticed. They just felt so sad yet so numb at the same time.
-–—-–—-
Albus Dumbledore was not happy as he sat at his desk. The rest of the wizarding world was cheering the end of Voldemort and his dark reign but not Albus. Even two months after his defeat Albus was still bitter about the results. Charlie had been marked and though it pained him to admit it that meant that Charlie would have to fight Voldemort. After all there was a difference between trying to stop a prophesy yet to be started and trying to stop an already active prophesy. That latter was just plain foolish.
Sitting at his desk he procured a bit of dwarven scotch before placing it in front of him. James and Sirius had helped him put away a lot of Death Eaters but some had still slipped through their grasp. Malfoy, for example, was getting off with a fine, and not even a hefty one considering the Malfoy wealth. Rosier had been subjected to Azkaban and though the main Crabbe and Goyle heads had managed to evade Azkaban with Malfoy their brothers and sisters were put there. Besides Malfoy only the Rowle family managed to get out unscathed.
Now Albus had a child he needed to ready for war and Death Eater families to watch over. It was going to be a long dozen years that was for sure.