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Chapter Text

Sky blue eyes ringed with silver ringed around their pupils…. Then Deep Ocean blue ringed with an inner pale grey around their pupils…. 

Cynric awoke with a heavy breathing gasp of air, emerald eyes widening then shuddered as he put his head in his lightly tanned hands, his shoulders sagged amidst the thoughts that there had to be a reason he almost always saw the same two separate eyes in his dreams lately… 

“It can’t be… Can it? No, it’s not that, most definitely not.” He refused to admit what those dreams of those eyes could mean, he had two pups to care for, he didn’t have time for any of… That . He didn’t have the time to try and balance things between his pups and any sort of romance, besides the last couple of times he tried it; it ended terribly. His magic was so strong, it had been for such a long time… He had noticed it fluctuating more often recently over the last three years of raising Randall and Kairos but that could only be due to the stress of everything with him fearing that the Letter to Hogwarts possibly finds its way here to Arda, to Middle Earth, and if that happens then it means that Dumbledore could find a way here and fuck everything up.  

Both of his pups were now the age of ten and nine years old respectively, compared to how they looked when they first arrived here at the age of five and four it was a startling amazing difference. His tired gaze swept around the deep ocean blue room that faded to a sky blue at the top of the room among the walls he painted with misty mountains in the distance with a black ceiling that had the stars painted above with a crescent moon in the direct middle. Bilbo had insisted that he take this room he made his own, a wry smile cracked onto his lips. The smaller man had been highly stubborn with this, he wouldn’t have minded taking the couch in the parlour room however with the Hobbit’s stubbornness the smaller had won that battle. 

His thoughts uneasily drifted back to the two very different sets of blue eyes that looked frighteningly similar to the colours he had painted the walls of his comforting room. A small frown tugged at his lips, “It can’t be that.. Right? Why here and now? Haaa, doesn’t matter because that’s definitely not what the dream means.” He murmured aloud softly in confusion with a shake of his head then sighed as he slowly stood up and stretched his arms above his head, well since he was up now he may as well get started on cooking breakfast if Bilbo wasn’t up and doing it already. With this last thought in mind he strode out of the bedroom and into the kitchen… 

Little did Cynric know that this very evening he would be meeting one of those sets of eyes he had been having dreams of these last few months.

509 words total(not counting author note here), this isn’t the prologue this is just the summary/introduction to the fan fiction, well the full thing anyways. The prologue will be out soon hopefully! 

Peace out, Silence!

Chapter Text

September 8th, 1983

When Cynric finally figured out where his second Godson resided this meant he was finally able to start refining his escape planning with his Godsons. This Dumbledore was a threat, a far bigger threat than any he had dealt with before in his past lives… Considering the fact he has dealt with four Albus Dumbledore’s-the fourth being this one-two of them with him being Harry Potter, and one when he was Lord Arcturus Black. Yes, he was more than aware that this version of Albus Dumbledore he knows takes the cake from all of the ones he has met and known throughout all his lives. His fifth life now, and out of the five he had to deal with a manipulative Dumbledore from… Well… All three past lives alongside this one. It seems to be a trend of sorts. The man in question thought, lightly tanned skin and fluffy silver hair that ended at the middle of his back sighed heavily with a shake of his head as his emerald eyes trailed around before locking with Griphooks’ beady gleaming onyx eyes. He nodded ever so slightly while he strode towards the back of the lobby where he knew Griphook would lead him into the back to talk with his Account Managers.

Right, I also have a meeting with Lord Arcturus Black after the meeting with the Head Account Managers… Cynric thought absentmindedly while his left hand held slightly in the air, letting his scarred fingers lightly brush and skim against the rugged stonework of Gringotts. Gringotts for some reason had always felt oddly familiar to him, but he knew not why… He never helped create Gringotts in any of his past-lives, none had been before the age of when Gringotts had been created after all, it was just odd that the bank felt so bloody familiar to him, not to mention completely and utterly baffling to himself as well. 

Pushing the thoughts off to the back of his head for him to try and think on later he looked ahead and nodded his head to Griphook when he saw the Goblin walk up to him. “Griphook, would you mind leading me to where the meeting with my Account Managers will be?” His voice was polite as he asked, he knew better than to order a Goblin about, that was just asking for trouble, and trouble he did not want. He didn’t bother trying to keep track of all the turns he was led through until eventually he was shown to a pair of large elegantly carved doors with threads of silver and gold spiraling and swirling patterns intertwined into the stained, dark pine wood. 

The doors were pushed open gracefully as the man sauntered smoothly into the room and cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth. “May your vaults forever be full Head Account Manager Gribeclaw of the Mortis Vaults, Talonhook of the Peverell and therein the Head Account Manager Goblin of the direct Branch Family Potter Vaults, Shoresaxe of the Gryffindor Vaults, Nanok of the Ravenclaw Vaults, and Konok of the Hufflepuff Vaults.” The man in question bowed to them all at the waist then straightened himself as he strode forward then sat down in the only free chair, a somberly grim expression on his normally cheerful face. “Let's get started shall we…?” 

“Lord Cynric, I looked into the branch family Potter of the Head Peverell’s as you asked, what I found is truly disturbing.” Cynric’s emerald eyes pinned onto the tallest Goblin. A pale-skinned Goblin that stood about four feet and two inches with a round face, sharp cheekbones and a blunted nose instead of the normal sharp ones along with sharply upturned ears that looked fairly elvish, if he wasn’t a fairly staut and heavily muscled that wore heavy gleaming silver armour with two hand axes sheathed on either side of his hips with a large circular shield resting on his back, he wore no helmet which showed the clear sneer of disgust on his face while he watched Talonhooks sharply pointed ears pin against either side of his bald head. “To put simply, it’s an utter mess . I am truly disgusted by the mere glimpse of the state I saw before I looked further into it, and I am wishing I had cleaved his head off of his shoulders myself with my axes for Scribehook’s failure. I had the guards drag the former head Account Manager of the Potter Vaults off to be tried properly in Goblin court tomorrow for his crimes, he knew all along where your Godson was, Lord Cynric.” His brows furrowed angrily as the young man clenched his jaw tightly, his whole expression darkened in anger.

“I contacted him multiple times asking and even ordering him once to tell me if he knew where my Godson resided.” He watched as Talonhook’s beady dark-brown eyes softened slightly before the Goblin sighed heavily, “I am afraid to say that Dumbledore has truly messed up the Potter Vaults, we might be able to salvage them but the chances are not very high currently. The leech that gave Dumbledore illegal access is removed  and going into trial the next morning. Dumbledore is no longer able to get his illegal funds and I will be searching further into where the money he has stolen from Young Heir Potter has gone and get every Knut back into those Vaults. The Peverell Vaults are doing perfectly fine and still gaining a steady amount of money as we speak due to the proper investments you made, this is my report.” 

Cynric dipped his head to Talonhook then trailed his gaze silently around the table at the other goblins with a raised brow, “Thank you, Talonhook, I trust you will make the correct decisions regarding the Potter vaults. Though I would like for you to pick a second successor if only in case something happens to you for you to teach them how to manage the Potter Vaults properly. The Potters are a direct Branch Family to the Peverells, and I would prefer for my Godson to keep his family namesake unless he decides otherwise in the future.” His voice was low, soothing and calming like that of gentle waves lapping at a sandy beach with a faint wind playfully twirling some of the sand around in the air. “I also trust you will keep any further attempts from Dumbledore to get into the Potter Vaults blocked and barred until we have enough evidence gathered against the man for the crimes?” A sharp nod from the pale skinned Goblin in question, “By my Axes I swear it.” 

“Good.” A throat cleared from the Goblin to the right of Talonhook, a Goblin that stood about three feet and five inches with dark-gold skin and a leanly muscled frame. He wore a dark green woolly shirt that had a leather chest plate and one pauldron over his left shoulder and a pair of simple light brown pants that were covered by thick patches of leather on his thighs, knees and shins with a pair of dark grey leather boots over it. He had rounded short ears instead of the normal upturned pointed ears that a Goblin had with an oval-shaped face and beady amber eyes that glowed slightly in the lighting with a short bow and a quiver strapped to his back. “Yes Konok?” His silver brow raised more at this as his gut sank in his chest, this couldn’t be good.. Most of the time his Head Account Managers or Account Managers did not talk to him in this every three months meeting unless something was truly wrong… Of course he was only keeping an eye on his Godsons Vaults for them until the pups were old enough to take control of them, the Hufflepuff Vaults belonged rightfully to his oldest Godson-mainly because he wanted nothing to due with his original blood mothers family so Alice had been the next best choice and now it went back to him so he was holding it until Neville came of age-Neville Frank Longbottom, who he still had not just yet won custody over with Augusta Longbottom. She kept forgetting that Neville was not his father and it was pissing him off big time, his Godson's confidence had gone down the drain quite a lot since he last saw him. What the fuck can be wrong with the Hufflepuff Vaults?! I can’t look into the Longbottom ones because I am not related directly to them so I don’t know what the state of those Vaults are for Neville, I can only keep an eye on this one for him. He thought irritably at this with a faint twitch of his left eye. 

“Lord Cynric, we have a problem at the Hufflepuff Vaults, Lady Augusta Longbottom is petitioning for control over them due to her currently having Neville in her custody.” Emerald met with Amber, “I am doing everything I can right now to keep her out but she is being awfully more stubborn than normal… This could very well be due to Dumbledore, he could have influenced her currently skewed mental state into trying for control over the Hufflepuff Vaults but as long as your Godson is in her grasp she has a chance, however small it is with your current influence in the Wizengamot, to gain control over these Vaults.” 

“Even with me being the rightful and direct descendant of lady Helga Hufflepuff due to my… Original Blood Mothers bloodline?” His head tilted slightly with a slight frown, “I had named Alice my heir but with her current state that status has automatically moved onto Neville, so I am wondering how she gained access to this informati-did Dumbledore get his greedy claws into this sealed information by Goblin or bribing someone within Wizengamot, Konok?” He barked sharply as his magic swirled tightly around his body in his anger before he breathed out sharply to control it. He didn’t need to accidentally wreck anything in his anger… Least of all Gringotts itself.

“A little of both, I have already ordered the guards to take the Goblin who leaked this information into prison to hold for his trial tomorrow afternoon after the trial for the former Head Account Manager of the Potter vaults, Scribehook. Dumbledore must have caught wind of the rumours spreading in Wizengamot about who controlled the seating for Hufflepuff’s voting then bribed Jayback for the information. I will be searching for a new apprentice to train for my position due my Apprentice’s failure to deny the bribe.” A soft tsk of annoyance left Cynric’s lips, “To answer your fist question, as soon as you had taken Neville as your Godson this lead to a higher claim of him becoming Lord Hufflepuff when he’s old enough, with Alice you had merely set her as your heir and eventual Lady Hufflepuff you had been training her for the role. Neville being your Godson makes him your son in all but blood, Lady Longbottom and therein Dumbledore are both hoping with this magical claim that it could be enough sway in the court for it to go in their favour instead of yours, of course if they did this they don’t realise they would not actually be able to manage the Vaults, they would seal up as you had requested in case of your death during the War until Neville is of age to control them. Your work, as usual, Lord Cynric is airtight and locked down to where no one can wheedle around it.” 

“Good, keep it this way as long as you can. I have a plan that I will finally be setting in motion soon enough to collect my Godsons from their… Abusive houses, once the finishing touches are set in stone.” Cynric grumbled out then looked over at a slightly taller Goblin that stood at three feet and six inches with dark grey skin, a round face with the usual pointed ears that tapered off so they did not look as long with a pair of beady hazel eyes. He was a broad-shouldered Goblin with a muscled frame that looked to be built for boxing, perhaps even kickboxing, his knuckles had brass knuckle dusters on both of his hands that had claws which tapered off to a sharp point. He wore a pair of loosely fitting pants with a pair of steel toed boots, a leather vest and shoulder pauldrons over both shoulders with patches of leather over his forearms and upper arms with no weapons on him. “Shoresaxe, how is Henry’s Gryffindor Vaults doing?” Now this was one of the ones he was concerned about due to the fact that he was not directly related by blood to Gryffindor and could only manage them due to being Harrison’s legal guardian, both Mundane and Magical. The former  Mundane Guardianship had been a whole pain in the ass to orchestrate and manage into his favour but he had managed it-he was going to collect his ward as soon as he could-but he did not know how long it would take to get him, he needed to finish his plan then make a few backup plans in case anything went awry during it, or if anything unexpected could happen then he knew it would, Potter Luck was just as good as it was terrible for the Potters. First step was to check on his Godsons Vaults he was able to manage personally, which he made sure to do every three months. Second, he had needed to find and know where his Godsons in question were, which he had just finished finding out where his second Godson, Henry Charlus-James Potter, his first Godson, Neville Frank Longbottom had been the easiest to find since he knew that Augusta Longbottom, Neville’s grandmother had laid claim to her grandson soon after the news of what happened to Frank and Alice hit the fan. Third, he needed to gain control of the Daily Prophet, if he had control of that News Paper and set an accordance of rules that they needed to follow then the lies about his Godson talking to them personally would be dealt with, he also needed to deal with these “Harry Potter Adventure Series” that were all lies before it got too far and soon. Fourth, he needed to figure out where he could safely house his Godsons without things going awry or being found by Dumbledore or anyone else that was not welcome. Fifth, he needed to plan how to get his Godsons out from under Albus Dumbledore’s thumbs safely and securely without any damage that he could possibly prevent.

“Young Heir Gryffindor’s Vaults are running smoothly, I am trimming whatever investments that have lost their proper money-gaining value and investing into ones that should help put more into the Vault, we all know the Lords of the Hogwarts houses can not use much of the money in those Vaults personally but the money they raise help fund the school for the many classes that are paid for.” emerald eyes narrowed in on Hazel eyes at this, causing Shoresaxe to grin sharply, “Yes, you heard this right… Many classes . We both know that there are not as many classes as their used to be when you were there and even before when Lord Arcturus went to school, it seems that Albus Dumbledore must be weaselling the extra funds into something personal or otherwise and claiming it for classes that are no longer run nor Professors that do not work there anymore alongside one of them being a ghost still, who we all know has no need to be paid.” A deep chuckle rumbled out from Cynrics chest, his head flung back as he let out a deep, bellowing laugh while his shoulders shook in mirth,

 “Oooohh, this is the reason I pay you a little more extra than the others, Shoresaxe, you always manage to find interesting things that can be added to Dumbledore’s list of crimes and evidence~” He breathed out with a purr as emerald eyes gleamed wickedly in delight at hearing this, “Search more into it would you? I have a gut feeling there are a lot more classes that are being paid for by the funds of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, maybe even Slytherin as well that Dumbledore is using for his own gain. I wouldn’t put it past the Old Wixen to find different ways into getting even more from the School Vaults, do the same as well Nanok and Kanok, I’ll be sure to pay all three of you personally from my private Vaults with each piece of information you find to add to the evidence against Dumbledore.” His gaze strayed over to Nanok, who was a Goblin that stood at three feet exactly with golden skin and a heavily muscled frame, unlike the others so far with being bald he had a thin layer of slicked back black-hair with a pair of beady light grey eyes and sharply pointed ears on either side of his head. He wore a set of heavy chainmail armour that was polished properly so it didn’t rust with a set of light leather armour underneath it and a pair of dark brown pants with a  double-edged battleaxe strapped to his back, he was grinning sharply at Cynric. “I believe that you will love this information I managed to dig out, Lord Cynric.”

“Oh? Do tell, I'm interested…” Cynric’s elbows rested against the table, his chin in the palms of his hands with a small smirk that pulled at his lips, “Albus Dumbledore left a trail for me to follow with the Ravenclaw Vaut audits… The money he has been syphoning from the Ravenclaw Vaults goes to something called “The Order of the Phoenix” , the classes in question he is using to do this is none other than World Magical History, over half the Muggle Studies funds-which explains the dismal state of that sorry class from what you told me of it with what you remembered-Alchemy, everyone here knows that there is no actual class going on with this class, Spellcrafting, and several more that had been cut after Lord Black’s time in school. I’m sorry to say that the class was cancelled by Dumbledore just a year before you joined Hogwarts, Lord Cynric. No doubt you would have had an easier time getting your Spellcrafting Mastery if Dumbledore had kept that class actually running in person instead of just on paper.”

“So those are the classes he is using to fund that damned illegal vigilante group that got my older Second Cousin and his wife killed…? That ended up leaving my Godson an orphan? This won’t do.” Cynric scowled at this information then glanced up at the smoothed out high ceiling before them that had several odd runes carved into them, he had a Mastery in Runes but he did not know these Runes, and Goblins were a rather secretive race. He had no plans to piss off the people that controlled his money. Thank you very much, he did not want to die of starvation due to that. Not at all, not one bit, it was certainly nothing he wished to test out, he would rather have the idiot Wixen test that little theory out for him by accident. “I was wondering where he had gotten the funds to have every member in that group get their own second wand, custom ones at that with wand holsters as well! He does not make enough as Headmaster to make one himself unless he properly saved up for once, least of all for several other people.” His gaze drifted from the ceiling and back towards a thoughtful looking Nanok, “I can give you my memories of that night I saw James Fleamont Potter and Lillian “Lily” Marrian Potter Nee Evans with a second wand, custom ones that they told me Dumbledore had bought and paid for personally, Nanok, just not right at this moment. I will be sure to send the memory to you untampered.” He watched silently as Nanok nodded his head sharply to this.

“Lord Cynric, about the Mortis Vaults.” Cynric’s emerald gaze snapped towards the final Goblin, one that stood at four feet exactly with pale grey skin, studded leather armour clung to his oddly thin frame for a Goblin with large pointed ears on either side of his oval shaped face and a curved sharp nose. His beady eyes were a dark green colour, odd for a Goblin with several daggers strapped to his body in different places. “What about them, Gribeclaw?” His head dipped forward slightly in a small gesture of respect, he never would have known of his options once his original blood mother and father disowned him if not due to Gribeclaw reaching out to inform him of said options other than the Tolkien line he had been disowned from. Gribeclaw would forever have his undying respect due to this. 

“They are running smoothly as always but I noticed that Albus Dumbledore has petitioned the Wizengamot members to let him have control of the “unclaimed” Mortis Vaults and Lordship.” Cynric watched as Gribeclaws expression darkened considerably in anger, “I see… What do you suggest we do about this? I do not want others to know I control that seat, voting, and Lordship just yet but if that goes through then things will get complicated considering I am already Lord Mortis of the Most Renowned and Most Ancient House of Mortis.”

“Put a Proxy in your placement instead for the votes… Let them know that the Lordship has been claimed and they will not be able to know who Lord Mortis is. Let them all be frantic like headless chickens, this will also give you ample time to plan and plot further on how to get your Godson's out from under Dumbledore’s thumbs and safely under your wings.” That last bit got everyone to let out a chuckle, a hidden inside joke between the four Goblins and Cynric himself. “As for who you could put as Proxy, I would suggest Lord Lestrange, if only because of the fact you changed the laws of Azkaban so people would be able to visit their relatives every week instead of not being able to at all. You helped speed along the process of making Ogen Head Chief Warlock, and now the Wixen’s are finally catching up to the Muggle laws so his sons are able to have showers among other basic things. He may “unofficially'' be on Lord Voldeshorts side but he is a man of his word. If you brought a contract to him that worked for both of you then he would honour it, unlike most, it’s just a matter of figuring out what would work best with him.”

Cynric looked thoughtful, clearly soaking in everything that Gribeclaw had told him then hummed as he removed his chin from his hands, nodding his head once from the assessment. “I see, I see… Yes, I’ll get on and look into that then, thank you, Gribeclaw.” His hands rested upon the table face down, “Now… Is there anything else I should be made aware of?” The four shook their heads with murmurs of quiet words in Gobbledegook to each other in private, he looked off to the right, thoughts wandering around in his head. Alright so, once again, I have a meeting with Lord Arcturus Black after this is done. I do wonder what it could be about… I suppose it could very well be about Henry, Sirius had blood adopted Henry as his child as extra protection, if what I am remembering correctly from what James had hinted at to me after I asked why Henry looked a bit like Sirius and the two of them. Emerald eyes flicked back to the four sitting at the round table, “Gribeclaw, do tell me how it went with buying all of the Daily Prophet?” A feral grin overtook Gribeclaw’s expression, “Oh you will love to hear this, Lord Cynric. Congratulations, Lord Mortis is now the Owner of the Daily Prophet! It is a most joyous occasion is it not?” 

“Oh it is, I’ll have to pay them a personal visit after the next meeting. If that is all then I will be going.” Cynric stood up, dipping his head to the four, “May your enemies fall by your blades.”

“May your vaults forever be full by the gold of your enemies.” The four stated as he turned then walked out of the room, he glanced around before he spotted Griphook once again, “Griphook!” He called out as he waved his right hand. The four feet and five inches tall pale skinned Goblin wearing a heavy metal plate on his chest with two shoulder pauldrons and thick studded leather underneath it all with a broad frame that had a spear strapped to his back with deep green boots on his feet, this was Talonhooks Great Grandson.

“Shall I show you to your next meeting, Lord Cynric?” Cynric had a bad habit of getting lost in Gringotts, his sense of direction was excellent but due to all the intense concentration of raw magic within Gringotts, as heavily expanded magically as it was by ancient Runes long-forgotten by Wixen kind, it made Cynric dizzy and overwhelmed to the point he could not tell his right from his left… He was more used to it now but he still got lost, eventually Gribeclaw and Talonhook got sick and tired of trying to find Cynric when he got lost so Griphook had become his personal guide whenever he entered Gringotts. “Please do, we both know Gribeclaw and Talonhook both would chew me a new one if they found out I got lost again because I was “You’re foolish enough to try and find my way around without Griphook in a heavily magically enhanced area like a thoughtless pup.” as they would so bluntly put it.” He smirked as Griphook barked out a harsh laugh at the mimicry of Gribeclaw and Talonhooks rants to Cynric whenever he had gotten lost because he did not want to bother Griphook. It had only taken them, saying it a seventeenth time for him to instantly go to Griphook once he entered Gringotts. He may or may not have only done so he would not keep hearing that line from those two, which Griphook thankfully understood that sentiment just as well. 

“He is just in this room with his Account Manager, shall I go fetch Gribeclaw for you?” Cynric glanced inside the room then looked at Griphook and nodded his head once, “Please do, Griphook.” He watched as the Goblin took off swiftly to go to the other meeting room where Gribeclaw had last been. He was no fool, well, he was not a fool all the time, allow him to rephrase a wee bit. He could see how most would think the eighty-two year old Wixen was handsome, considering his older age, but he was certainly not his type. He would admit to himself silently that he was good to look at, but only good to look at. Perhaps if he did not live past lives he would have taken to falling for Lord Arcturus Black and someone else, but alas he has lived past lives where he could remember all of them, and therein the point was rather moot to think about really. 

He stepped around the doorframe and walked into the room just as Gribeclaw came around the corner with Griphook, he bowed briefly, “Lord Black, it’s a pleasure to meet you finally.” He strode into the room then sat down in a chair opposite of Lord Black as Gribeclaw sat down beside him as well. “Why did you want this meeting exactly?” A fine brow raised in silent question. 

“It is about Harry James Potter.” Cynric frowned slightly, emerald eyes narrowing in on the older Wixen, “ Henry Charlus -James Potter.” He corrected out of habit now while his frown deepened, “What about my Godson?”

He saw Lord Black raise a fine black brow in silent question at the correction, but did not mention it, which Cynric was mildly thankful for, “I wanted to know if you knew of the extra protection your Cousin James Fleamont Potter, his wife Lillian “Lily” Marrian Potter Nee Evans along with my grandson, Heir Sirius Orion Black had taken in making sure that Henry Charlus-James potter was safe as possible from harm?” 

Cynric gave a pause before realisation flashed across his expression briefly, “Sirius Blood Adopted Henry…?” He murmured out in shock as he sank back in the comfortable chair, his gaze flickered to Lord Black’s, bright grey met with emerald, “He’s your new heir…” He said slowly as he tried to wrap his head around all this, “The backup for Sirius.” He had some of the best Solicitors looking into Sirius’s trial, so far what they found had been rather disheartening for him to hear, this was his elder cousin's best friend and brother in all but blood after all. The fact he did not have a trial was screaming ‘foul’ to Cynric. This more than likely had Dumbledore’s hand in it, no doubt about that at all. “The extra protection from Dumbledore is you, isn’t it, Lord Black?”

“Aye, it is.” Cynric’s head whirled at these thoughts and the new finding with a slight frown on his lips, “I’ll come back to that in just a moment, did you know your grandson, Sirius Orion Black, did not have a trial when he was sent to azkaban by the former Minister of Magic, Barty Crouch and possibly former The Head Chief Warlock of Wizengamot?” He had not gotten Ogen to replace Dumbledore as The Head Chief Warlock of Wizengamot fast enough, Sirius Black’s “trial” had happened long before he managed to get that act in place, even now it was a fight for him to keep Ogen on as the Head Chief Warlock. The man was doing an amazing job at it and every wixen was starting to finally see it in Wizengamot, much to Dumbledore’s dismay and the Light Side’s horror, the later had been highly amusing for him to see happen in Wizengamot as Lord Peverell. He could see out of the corner of his eye how Arcturus had frozen in shock at the blatant news he had just given him.

Hell, this could probably work in his favour now possibly, or well, more in his favour really. With how he casually mentioned that Dumbledore, the former Head Chief Warlock, had may or may not signed papers condeeming a noble house's heir to Azkaban without trial. Oh yes, he could see the papers already-oh yeah-he still had to go to the Daily Prophet after this and lay down the rules… Maybe he could fire that pain in the ass Rita Skeeter? Blackmail? Hmmm… Maybe Blackmail was a little too mean for the Witch? Shit-how old was the damn Witch now?-she had to be somewhere in her early thirties, right? If she didn’t change her ways and soon then he would fire her and make it so she would have a hell of a time even getting a job being a gossip blogger! No one fucks with his Godsons, no one! Rita Skeeter had managed to get a few newspaper articles in ever since last year, the year 1982 when he found out about Lily Potter’s sealed will along with James Potter’s own sealed will. It had taken a lot for him to get those open then read then he had done one better and sent out flying copies of them out into the streets of Magical Britain so everyone could read them that year, Albus Dumbledore’s precious untouched reputation had been greatly shaken that day and year. All because he had failed to kill off the one person who was a greater threat to him than he could ever imagine, and that was his own fault truly.

From then on Cynric Tutela Mortis-Peverell had been out for Albus Dumbledore’s blood and everyone knew it. He was like a hound from Hell sent as retribution for Albus P.W.B Dumbledore thinking he could play everyone like chess pieces and no longer care for the sake of one among the many. Cynric was Albus Dumbledore’s consequences to his many actions.

“And you aren’t just saying that last bit because of what Dumbledore had hidden from you?” Cynric’s emerald eyes bored into bright-grey eyes calmly, “It is only with those three signatures during war that anyone can be thrown into Azkaban without trial, Lord Black, everyone knows this well enough. It’s illegal but when has that stopped those in power from using it to get their way? ” He questioned him gently, “Besides, I have Gribeclaw and even Talonhook both looking into it, and they are the most thorough of my Vault managers for any and all facts they can find. Alongside I have the one of the very best Solicitors on his case right at this very moment, I have no doubt in my mind that between the three of them that this will get done within a timely manner with all to most of the facts correct along with evidence for everything.” 

“They have all worked together before?” Lord Black inquired.

“No, Talonhook and myself have not worked with Solicitor Lord Antonio Abbott before, but everyone is getting along well enough and we are making fast progress as Lord Cynric had said so before.” Gribeclaw interrupted so Cynric did not lose his temper over the way the question had been worded, it was not Lord Black’s fault that Cynric overanalyzed things to the point he saw a threat in every single line and sentence said to him other than from his closer friends-very rare these days-and close advisers. Cynric slowly relaxed beside Gribeclaw then glanced over at the silent Goblin across from their sofa. She in question had to be at least three feet and seven inches tall, she had grey skin that had patches of dark-grey along her body here and there, a Goblin with Vitiligo, and he had thought he had seen it all. Apparently he had not because she had a nicely rounded figure that had a lot of deadly muscle mass with a pair of light black leather armour attached to her armour in question was a large war axe hook to the back. Her face was round with high cheekbones, a sharp nose and long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail but oddly enough she had Gribeclaws odd dark-green eyes, perhaps they were related? Was she Gribeclaw’s daughter? It was possible, she did look similar to him. 

“I do apologise if this comes off as rude, but, Miss, are you related to Gribeclaw?” Cynric gestured calmly towards the female Goblin, who looked faintly surprised at being called on. Gribeclaw beside him froze up slightly then let out a breathy chuckle, “Leave it to you to notice such similarities compared to all other Wixen’s, Lord Cynric, yes this is my eldest Daughter, Lagkras. She oversees the Black Vaults personally while her Mate is with child.” 

Cynric beamed a smile at Lagkras, emerald eyes gleamed happily, “Oh, congratulations! How far along are they? Perfectly healthy I would hope!” Why is talking to Goblins easier than other Wixens…? He thought in dry amusement, perhaps it has to do with the fact that Goblins are brutally honest? Or since they are a warrior race, things like stabbing others in the back in any shape or form is seen as disgraceful, a pity Wixens can’t be like this… “Oh, yes, my Husband is two months along, the pup is late and it worries us both.” His brows furrowed slightly in concern, “I could take a look if you wish me to? I am a Master Healer and Medi-witch. I’ve done studies on Goblin pregnancies, birthing and whatever I could find about your race’s biology, so if anything I could help a little until one of your Shamans arrives to take a look at him more closely. That is only if you wish me to, I will not push for it, I am merely offering is all.” 

“I do believe I have the right to see my great grandson.” Suddenly I see why Newt Scammander did not like people more than animals, people are too confusing and callus. Cynric thought in mild annoyance then flickered his gaze towards him with a frown, “Is that a threat , Lord Black?” The air in the room chilled considerably as the mood dipped sharply south. 

“Of course not, I merely wish to see my great grandson occasionally, is all.” The mood lifted back up slightly as the room warmed back up and Cynric let out a thoughtful humm, well… I don’t need a third opponent trying to gain custody over my Godsons. “Very well, I won’t stop you but do try to warn me when you try to visit us, I still need to… Gain custody of my Godson before that can happen.” He admitted aloud grudgingly to this with a clenched tight jaw. 

“Trouble..?” Lord Black asked slowly, verbal hand reaching out as an olive branch. 

“Albus Dumbledore is causing Fudge to put up more of a fight about me being Henry Charlus-James Potter’s true legal Magical Guardian.” Cynric gritted out begrudgingly, he knew if he had more help than just the Neutral Party of Wizengamot-not a very big group either mind you-then this would possibly go a lot smoother in his favour. “He keeps causing a damn ruckus every turn I take to try and get my Godson back. I found out where he is, but if Dumbledore keeps this up then his “Light Side” will follow suit and I would not put it past them to try and kidnap him from me if they spotted him. I can’t risk it, so I have been debating on moving the three of us to America for the time until Neville is old enough to go to Hogwarts then we can move back to Britain, but not before, not with their current ages. It’s far too risky with Dumbledore’s presence and manipulations here. Plus, I am admittedly having trouble getting custody of Neville Longbottom from Augusta Longbottom, she’s putting up a hell of a fight really.” 

“It is not something you can risk as a parent, believe me, I understand this perfectly. Whatever you do, Lord Cynric, I will run interference with Dumbledore, no doubt the rest of the Dark Party will follow suit, if only because I will be leading the charge to disrupt him. I will also try to help you with getting custody of Neville Longbottom, there are ways for me to find legal evidence for him to end up with you rather than her.” Surprised emerald eyes met with understanding bright-grey ones, “You… Are a surprising old man.” He said slowly, this was perhaps the first real adult that said he would help and seemed to mean it. It was just as surprising as it looked for Cynric, he blinked owlishly then cleared his throat, “Cynric, call me Cynric, Lord Black.”

“I must insist that you call me, Arcturus then, Cynric.” A cheeky smile, one similar to Sirius’s, so this is where Sirius had gotten his personality from… Certainly not his Father but rather his Grandfather. It felt oddly fitting somehow, like a missing puzzle piece had clicked into place. “Alright then, Arcturus.” He chuckled softly at this with a shake of his head, “But… Thank you, Arcturus.” He murmured softly as his eyes softened, some of the burden, some of the worry finally removed from his shoulders since he now knew he had someone much older and wiser backing his corner of things. Maybe things won’t go so terribly wrong… He mused softly in his thoughts then shook his head to clear it as he straightened his sitting position on the sofa.

“Will that be all for this meeting? I have the Daily Prophet to bring some news to…” Cynric grinned devilishly at this thought, oh he could already taste the sweet, sweet taste of victory on his tongue. He saw the nod of Arcturus’s head then rose up and glanced at Lagkras, “If you do not wish for me to see your pregnant Mate, Lagkras then might I suggest someone I know?” He pulled out a thin, small, folded-up sheet of paper to her. “The name on this paper is very good, I got my Masteries from him. He’s one of the best around.” He watched her take the paper with wide eyes then bowed to them all before he turned and left the room with a silent skip in his step. He grinned brightly down at Griphook who looked up at him with a raised brow in silent question, “The meeting went better than I thought it would.” He explained briefly, causing the Goblin to grin sharply up at him in joy then he silently led him towards the front doors of the bank. 

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Cynric was a happy man currently, as he strolled through Diagon Alley towards the building that the Daily Prophet was in. Oh yes, phase one of his plan was in place and he had wanted to go deliver the news himself in the face of all his current problems. Well, some of his problems might not be so large now that he knew he had a powerful ally backing him… One that was in Wizengamot just like himself really. He knows that Arcturus would hold true to his word, no binding oaths or not, Arcturus Black was just that type of person. One of the rare few that held true and strong to what he said. Perhaps he could have Arcturus Proxy his Gryffindor and Peverell seats for when he left with Henry and Neville, just for shits and giggles, he could already see Arcturus’s fondly exasperated expression then Dumbledore’s frightened, paling one once he saw the papers with the news of it. Oh yes, I like that idea, let’s set it up that way! He thought with a devilish grin on his lips. I know that Gribeclaw suggested Lord Lestrange… I could assign him Ravenclaw and Mortis, give him strict instructions for what to do with those but truthfully aside from the “Dark Side” trying to get rid of fresh blood I do not have much of a problem with their ideals. The irony was not lost on him, not one bit, if he could have assigned Gribeclaw or Talonhook as his Proxies he damn well would have already, but alas… He could not, sadly. He did, however, think that perhaps Lord Antonio Abbott would be a good proxy for Hufflepuff, he would stick to the morals as well, the two of them in question had fairly alike morals. However that means so many fucking meetings to set up and explain the basic borders I do not cross ever… Yeah, he could feel the headache from this forming already. So, so many meetings…  

Cynric stormed right into the Daily Prophet as if he owned the place, which he did, not that they knew it… But they would soon learn it well. Mortis’s never left any loose ends willingly. Apsaugoti. Šeima. Meilė. That was the Mortis family Motto, a Motto that Death helped them create, much like the Malfoy’s they were family oriented, but unlike the Malfoy’s the Mortis’s did not mind getting their hands bloodied protecting their family, there were very few Wizarding families willing to bloody their hands to protect their family, the Black’s were one of those, or well, most of the family used to there were not many left that held that ideal besides Arcturus Black himself, Sirius Orion Black, and the once living Regulus Black. Perhaps the Lestrange’s were like this as well but again not many British Wizarding families held these beliefs high up in regard anymore, Cynric was going to change that.

Emerald eyes pinned the Director of Daily Prophet in place with his cold gaze, Barnabus Cuffe, a man who had been a pain in his side for the many years he had been at Hogwarts. Everything he had tried to get through the newspapers back then had been blocked at every. Single. Turn. By this greedy bastard. Oh yes… He was definitely going to enjoy doing this. “Barnabus Cuffe, we need to speak in private… Now. ” His voice grew cold as his magic crackled in the air with a subtle threat in it, he glided his way around and through the crowd with ease as he made his way into the man's office like he belonged there.

“Mr. Peverell, why are you here?” Cynric turned to glare harshly at Barnabus Cuffe, a round, portly man who was vastly overweight with the buttons on his vest and button up shirt straining to keep it all closed in. He had slicked-back greasy dark brown hair that had a balding patch at the very top with round dull, greedy light brown eyes. 

“It is Lord Peverell to you.” He hissed out with venom, “Get it right or I’ll start pressing charges for slander, Mr. Cuffe .” He strode forward a single step, sending the taller man stumbling back hastily in his angry presence. 

“Now-Now Lor-Lord Peverell, there’s no need to be so rash! Wh… What can I do for you today?” Cynric watched as the six feet and two inches tall, pale-skinned, round man trembled before a five feet and ten inches tall leanly built tan-skinned man with mid-back-length silver hair pulled back by a clasp to keep his hair in a low hanging pony-tail. “I wish to inform you that I own the Daily Prophet, and there is going to be a strict set of moral abiding rules for you lot to follow, and if none of you do, you'll be fired.” He explained coldly as he tossed the copy of the paper at the shell-shocked, trembling man then let his gaze drift along the walls before he strode over and sat himself down on Barnabus’s chair behind his desk. His booted feet lifted and rested the heels on the edge of the desk as he leaned back in the chair, putting his hands behind his head with his left ankle crossed over the right neatly. 

“First order of business, get Miss Rita Skeeter’s ass in here. I want some words with the woman who thinks it is alright to mess with my currently missing Godson Henry Potter.” Cynric’s voice was cold as he gazed at the rapidly paling man. I admit, I am curious, how much paler CAN he get? He thought in silently baffled amusement, though he could grudgingly admit that unless he found someone as a better replacement for Barnabus Cuffe that he better keep the man alive and breathing. It wouldn't do to have the annoyance die due to the shock of what he was reading… A sharp, feral grin overtook his plump lips, “I am waiting, Mr. Cuffe~!” He sing-songed with a slight tilt of his head, a stray, loose piece of curly silver hair falling in front of his hooded emerald eyes. 

He snickered softly once Barnabus all but leapt into motion, chubby body waddling out of the room quickly to go get Skeeter. I think I may be enjoying this a little too much… He snickered more in amusement as his shoulders shook slightly, he didn’t have as big of a grudge against Barnabus compared to Rita Skeeter. The woman had gotten on his last nerve in this fifth life and it was nothing he would allow his Godson to live through if he could help it, either of his Godsons. He knew that Neville had been more able to handle the press in his last life as Harry Potter, however he did not know how that world was fairing after he had been killed By Ginerva “Ginny” Molly Potter Neé Weasley, he was under the impression over the years her reputation had been destroyed thoroughly by his brother in all but blood, Neville Frank Longbottom, he had died at the age of nineteen years old after Severus Thomas Potter, jokes on Ginvera because he left all legal rights to his unborn child at the time in her stomach, in his will that was to be read the moment of his death, for his child to go to Neville Frank Longbottom to raise in the way he saw fit and no one else besides Luna Pandora Lovegood, his little sister in all but blood. 

The point of this, Neville and Henry were children , they should not have to deal with the backlash of adult society nor should they have to deal with Rita Skeeter, who was merely an annoying Beetle Animgus he knew how to take care of personally in this life. It helped that he had more than enough behind him to back up his way of getting rid of her, in his two lives are Harry Potter he never could recall ever meeting a second Cousin who’s name had been “Wulfric-Mirthun “Wolfi” Scorpius-Aldrich Tolkien” no, none that he could recall so this meant if he existed in those worlds then something must have happened that caused him to die before he could find Harry in both lives, possibly something to do with Dumbledore no doubt, or even Voldemort even, he may have been ignorant in both of those lives back then but even he had heard tales of the Cursed Vaults in Hogwarts, how they were opened and how it was someone in the Tolkien family to open them and another to solve their mystery and the curse. The difference in this life must have been the fact that Gribeclaw had managed to get ahold of him to tell him of his other options once he had been disowned by his original blood father and mother. That was the only real difference he could think of that caused this sudden shift, that or maybe Fate was feeling a little guilty with toying with him for so damn long.

Either way, he was now able to properly help his Godsons with his life and the four Family Names he held under his belt. He was merely the Guardian over the Gryffindor vaults until Henry came of age, nothing else and nothing more. Well, there was the fact that he was also an elder brother to three, three younger siblings who cared not for any of the lordships so he had taken up them all in their steads so they would not have to worry about such things. Devon Harvey the Second Avery was his youngest brother of the age of sixteen was Lord to the Avery lordship and that was only because their grandfather-who was also now his great-brother-in-law, trust him it was as weird to think about due to the blood adoption process that happened-he was named after his grandfathers-erm, brothers-younger brother who died a long while back. Elio Henrric Tolkien was the second oldest brother, he was actually a Dragon Reserve worker and he was eighteen years old currently. Millicent Daralis Tolkien, Lady Tolkien was the middle child who worked as a part time Healer and Medi-witch when she was helping her eldest brother push through important laws in Wizengamot, he wished he could have taken up that Lordship for her but after his official disownment from the Lord of the Tolkien family that matter had been rendered point and moot for him to be able to do so, besides she was of legal majority in the wizarding world, being of seventeen years of age so she was free to do as she wanted. 

As for the confusing blood adoption matter, to put simply his Great Grandfather, well, former Great Grandfather, Caldwell Ignotus Peverell had taken quite a few precautions before his death, one of these were ensuring that if any related directly to him got disowned by another blood family member then they go to Gringotts where in his vault lied his Blood for a Blood Adoption potion to be made so that they had a strong claim to the Mortis and Peverell Lordships, which made Aldrich-Harrison Cynric Avery-Tolkien, his grandfather, his older brother in blood and it actually made his former half siblings his Grand Nieces and Nephews, okay perhaps not as odd as he kept thinking it since his original blood father had all but made it impossible for him to be his blood son. Really, his former Great Grandfather-right his father -it was still odd to admit in his head, had done him a huge favour, he would not have been able to have as high of a claim over Henry and Neville as he did now without the incredible man's interference before his own former Great-Grandson had been born.

Emerald eyes snapped to the door as it slowly creaked open but kept his posture relaxed from where he was leaning back in the chair then hummed out, “Come on in, Miss Skeeter.” His fingers lightly dug the back of his silver hair to cause a bit of discomfort so he would not do anything rash like trying to kill the woman in a fairly public place with a lot of people watching through the windows of the office. No, he supposed that he would have to play nice for now, and if Skeeter happened to do something to cause him to fire her and, let’s say, three days later… She turned up dead in a ditch. No one would be the wiser since she had made so many enemies over the years of all her “Articles” in this very Newspaper. 

A thin standing woman with pale skin wearing a pale sickly green dress and short skirt that did absolutely nothing to hide whatever could possibly be there-which he most certainly did not wish to know thanks very much-a black fluffy boa was around her neck and wrists attached to the neck and sleeves of her outfit. Her blonde curly hair was short to her chin with a pair of, well he didn’t give a damn what eye colour she had really, but she wore square black-rimmed glasses and beside her was a floating Quick-Quill Quotes. He flicked his ebony wand out swiftly, his spell destroying the quill in question so that there was nothing left, not even ashes. “I did not have your boss bring you in here for an interview, Miss Skeeter.” He said coldly then saw her full red lips pout as she looked at him in barely concealed worry now. Good, be worried you little psychotic two-faced bitch. He thought viciously but kept calm, cold, calculating emerald eyes on her form at all times. “I told him to bring you in here because I am most displeased that your Articles have been falsely stating that you talked to Henry Potter who is a missing child from his Godfather.” A sneer pulled on his lips now as he saw her eyes widen. 

“Mr. Peverell I assure you I had-” He flicked his left wrist that held his wand, easily silencing her simpering words and grating voice. He lowered his dragon-hide boots back to the ground then strode towards the now cowering woman, emerald eyes colder than Death itself somehow as the warmth and light in the room darkened considering due to his raging magic. 

“I would hope Miss Skeeter that you realise lying to me will not do you any good? I am now the new Owner of the Daily Prophet, if you wish to continue working here you will write honestly with facts or you will get fired which will then lead to being thrown out by myself with no way of ever getting a job in the papers as even a simple gossip magazine. A missing child is not something to be taken lightly. He was kidnapped the night his parents were murdered and his kidnapper in question still roams freely like the annoying grandfatherly acting figure he acts as.” His voice was cold and dangerous as a wildfire barely contained by it’s last restraints, “Or did you actually speak to my four year old Godson without my consent for an interview and therein have known since nineteen-eighty-two where my Godson has resided this whole time and refused to cooperate with the Auras about where he could be so I could go get him?” He saw those blonde curls shake back and forth faster than anything he had ever seen before. 

Cynric drew his magic back in slowly so the room warmed back up and it lightened back to normal. He flicked his wand, removing the silencer spell to let her talk, then gave her a dark, warning look when she opened her mouth, possibly about to ask him something stupid, or something he had no intention of answering with her of all Wixens. He stepped towards her one more time, backing her up against the wall as he glared harshly now. “I know your precious secret Skeeter, it would do you well not to piss me off when one word from me, My Solicitor, or the Goblins will send you right into Azkaban.” He warned her with a hard look in his eyes. She, surprisingly enough, for the moment at least, decided to heed the warning to herself. He answered what questions she asked that he deemed necessary to answer then sent her out of the office before he strode out not too long after her, waving his wand around lazily while words started to permanently carve themselves into the wall opposite of the front entrance to the building. “Those are all the rules you will follow. If I find that any have been broken willingly then you will be out of a job faster than you can say “Dumbledore”, understand?” He got nods from everyone then stormed out of the building as he let out a tired breath of air. 

Cynric pushed aside his tiredness, he just had one final stop today then everything would be done… He just needed to tell Antonio Abbott to “Let loose on the Harry Potter Adventure series” then he could go to his house and rest for a bit before returned to planning how to gain custody of Neville then Henry, as sad as it was, gaining custody of Neville would be a bit easier to do now with Arcturus’s help. That was one good thing that happened today at least…

Cynric strolled into the office to see Atonio packing up the last of his papers, “I didn’t just miss you did I?” He mused when seeing the broad-framed, beige-skinned man leap basically a full foot into the air. A soft laugh left his lips as emerald eyes twinkled in amusement up at the older man who stood at least six feet and four inches tall with kind, loving, fatherly monolid hazel-green eyes and short curly light brown hair. This man, this Solicitor who had been introduced to him from Gribeclaw as a suggestion for ways to combat people using his Godsons name without permission, had turned from a simple ally to a father-figure of sorts that he never quite had with his former blood father. 

“Ahhh, Cynric, what brings you here?” There it was, the ever patient, ever understanding, fatherly voice of Antonio’s that always caused him to relax from a day of stress. A soft smile pulled at Antonio’s lovely lips, “Cynric, what’s wrong, son?”

Cynric gulped softly, it always stung when he heard Antonio call him son , because he would have loved so dearly to be Antonio’s actual child, but those were merely a childish dream, he was a fully grown adult, a fully legal wixen who was past his majority. There was no need for him to react like this, but why did it have to hurt? What sucks is I know he would be a good father… He thought glumly to himself, remembering how he had seen Antonio treat his young daughter and his wife, he really would have made the perfect father for Cynric and his three little half-siblings. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a lot on my mind, y’know how it is…” He waved his hand absentmindedly while he fought back the urge to chew on his bottom lip that Antonio always did not fail to scold him in a fatherly-way about not harming himself in any such way possible, including this. “Ah, right, I came here to let you know that I want you to go after the “Harry Potter Adventure Series” finally since I have the Daily Prophet under my control now. I also want you to be the Proxy for Hufflepuff, Antonio.”

Cynric blinked in surprise when a large hand was placed atop his hair gently before the hand gently patted his head. His eyes closed while he allowed this brief moment to lean his head into the gentle touch he rarely got as a child and even more rarely as a teen and young adult due to not many adults in his life that meant truly well for him. 

POV Antonio Abbott

“I’ll be your Proxy for Hufflepuff, Cynric.” Antonio said gently and he could tell this much from the way that Cynric acted around him and even how little he had told him of his former father when he had first met the lad that he never truly had an adult to rely on properly. He had seen how skittish he was around others his age who were obnoxious or suddenly loud, which was most everyone his age back when Cynric was younger. He could easily recall the first day he had met the eleven year old tan-skinned pup who stood a measly three feet and seven inches, surprisingly small for a pup his age, but he had lanky legs so he assumed he would eventually grow into his height back then. He pulled a surprised Cynric into a gentle hug as his heart ached heavily in his chest, Cynric should not be expecting hits at every turn… He kissed the top of his silver wavy-curly hair gently, kind hazel-green eyes closing in the moment as he thought briefly of asking Cynric if he wished to be adopted by him once again, it was not the first time he thought of it, nor would it be the last. He adored how Cynric was with little Hannah, and how nicely he treated his wife, Cynric had carved his way into their hearts but did not seem to even realise he had. He always seemed to place the sole weight of the world on his shoulders, as if it was for him alone to save, which it should not be nor did it ever need to be solely on his shoulders alone. 

He was scared of frightening Cynric off if he offered, but oh Merlin , he could easily see the longing in those emerald eyes when he looked up at the older man. It tore Antonio’s heart open each time with renewed vigour and he did not like seeing Cynric in such mental anguish… For now, for now, he would merely keep holding Cynric tightly yet gently, blocking the child in his arms from the cruel world outside it. He was almost certain that Cynric would deny himself the adoption if offered if only because he saw himself as an adult when all Antonio himself saw was a child that never got to be one. A child that never had a childhood, he only ever saw a child that had been forced to grow up far too soon, someone that didn’t know how to properly relax or have fun with people around his age. 

This was too much pressure on Cynric’s shoulders but he knew that the young man in his arms would not allow anyone else to carry even a small part of the true weight he was carrying, perhaps some of the lesser weights on his shoulders, but not the one Antonio had seen on him since his older brother had gone missing and got expelled. He knew that Cynric’s young half siblings/grand nieces and nephews did not know of their eldest brother, Jacob Tolkien, who died or vanished the night of Cynric’s final early year; he barely managed to graduate. He had a feeling that Cynric knew fully well where the older boy was but refused to tell anyone, for fear of him being caught and sent to Azkaban for something he had no control over. 

“It’s alright, Cynric… I promise…” He whispered softly as he hugged the young man closer to his chest, his arms shaking slightly as he closed his eyes and could imagine with well practised ease how Cynric would agree to being adopted officially by his wife and him. He could imagine Hannah playing with her older brother, getting to know her older brothers Godsons, Neville and Henry, all of them laughing joyfully in the backyard garden he had as they dug around for “buried treasure” as Cynric led the tale of the Pirate that buried it there in the garden somewhere. He could see his wife’s fondly exasperated expression, a small smile pulling at her perfectly heart-shaped lips with her blonde, wavy blonde hair pulled back by a silver clasp to keep the top half out of her pale face with her twinkling upturned sapphire-blue eyes. Her sharp jawline with a round chin, the dimples next to her lips when she smiles ever-so-sweetly, her short, just slightly up-turned nose that made her look all the more adorable to him… 

He could see Cynric’s emerald eyes shining happily as he kept all three kids on their toes, easily leading them to and fro within the garden. That vision fell away as he felt Cynric pull back against his hold, he let go of him with a sigh while he opened his eyes to stare down at the young man. “I’ll leave you be for now, Cynric… But, Cynric, be sure to remember that my home’s doors are always open to you.” He rested a hand lightly on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze then grabbed his suitcase and left the office with silent, long strides. 

POV Cynric

Once he left Lord Atonio Abbott’s office, Cynric felt exhausted in all descriptions of the word that people liked to use, he just did not at the moment have the mental energy for anything. However that was the last thing he had to do today so now he was free to try and, well, relax for a little as Gribeclaw, Talonhook, and even Antonio all tried to get him to do… Which was easier said than done since he did, in fact, not know how to relax. 

So if anyone was to ask him what he did all last night he would not be telling them that he stayed up all night long working on a double-edged secure contract for Lord Lestrange.

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November 18th, 1983

It had taken a little over two months but he managed to finally gain custody over Neville Frank Longbottom, his first Godson who was only three years old at the current moment. The way it happened? Lord Lestran-sorry, Corvus-and Arcturus both managed to find evidence of the fact she did not stop her brother-in-law Algie Longbottom from dropping a three year old toddler out of the window in a tower. Arcturus had been visiting Augusta Longbottom with one of Corvus’s hidden associates, they had been waiting for her in the parlour when they whipped around to see a small body falling down from the tower across from them, Arcturus and the associate rushed to the window only for the older man to react first by Accioing Neville into his arms. It was what was shown to the court and I couldn’t believe that Lady Augusta Longbottom had allowed Algie to degrade and belittle my godson to the point of allowing him to let go of the pup outside of the window of a tower. 

He hugged a confused little Neville closer to him, a shudder wracking through his body at what else would have happened to his precious Godson if he had not gotten him at this age. He didn’t want to think about what Algie Longbottom could have done if Neville continued living there with them. Now all I have to do is keep Neville safe with me until I can get a hold of Henry then leave… He thought as he looked down at the round hazel eyed child that he got from Frank, with his mothers, Alice’s sharp nose and her light olive skin, then his fathers sharp jawline and chin that would show eventually once he grew into the chubby baby fat. He had an idea that Neville could end up growing taller than his father, Frank Longbottom. “It’s alright, you’re safe now, Neville, my precious Godson…” Emerald eyes softened as he saw the wide-eyed look of wonder in those painfully familiar hazel eyes. He pressed his forehead to his Godsons gently and closed his eyes for a brief moment then turned and walked alongside Antonio, Arcturus and Corvus, all of which were growing closer and closer to this young man over the last two months. 

When there had been Dumbledore’s trial over the classes that “being run but not having Professors that were alive anymore getting paid”, Antonio, Corvus and Arcturus all three went up to claim their Proxy positions for the seats Albus Dumbledore looked about ready to scream when Antonio claimed Proxy seats in the stead of Lord Hufflepuff, then Dumbledore had looked sick to his stomach when Corvus claimed Proxy seats for Ravenclaw and Mortis… The real kicker all four men got to see was that Dumbledore fainted from shock , possibly nearly having a heart attack as well, when Arcturus Black had taken up Proxy seats for Gryffindor. He would claim Proxy for the Peverell seats once Cynric had Henry and Neville both then left the country to keep his Godsons safely out of his grasp. Honestly, Cynric was sure he possibly found a new memory to have his Patronous off of due to the pure amount of unprecedented gleeful joy he had felt, it didn’t help that he very nearly burst out laughing when this happened. He barely controlled himself to act concerned that Dumbledore had fainted, his oh-so-innocently timed question of concern. “Did he have a heart attack?” very nearly sent the three older men into roaring laughter themselves. 

Three alpha’s and an Omega with a pup, what an odd sight huh? Two widowers and one married happily. One would think that Cynric Peverell was trying to take all three as his Alpha’s but he felt no connections to them at all, well not in the way others would think, the most he felt connection-wise to the three older men, and Alpha’s in question was a parent-bond. It was something he was starting to become grateful for, despite his mild annoyance at all three older men telling him to go to sleep on time. 

He was a full-grown fucking adult, past his majority age for Wixen’s and a fully damn grown Omega so he did not need the help! Unmated or no, he could protect himself just fine! He never felt the need to bow down to Alpha’s, even when he had presented as an Omega at the young age of thirteen, sadly he had never been able to grow a beard like he wanted to so he could try looking older than he was. It was annoying and he had no doubt in his mind it was probably due to his Creature Inheritance. Unlike most Omega’s he never had his heat’s so it was highly concerning but he had another gut feeling this could very well be due to his type of Creature Inheritance as well, possibly something to do with his two nameless Mates on the sheet that was hidden deep within Gringotts, he didn’t even know if they were male or female or if one was male and the other female. Maybe they were both Alpha Females? Or both Alpha Males? Hell they could be Beta’s of any gender and he wouldn’t give a damn, he already has his Godsons to take over his Lordships so he saw no real need for a child anytime soon, or ever really in his mind. Despite other’s disagreements about such thoughts.

Why should he care about having children when he had two perfect Godsons to take over the Lordships if they wanted to? Worse comes to worse then he can withhold Lorships until the two adopt or even have their own children so that they can take them up if they want to, heck he could even adopt a child himself to raise with his Godsons to have a third child to play with the two and a way to give some of the Lorships to the third as well. He had too many in his mind, far too many Lordships, and count in the fact he was the Master of Death? Oh yes, far too much shit for him to do really. He did not need anymore to show up out of the blue, he had his hands plenty full with these six he was keeping track over, not to mention Dumbledore made an utter mess out of the Potter, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor Vaults, he didn’t even want to guess what exactly happened to the state of Slytherin’s Vaults. He kinda dreaded whoever managed to get the Lordship over those Slytherin Vaults really, and he pitied them for the headache it would cause no doubt at the least as well, but at least that poor sod was not him. Three Hogwarts Houses to control and fuss over as a whole to keep the school running was enough as it was. 

He waved the three older men off with a roll of emerald eyes while cradling Neville close to his chest gently, “I am fine, I will eat and rest, promise, I will try and relax some since I now have Neville and only need to get Henry from those abus-the annoyances.” He barely corrected himself in time when remembering that he had a child, a pup, in his arms so he couldn’t curse as freely as he would like to anymore. He had a pup to take care of, so he would therefore need to take care of himself more than he did now. He dipped his head respectfully to the three Alpha’s before he turned on the heel of his dragonhide boot and took off before apparating swiftly into Ravenclaw manner. His current place of housing, the one his Ravenclaw ancestors dearly loved and treated with care. This wasn’t home to him but it was possibly as close as he could get as far as he was aware. 

He placed Neville down gently onto a child’s bed that was right next to his own and ran a hand through his fluffy dark brown hair, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he stared lovingly down at the wide-eyed toddler that had no idea he had been moved to a safe home , a competent, safe adult instead of remaining with his Grandmother and Great Uncle Algie. “Hello Neville, you were only a year old when I saw you last, but I am Cynric-Aasim Tutela-Alden Mortis-Peverell-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff… But you can call me Cynnie or Cyn if you want.” He kneeled down next to the bed so his face was even with the nervous pups, “I’m your Godfather, did your Grandmother explain what a Godfather does to you?”

“N-no… I… I read it dough!” Cynric smiled gently still, “Though” He corrected his pronunciation of the word correctly in a soothing, gentle tone, then tilted his head, “What did your book say, Neville?” How much did he have to explain to his Godson? How much would he have to reassure him that he wouldn’t do anything to harm him, physically, mentally, or verbally on purpose?

“Th-though!” He chuckled faintly when Neville said the word correctly this time then patted the top of his fluffy hair, causing the young pup to stare up at him with wide innocent hazel eyes. “Yes, that’s correct.” Oh, he hoped so dearly he didn’t fuck up on this whole parenting thing… He never had the best examples, but his little half-siblings liked to say that they turned out like the perfect adults they are due to himself so that he shouldn’t doubt his skills. If anything he had to believe them for their honesty. 

“Th..the book sai-said.. God-godpar…parents take care… of…of their… godchi-dren chi’dren if the pa…parents pass… pass away…” Cynric patted the top of Neville’s head soothing once again and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his pups forehead gently, “Yes, good job, Neville. You did so well for someone your age of two. You said nearly everything perfectly, children is how it’s pronounced, it has a l in it before the d.” He explained gently to the stunned pup and felt his heart break. Did Neville’s grandmother not tuck him in, or say such things like this to him? “But yes, we take care of our godchildren if the parents pass away or are unfit to handle the care of them. I had let your grandmother have custody of you at first because I thought you might have been better taken care of by her, but I was wrong and now you’re with me until you’re old enough to be on your own.” 

He pressed another kiss to the pup's forehead when he heard the little yawn more than saw it as he stood up slowly then swished his wand, transfiguring his current fancy clothes into simple, soft, comfortable nightclothes. “You need sleep pup…” He said fondly while he tucked the small pup into under the sheets on the bed, causing him to give that little yawn again before his small hands latched onto his shirt sleeve, he paused and looked down at him, “Yes, pup?”

“St…Stay….. Please.. Cuddles?” Not finding it within himself to deny his adorable Godson in front of him, he simply wandlessly transfigured his clothes into nightclothes then laid down on the top of the sheets behind Neville and held the pup close to his chest, “Always pup, whatever you need I’ll do or get it.”

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December 1st, 1983

Cynric would have honestly been pulling his hair out by this point if he didn’t have Neville to focus on and fret over. Pups were a soothing balm to his old soul, to whatever it was that was missing in him, or missing people in his soul more like. But he could ignore that pain for a long time as long as he had Neville with him. It had been a rough first two weeks and two days of adjusting to Neville’s silent signs and quiet demeanour. His two-year-old godson, Magic bless him, couldn't say a sentence without stuttering and he did not blame the pup in the slightest. No, he blamed Augusta Longbottom for this, not his Godson. He had a lot of work cut out for him to make his Godson understand he was a child so he didn't need to pronounce all the words like a proper adult. 

He also needed a way to explain to his Godson that he didn't need to fear being yelled at for speaking up, stuttering, and all, about what he wanted or needed. Well, Antonio was visiting him today to tell him how the defamation of Henry’s family name with the Harry Potter Adventure series was going, perhaps he could bring Neville into the conversation after asking the older Alpha how to go about getting Neville to relax around him, to get the pup to see that he was safe, that he would not be yelled at by Cynric if he talked freely. He badly wanted his Godson to speak as freely as he did when he was a year-old, even if it had mostly been babbling, seemingly mindless words. His grandmother really had done a number on his Godson’s confidence and he did not like it one bit. 

Cynric could easily recall the only Alpha he had been interested in during his school days, Rowan Khanna, a pup his age that had broken through most of his shields the first day he met him. He had been charming, in a pup-like way at the time then, overly happy and clearly had a good family that put him first over everything else in their life. His short, fluffy, black hair that was a bit messy-gently tousled some would call it back then-with his dark-tan skin then his warm, kind, olive-shaped chocolate brown eyes. He could remember the ridiculously bright coloured scarf he bought that matched with absolutely nothing he owned throughout the years. He wondered silently if they should have buried Rowan Khanna, his best friend, his boyfriend, his lover, his future chosen mate, with that ridiculous thing… Then he paused as he remembered that he had placed the scarf on him before he had been buried by family and friends. It doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore to think of you, Rowan… Not like before, Neville reminds me of you in some senses. He thought belatedly then looked to the side to see Antonio enter through the floo. 

“Lord Abbott, it’s nice to see you.” Cynric dipped his head to the older man who looked downright insulted that he had called him by his title. He broke into a large smile before laughing at his first father-figures expression as he gestured for the Alpha to sit down, he sat down on the couch next to his precious Godson who was reading a book, his little brows furrowed in the way that Frank’s would when he had been concentrating hard on the words. He reached his hand down, gently tousling the top of Neville’s hair gently, which caused the pup to relax in question right next to him. He pulled his smaller body closer to his warm side, his arm tucking securely around him protectively. “Neville, pup, this is Antonio Abbott, he is a dear friend of mine. He was also a friend of your fathers.”

This was the first time Cynric had seen Neville perk up from his books, “Fri-friend of Papas?” His heart ached in his chest as he smiled softly down at him, “Yes, he’s a friend of your fathers, would you like to ask him anything?” He watched the pups head tilt to the side slightly in thought, hazel eyes wide in innocent awe at being asked a simple question of if HE wanted to ask something to the older alpha. As if his grandmother had not done such things about telling Neville about his parents, which he could understand to an extent, the wound was closer to her heart since it was her son and daughter-in-law that had become comatose due to the repetitive Crucio Curse, but she forgot that Neville is merely a pup and needed to know information on his parents. This was something that Cynric would never personally forgive her for, he may have been a close friend of Alice’s and even Lily’s, but he had not known Frank Longbottom as well as his first-cousin, well, uh… Great Nephew now? Oh he didn’t know the term for this! Maybe just a cousin? Point being, he did not know Frank all that well and so he didn’t get to tell Neville a lot about his father but he had told him a lot about his mother he had never heard before. 

“Wh-wha… What was Papa lik-like?” Over the last two weeks Neville had gotten better with pronouncing the l’s in some words but not all, but it was a nice little bit of progress. He chanced a glance at the older Alpha and saw his hazel-green eyes soften considerably, he clearly understood what Cynric had been asking him personally without saying it out loud, good, because he wanted Neville to know about his father. “Your father was a lot like you when you were younger, he had a hard time pronouncing words, l’s, in particular, just like you…” 

He could feel his heart soar happily at his father-figure's explanations of Frank to Neville. He was glad that the older Alpha would gladly answer whatever question Neville asked, no matter how much it seemed to hurt him a little.  He turned his emerald gaze to watch with loving eyes as Neville’s round, widening hazel eyes stared in shock and awe at the older Alpha before him answering his questions, that caused his heart to ache a little because Neville’s Grandmother should have been doing this already. He watched him closely and as soon as he saw a little yawn he scooped him up into his arms, cradling the pup to his chest securely and cooed softly as he kissed his forehead gently. 

“You need a nap, pup. I promise when you wake back up, if Antonio is still here you can ask him more questions about your father. And if he is not here then I can help you write a letter to him with questions about your father.” He watched in fond amusement as Neville squirmed a little in his hold then settled himself comfortably against his chest, little head resting over his beating heart as his breathing slowed to deep and even breaths. He was glad that he had managed to find a way for Neville to sleep without the nightmares that plagued the poor pup at night. Nightmares, he suspected, were actually memories of that terrifying night to the one-year-old at the time when his parents had been tortured in front of him. His arms ached afterwards but if it worked and it helped Neville get a full hour nap then he would be all for dealing with the aching arms after the nap. Emerald eyes looked at hazel-green, “She never talked about Frank to the pup, huh?” He gave a silent nod of his head, his expression hardening in his anger.

“I told him information about his mother, since I knew Alice better, despite the age gap as friends, Augusta Longbottom had refused to talk very much of Alice, and what she talked of Frank was only of how Neville should be a perfect mini copy of her son. ” He spat out with a surprising amount of venom, oh if only I could strangle her with her robes… Perhaps even Algie’s beard. He shook his head to clear it so he wouldn’t accidentally wake the emotion sensitive pup. “It’s just-so infuriating -I have so much I still need to do and I need to try and find ways for Neville to understand that I am not going to yell at him for talking, stuttering and all.” He gave out a tired sigh at this and leaned back on the couch while holding the pup in his arms still. 

“You look like you’re doing perfectly fine so far, Cynric.” Cynric relaxed at Antonio’s words then gulped softly as he glanced balefully up at him through his lashes, “Am I though? Am I really? I worry about the fact I could fuck up and this could cause Neville to go back a hundred steps with his progress.” He admitted softly to the older alpha, his brows furrowing in concern as he stared down at the pup in his arms, once, long ago, he had entertained the thought of having pups of his own… But then his eldest brother left, cursed by the Cursed Vaults in Hogwarts and the woman who helped him open them, then it fell to him to raise his three younger half-siblings in his parents' stead and he pushed those thoughts to the very back corner of his mind. 

It wasn’t until recently after gaining custody over his oldest Godson that those thoughts of having pups came back to him, he often times pushed them back into that corner of his mind so viciously he was sure he might of damaged his Mind Palace with how rough he had been about it, but he had not thankfully, so his walls and defences were strong and secure in his mind. He had duties to attend to, Vaults to upkeep, Dumbledore to plan the murder of, Voldemort to plan the murder of as well, he had a full plate and he frankly did not need anymore on it, having his own pups would certainly cause more harm than help with Neville’s progress, it wouldn’t help Henry once he got his second Godson either. Both pups were abused in several different ways and he needed his full wits about him in order to help them heal the trauma and find healthy ways to get around their triggers. 

His gaze lifted from Neville when he felt a large, smooth hand placed over his shoulder gently, panicked emerald met kind and gentle hazel-green once again, “I mean it, Cynric, you are doing amazing with Neville. This much progress have you made with the pup? It takes months for others to get pups to this trusting state, whatever you’re doing, just keep doing it this way and Neville will continue getting better under your care at a steady pace. It won’t be easy, there will always be setbacks no doubt, it could be years from now, days, weeks, or even months but I know you’ll be the steady hand to help guide Neville when it’s needed.” Cynric felt his worries ease at the way that Antonio had worded this, “You mean it?” His voice was soft, insecure, he wasn’t sure if he was doing anything right at all, but hearing it took months for normally abused pups to gain this level of trust with an adult had soothed a great deal of his worries… 

“I promise, I mean every word I said.” He relaxed more at this, because Antonio never promised anything unless he knew he could keep it. This led Cynric to believe the older Alpha’s words to be true, and he supposed he would have to up the food for Neville to eat as well, he was still a growing pup after all.  “As for dealing with “Harry Potter Adventure Series” that is coming along better than expected. They are going to owe Henry Potter a lot of money in his personal trust vault, and they have signed the papers you and I made so that they will not continue selling anymore of those books nor make anymore of them. I found out something interesting though…”

“What would that be?” Cynric’s head tilted as he held the pup close against his chest still. 

“Albus Dumbledore commissioned the series for extra side money.” Cynric’s anger rose up sharply before he heard a soft whimper from the pup in his arms, he calmed back down and gently cooed down at the sleeping little one in his arms before kissing his forehead gently that was pressed halfway against his chest. “I see… he’s been meddling for far too long don’t you think so, Antonio? Did you get a copy of that contract? I could use all the evidence I can find to keep him from my pups.” 

“I did, and I should be going, Abigail however wants you to know that you should visit sometime soon with Neville, she wants Hannah and him to meet at some point so they can be friends.” Cynric dipped his head respectfully to Antonio, “Of course, I will be sure to do this soon hopefully, unless certain things come up.” He stated calmly before tucking Neville more firmly into his left arm against his chest securely then waved a hand at Antonio as he left through the floo. Once he was gone his magic sealed the Ravenclaw Estate back up properly as he made his way towards his Godson’s and his room. 

He laid down on his bed with Neville, tucking the smaller body in under the thick, warm, and comfortable blankets while he laid down on top of them. His body heat ran a little higher than most wixens due to his creature inheritance. He was by no means someone that could control fire but his body stored the heat it got from fires and sunlight over the day so he could stay warmer in the winter months for longer periods of time. With everything he did he needed to do less during the winter months or he could possibly fall into a coma or hibernation and that was not something he wished to deal with while he raised his godsons, he could fight it off but it was still risky all the same. So he normally had two options, do less or do more and risk falling into his hibernation/coma over the rest of the winter. 

Besides, it was the last month of winter and he wished to spend the Yule Holidays with Neville before it got warm enough for him to start doing more about getting Henry safe under his wings so-to-speak like how Neville currently was. He wanted both pups safe and he needed them both to be with him in order for him to know that they were safe…  Dumbledore was as much of a threat to his little Godsons just as much as the currently so-called dead Voldemort was a threat to the two pups that would be in his care. 

He would be damned if he let anything happen to the pups in his care, to his Godsons, he would burn the whole world down first before he let that happen while he had them.

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February 27th, 1984

Cynric carried Neville in his arms, not able to leave the pup back at Ravenclaw Estate since Gribeclaw and Talonhook both called on him so unexpectedly. It must have been important considering the two Alpha Goblins rarely made a summons for him at the same exact time. His thoughts wandered around briefly in his head about what it could be before he felt the gentle pat of his Godson’s small, thinning hands against his sharply angled cheekbones. Emerald eyes met with little hazel ones, Neville had for some reason gotten sick a month ago. It was getting to the point his light olive skin was starting to become sickly pale and it was highly concerning for Cynric to see and watch as this pup filled with such life and wonder of the world slowly crumbled to whatever was causing this. 

He hugged Neville closer to him, silently vowing to figure out what was wrong so he could see his Godson smiling so widely that his little dimples would show again. He knew the pup didn’t feel well but all the health tests that he and the Goblins had been running couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. That scared Cynric more than anything else in the world right now. He could look Death in the eye and the only thing he would do is slap the deity for trying to claim his fucking Godson. He did not fear Death, he feared his Godson being unable to live the life he was supposed to, a long, living , loving life that was just as fulfilling. If he had to watch Neville die slowly then he would reach out to Death in order to make a deal, he didn’t care what the other would possibly want, all he cared about was keeping his pup safe and healthy. 

If Henry is dead then Neville goes the deities better fucking start to pray because they won’t be getting any mercy from me over this. “Gribeclaw, Talonhook, what is it?” Cynric asked as soon as he saw the two Goblins, they both looked up at him. 

“Cynric, we think we might know what is wrong with Neville but we need to do the Inheritance test on the pup, do we have your permission?” Gribeclaw stated which caused Cynric to frown in concern, his brows furrowing before they rose up sharply in surprise as he breathed in deeply in wounded shock. “You think he’s been cursed?”

“Or had his magic blocked too much for too long now..” Talonhook admittedly reluctantly to the young man he saw as a sort of adoptive son. 

“Let’s do this, I need to know what’s wrong with him so I can fix it. So he can start playing around like a child should.” Cynric frowned more at this then gently sat Neville down on a fluffy chair, then took the knife from Gribeclaw with practised ease before he gently pricked Neville’s finger then allowed the three drops of blood to soak the special paper before he healed the pups finger with a wave of his hand. 

“Wh… What’s going on?” Over the last two months and twenty-six days, Neville’s stuttering had gotten a lot better, to the point it barely showed unless he was extremely stressed thanks to all the practice between the two of them, but with him getting like this? Well this was the result. “Gribeclaw and Talonhook have a hunch on what could be bothering you, pup.” He explained gently, worry in his voice as he saw the panicked expressions of grief and horror. He walked to the other side of the desk and looked down at the paper in their hands only to freeze up as terror gripped his heart in a vice of thorns.

There, written in bold, swirling ink just below Neville’s birthday was the reason he was suddenly growing paler and paler with each passing month. 

Name: Neville Frank Longbottom

Age: Three

Birthday: July 30th, 1979

Reason of sickly nature: Curse of Death cast by Algie Longbottom

Cynric felt rather faint as he stumbled back against the wall with a harsh gasp of air, how am I supposed to fix this? How am I supposed to counteract this? I would be arrested by this dumbass ministry if I used the blood arts in the Ravenclaw Grimoire to stop the curse from killing Neville at this age, but I don’t know how to get rid of it! How do I get rid of a curse that is meant to kill someone?! His heart stopped in his chest because he realised that you can’t… He thought bleakley while he stared with wide emerald eyes at his precious Godson, his pup… When had he started to think of Neville as his own pup? No, it didn’t matter, he had to find a way to save his pup. It didn’t matter how, it didn’t matter how long it took, it didn’t matter what he had to use… He just needed his pup alive and well. His breath came out in harsh pants as he walked up to Neville, picking him up gently then cradled him to his chest, pressing his little head gently into the crook of his neck as salty tears started to fall down his high angled cheekbones. He turned around then looked at Gribeclaw and Talonhook with wide, helpless emerald eyes that were slightly unseeing. This… Neville can’t end up like Rowan, he can’t! He can’t! I wouldn't be able to take another death I can't save!

The sorrow turned into anger quickly, he wanted Algie Longbottom’s head on a wooden platter! {“I want his head on a fucking wooden plate! With splinters!”} He hissed in Gobbledegook to the two Goblins, they understood perfectly what he meant by this subtle order. He wanted Algie Longbottom to pay for this with everything he had, plus he really did want the man's head on a wooden platter full of splinters, but first, he wanted what little was left of that wretched Alpha’s reputation torn to shreds and have the public hate the bastard as much as he did if not even more. Right at this moment, Algie Longbottom had made an enemy of Lord Mortis… 

This was something that should not have happened but it did and now Cynric would be the consequences to Algie Longbottom’s actions with cursing his Godson.

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March 1st, 1984

It had been three days since he found out the reasoning behind Neville’s rapidly deteriorating health. Three days as he sat back at Ravenclaw Estate, searching through all five Ravenclaw Grimoires to try and find a way to stop his pups rapidly deteriorating health with no way found just yet still. While he had been busy searching away, Antonio had seen to getting the article about the state of Neville due to his Great Uncle Algie Longbottom cursing him with Curse of Death , it was all anyone could talk about these three days. 

Cynric had spent three days locked in his estate, taking care of Neville, answering questions, caring for him again, then when he was put to his nap he could be found in the family library by the house elves and the three sparse guests that came here and there to check on the young omega, to make sure he was taking care of himself as well as his precious pup. Newsflash, the pup was taken care of despite the curse but the young omega in question had forgotten to feed himself over the last three days of stress while trying so desperately to find a way to stop his pup from dying. Despite this, Cynric had managed to trick the three sparse visitors whenever they arrived. 

It was almost too easy. He hardly spent any time at all sleeping anymore during those three days while he thoroughly searched through the Ravenclaw library for answers since the three Ravenclaw Grimoires did not have them. He scowled tightly as he waved his right hand, his wandless magic effortlessly placing all the books into the right places in the library.  He turned and started to pace, easily ignoring his rumbling stomach with ease while he ran a hand through his hair with a tight frown on his lips. How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to keep his current pup safe when he did not know how to defeat the thing that was slowly killing Neville?? How?  

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March 25th, 1984

Three weeks and three days since he tried to stop the curse on Neville, Neville who was a naturally chubby toddler from baby fat with light olive skin and fluffy, shiny, dark brown hair. Neville, his pup, who now was far too thin, too underweight no matter how much he fed him nor how many nutrient potions he slipped into his food and drinks to help him regain the lost weight, was now a sickly-pale skin colour with his hair looking dull and dry no matter how much his pup bathed. It sickened Cynric to see his pup in this state, not that he was currently any better right at this moment, he was slightly underweight himself but he could easily gain it all back-unlike his precious pup-Algie Longbottom had been tried for the attempted murder of Neville Longbottom, Heir to both the Longbottom house and the Hufflepuff house, they wouldn’t try Algie for murder because all of Cynric’s efforts managed to keep the pup in question alive..

In pain everyday, but alive and breathing. Cynric was not sure if Neville being alive right now was a blessing or a curse… He was inclined to believe it was both, that Death did not want his pup just yet, not so soon, but it also meant that Neville was releasing his pup-wail due to the pain. This caused the ever already hypervigilant Cynric to work double time, there were no visitors allowed except for Gribeclaw and Talonhook, who he knew both Alpha Goblins were either formerly Mated and had grown pups or was Mated, with grown pups and another on the way, yes in that order was Gribeclaw and then Talonhook respectively. 

Sometimes he allowed Antonio Abbott in his house but if he tried to make Cynric take a break and leave the room that Neville was in then the older Alpha was out faster than he could say “Merlin!” His instincts were on high alert for any and all perceived threats to the pup, the Goblin’s understood this state was due to the stress of everything then Neville somehow getting cursed right under Cynric’s nose, possibly right as the pup’s care was passed onto him when he won custody rights over his Godson. The fact that his raw magic had probably been what kept Neville from falling right into the Curse of Death was an amazing feat in itself. 

Not that Cynric thought that way, he must have known on a subconscious level that Neville had been cursed for his magic to keep the pup as safe as it could for a full two months and thirteen days, just a day after Neville had turned five was when the Curse had struck. He could hear Neville's wail of pain, the pup’s wail, as he fell down the stairs that day before Cynric caught him swiftly in his arms. He could remember the paling and screwed facial expression of pain while he rushed to his Ravenclaw’s family healing chambers. He shook his head to clear it then looked over at a barely breathing pup who was tucked up under two thick covers to keep him warm since he had lost so much baby fat. His heart ached in his chest while he finally tore his gaze away from the sight, I failed, Alice… Morgana… Alice, I'm so sorry… His shoulders sagged at these thoughts with his back straight on a hard wooden chair. 

I failed.. Shit, I’m a crappy Godfather, I can’t even keep Neville safe like you had asked… He ran a hand through his loose silver hair as his brows furrowed together, his lips pinching together as emerald eyes teared up finally. The stress of trying to keep Neville alive and wondering if it was really a good idea to keep the pup suffering was a thought that played around in his head most days lately. How am I supposed to fix this..? He thought idly, he had done just about everything short of taking his pup out of Britain to go see if someone elsewhere knew how to go about this more properly… The only problem with that is that I don’t have Henry yet… I can’t leave without my second pup, my second Godson. He shook his head at this, if he left now, and without Henry he could lose where Henry had been placed. He had no doubts in his mind that Dumbledore was waiting for Cynric to leave Britain with Neville to get him healed then move Henry Potter to a completely different place, likely one where it would also be harder for Cynric himself to grab and take his Godson from. 

He looked over to Neville’s sleeping form, sweat pulling at the young pup’s brows as he shivered in his sleep. He rested his hand atop his sweaty forehead gently and silently cast a mild warming charm on him directly then watched as the pup relaxed and stopped shivering. He would just have to make due for now, it was getting closer and closer to the time for him to strike and reclaim his missing Godson, his missing pup.. “You just need to hang on for a week longer, Neville, I promise… I promise we will be out of here as soon as I have your Godbrother and I’ll pay whatever I need to so you can get better.” He leaned forward with a whisper, soft and soothing as he kissed Neville’s sweaty and clammy forehead gently. 

It was certainly going to become the greatest prank in history on April 1st, 1984.

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April 1st, 1984

It was time, Arcturus had taken over the Proxy seats of Peverell, so he had to move quickly and silently with getting Henry before Albus Dumbledore moved to move his Godson elsewhere. Neville looked worse for wear, but at least he was lucid and aware unlike two days ago, it had worried Cynric nearly sick when Neville mentioned seeing his dead Grandfather, Lord Neville Longbottom, who he was named after. He bundled up Neville in his thick furred cloak and rested him down in a corner, his magic making sure the shadows hid him within before he left his Satchel with him, a satchel that held all the family books and Grimoires in one magically expanded satchel, then that satchel was placed in another magically expanded satchel that held all his jewels and family heirlooms of those families, the second satchel was stuck in a final magically expanded satchel that held a good deal amount of Galleons for him to use to help Neville get better and other things. He kissed his pup's clammy, pale and sweating forehead gently once again and closed his eyes as he silently prayed to Death to keep his pup alive, safe and hidden from all his enemies. 

He strode out of the room where the floo fireplaces stood not too far from his pup. He had picked this spot because everyone avoided being here as early in the morning as it was. Like he said, perfect hiding spot! He apparated as soon as he crossed the line of the ministry wards.

Cynric stared out at the plain-looking streets of Privet Drive, silently searching for the fourth house. He had a child to rescue and no time for Dumbledore to meddle in things that weren’t his own to meddle in! Moving forward he blasted the door down with his magic, his emerald eyes glowing ominously as his bright silver hair rose and waved about in the air with his magic and feelings. He blasted a giant overweight human walrus into the wall. Blood could be seen on the overly obese man’s stomach, he flicked his left wrist out sending a screaming thin blonde-haired woman through the glass doors out into the backyard where the vines and roses started to strangle and stab her repeatedly. He felt no remorse as he did all this, not one single stab of remorse, Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursley were monsters in every sense of the word to him with how he knew they possibly treated his Godson, this worlds ‘Harry potter’ . 

With the two adults dealt with he then ripped open the tiny door of the cupboard under the stairs, seeing a small frail dark-tanned little pup who looked to be maybe two years old when he was four. Clenching his jaw tightly he picked up the frail child-who in his sleep cuddled instantly into the welcoming warmth-he pulled out the invisibility cloak fastening it around himself and the pup so they were covered completely. He cast a few spells to make it seem like Henry Potter had died at the age of three, in this cupboard, before Petunia and Vernon likely removed the body and tossed it somewhere. Just in the nick of time as well since Dumbledore came bursting in with a few Aurors he spelled the child so he could not hear anything that would wake him as he slipped out silently while the Aurors and Albus dealt with and tried to save the two adult muggles that Cynric made sure met a gruesome end through his magic on this very night… Oh yes, there were no regrets at all.

Cynric personally snapped his wand himself just so he couldn’t be tracked by any means as he apparated into the ministry where his first Godson, Neville Longbottom was waiting silently in the shadows sound asleep comfortably in his Godfathers thick furred cloak. Did he steal his second Godson from his grandmother..? There is no evidence to say otherwise, besides he was Neville’s legal guardian, not her , he had fought and won that custody battle over his pup. Just like how he was Henry Potter’s legal guardian and no one else was. Adjusting the enchanted weightless satchel on his right shoulder he picked up Neville with his right arm, thick furred cloak and all, then walked forward swiftly. He had to get to the next apparition point to go to his next phase… 

However, Cynric should have known better than to think that his plan might go to plan for once the way he wanted it to. No, as soon as he entered the hallways leading down into the Department of Mysteries, he gripped the two young children tighter to his broad chest as he tensed when he saw others appear around him. To the back of him was an old archway that looked eerily empty but he knew it wasn’t.. It was filled with some sort of grey mist that screamed possible danger to very unlucky people, and Cynric was one of these very unlucky people. Gritting his teeth together angrily, his pupils slit as he hugged the smaller bodies closer to his chest while backing up, ignoring the panicked yells for him to stop. His instincts were on edge, screaming to him that this old Alpha was a danger to his pups safety, that what he wanted to do with his pups was wrong.

One step from Dumbledore was all it took to change Cynric, little Neville, and little Harry’s fates in Terra.  

Cynric leaped back in fear, keeping the small sleeping children to his chest with his left arm now, only to have his eyes widen as he felt the mist curl around their bodies. It was hard to breathe, the mist filling his mouth, nose, eyes, and even lungs. He couldn’t even hear anything but white static, and so he didn’t know what condition the little ones in his arm would be in. He panicked blindly as he felt the cold grey mist curl around what felt to be a thin paperweight in his chest, it broke, flooding out throughout his body like a strong wave of comforting warmth as he gagged for air, the cold grey mist pulling away and out from his body yet stayed curled gently around the now brightly glowing orb in his chest. 

Stumbling, the lightly tanned male grunted, his emerald eyes glowing with a haunting light in them. His lean body that was formerly standing at five feet and ten inches now stood a proud six feet exactly, some of his scars had faded completely but most stayed stubbornly, his once human ears were now pointed up with sharp points, his middle-back was now to his lower back, just above his rear. His race had changed from human-wixen to Half-Elf-Istari, of course, he didn’t know this… All he knew was that he felt far healthier than he originally did, he grew two inches, and his magic no longer felt bound… Like he could do anything. 

Looking down at the left side of his chest, he noticed that Little Harry’s thin lanky frame had filled out enough so he no longer looked malnourished but instead rather a healthy weight, his dark tanned skin no longer looked as unhealthy and pasty as well with his hair looking fluffy and shiny raven black colour. He had a healthy flush to his little chubby cheeks and life inside his bright emerald eyes he had gotten from his mum, Lily. His magic looked as if it had been freed just as his own had been. Of course, he noticed that Harry’s ears now had a pointed ear tip like himself-not that he knew-he would have to look into that later… Wait, were those wing nubs?! Fuck he really has to look into this later now. 

Neville was beside Harry, curled protectively around him, from within his godfather's hold, still a healthy weight, but his magic looked like it had been freed like Little Harry’s and himself. His skin had gone from a sickly, pasty pale to a healthily flushed light olive with his hair looking like a mass of fluffy and shiny dark brown hair, his ears having a pointed tip like them both. Well then, this was something that he really needed to look into now. Not something he could put off then. 

“Are you pups okay?” Cynric asked the two gently. Neville nodded his head as Harry stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes. He could understand why Harry was shocked, a strange looking bright silver-haired man just saved him from the Dursleys-more like the Durskabans honestly-moving on, now it was time to figure out where the hell they were. He let out a soft sigh as he shook his head in remorse, “ This , this is why I don’t bother to plan things. Things go haywire, oh well, better to just move on now I suppose…” He trailed off when he saw a large wooden village gate in front of him. “Why am I getting an iffy feeling about this?” He had read books back in his fourth life, books describing a realm called Middle Earth, or Arda, a mostly peaceful realm with only one great adversary and evils like Morgoth and then Sauron but beyond that, he knew not what could happen… If he recalled correctly Aunt Petunia had found him reading the final Hobbit book, screamed then forbade him from ever going back to the library. He still did not know how The Hobbit’s final book ended and it pissed him off to no end, he had only managed to read about a quarter way through the large book before she tore it from his grasp. 

Personally, Cynric thought that this One Ring was an awful lot like Tom Riddle and his damn obsession with mutilating his soul to make Horcruxes so he could be ‘immortal’, it really did sound like this Sauron or Morgoth, or whoever it had been, had done just that but only he kept his sanity and made only one so he remains immortal forever. “What’s the saying I kept hearing people say before…? ‘Make the plan, execute the plan, expect the plan to go wrong, throw away the plan! And begin again!’? Sounds like it could be the saying..” He sighed softly before he walked to the gates and then knocked with his right fist. 

“Who goes there?” An older middle-aged man peeked through the crack in the wooden gate to see a light tan-skinned elf with two kids in his left arm, decent clothes on them all and a satchel over his right shoulder. He wasn’t too sure what to think of an elf being here…  Alas he had never had many elves here visiting before either, one of the younger ones in the bigger ones’ arms looked familiar in some sense though. He probably saw an elf similar to one of the younger ones once before when he was much younger… 

“Erm, yes, hello can we be let in?” Cynric smiled sheepishly at seeing the narrowing hazel eyes, “Please? My kids need the rest and so do I as well honestly.” He murmured softly as he shifted Neville and Harry around in his hold till he had a more secure grip on them both. He frowned slightly when the peephole closed harshly with a click, his shoulders sagged as he heaved out a tired sigh and turned to leave only to pause when he heard the large gates slowly creaking open. He whirled around and smiled brightly at this, “Oh thank you!” He walked past the gate and dipped his head to a five feet and five inches tall older middle-aged man who looked to be in his late forties with light olive skin, light brown hair, and hazel eyes. 

“The Inn, The Prancing Pony, is just ahead to the right. You’ll know it when you see it.”  Eddie explained to the respectful elf then watched as he went off towards the inn. He pulled the large wooden gates closed as he let out a soft chuckle, “Welcome to Bree stranger!” He called out loudly to the retreating Elf then smiled faintly as he saw the said strange elf wave a hand back behind him. 

 Cynric nudged the door open to the inn with his foot, ignoring all the stares as he walked forward calmly and cleared his throat softly. “How much for a room?” He hummed softly, listening to the price absentmindedly then pulled out what he assumed to be the correct amount and set it down on the counter. “Alright and which room was it again?” He asked calmly while he shifted the wide awake and very highly curious toddlers around in his secure hold so they couldn’t squirm out of it. He nodded his head, thoughts wandering around as he swiftly turned, then went upstairs before entering the room just to the right of him at the end of the hallway… 

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He looked down in shock at the scrolls in his hands… “Lady Magic seems to have a funny idea as to what is truly amusing…” He sighed tiredly with a shake of his head, “At least it explains the wing nubs for Kairos… And the pointed ears for all three of us.” He grumbles out softly with a shake of his head at this. The main thing that surprised him was the fact that Magic had decided to make Nevi-no Randall-Randall, and Kairos both his children by blood… And not by a mere blood adoption, no Magic had decided to make Cynric the father of his now former godsons he had rescued from neglectful homes, this solved part of his problem if they accidentally somehow went back to their world with Beebrain and Baldymold. The children in question were currently sitting on the bed in front of him. 

“Alright, you two… Names, you both have new names now.” He smiles faintly when he sees Henr-Kairos light up, he doubts that Henr-Kairos grew to know his name just yet like how he hadn’t learned it until preschool. “N…Names? I have a name?” The small, soft voice from Kairos sounded rather weak as if it hadn’t been used in years, he knew depending on how his past selves in different universes were treated that this was more than likely the case. “Wh-why did you think you don’t have a name?” He heard Nevi-Randall murmur aloud in pure worry to this, as Cynric silently watched the two brothers with saddening emerald eyes. 

“B-because my Aunt and Uncle say I am a freak or… Boy. I have no name because those are my names?” Oh, yeah, definitely glad he killed this Petunia and Vernon the way he had!

He nodded his head and brushed his hands through their hair with either hand as he inhaled his pups' scents… Randall’s scent was a mix of mint leaf with a sharp tang of lemon alongside the smell of the faint stirrings of cinnamon within it all. Kairos’s scent was a mix of lilies, fresh rainfall, and faintly of pine within it. “Your relatives were wrong to do so, Kairos-Henry Salvador Mortis-Peverell.” He saw the mini copy of his emerald eyes burst into tears as the young pup sobbed while he hugged Cynric’s neck tightly, he rubbed his pups back in soothing, gentle motions as he frowned softly then kissed the top of his messily-curled raven-black hair. “It’s alright my pup, it’s alright…” He murmured soothingly, “Here in this world you will be going mainly by Kairos Salvador Mortis, alright, pup?” He saw Kairos nod his head sleepily. 

A small smile pulled at Cynric’s lips before he gently tucked Kairos into the sheets then looked over at Randall, “Want to know your new name, pup?” He saw Randall look him over then nod his head, clearly not trusting his voice to speak currently without a break between words or stuttering. It was something they would have to work on once again since the pup was now healthier than a horse once more, the Curse of Death having been removed the moment they crossed worlds, or universes. “Randall-Neville Batair Mortis-Peverell, but you’ll be going by Randall Batair Mortis here in this world alright?” He ran a hand through the pups hair gently, watching as he relaxed under the soothing motion, he had bonded with Randall more than Kairos but that was only because he managed to get ahold of the pup earlier. 

He tucked him in under the sheets besides Karios then kissed his forehead as well, “Now get some sleep, pup.” He watched over them as they seemed to be in some sort of dream-like trance, he had to remind himself that they were elves , so they did not need as much sleep as a mortal man. He turned his gaze back to the scroll he knew he would have to burn soon, he spread it open to reread it once more. 

Names: Randall-Neville Batair Mortis-Peverell and Kairos-Henry Salvador Mortis-Peverell

Ages: Five and Four

Genders: Male and Male

Secondary Genders: Pup and Pup

Birthdays: Mede 30th 2931 Third Age, and Mede 31st 2932 Third Age

Races: Half Silvan Half Snow Elf, and Half Avariel Half Snow Elf

Sub Races: Istari and Istari

Sire: Sorondil(Randall){Silvan Elf}, and Sailatar(Kairos){Avariel Elf}

Bearer/Carrier: Cynric-Aasim Tutela-Alden Mortis-Peverell{Half Human, Half Snow Elf}

Name: Cynric-Aasim Tutela-Alden Mortis-Peverell

Age: 126

Gender: Male

Secondary Gender: Omega

Birthday: Blooting 31st, 2815 Third Age

Race: Half Human Half Snow Elf

Sub Race: Istari

He didn’t care about much else but he did wonder how he knew what those names meant, then he decided not to question it and just chalked it up to Magic herself allowing it. Or maybe it was someone else… With the information now safely in his head he burned the scroll in his hand until there was nothing left, not even ashes… 

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Thrimidge 17th, 2936

Cynric laughed freely for once, almost completely relaxed as he watched his little pups playing around in the field of tall, green grass they had found. It had been a confusing month and a half, though the months here didn’t make much sense to him but he figured it out… Barely. He leaned back against a tree, arms folded over his chest as he watched in fond amusement while his pups tackled each other into the grass. Randall and Kairos both had regained muscle mass that they lost over the years, he had fixed Kairos’s height since glasses were expensive as hell in this world, he wasn’t the best at potions but after a third try he had managed to pull off and make a perfect eye-sight correction potion. Kairos had cried happily that he didn’t need those wretched glasses anymore. He had been more than happy when he suggested to his pup about burning the glasses with his magic as practice for the two. He wasn’t the best cook in the whole of Arda so he had taken to hunting with a bow and arrows for a while and selling it to the butcher for this realm's money before buying as healthy meals as he could for his pups. It had taken him a week but he ended up leaving Bree and heading out east, where he had been told they were small people and large leathery feet with hair atop them, called “Halflings” they had said with fond amusement. He knew them to be Hobbits and he would not insult them by calling them such a lesser name, he had informed his pups not to repeat that word when they finally found the Hobbits in this Shire. 

What had taken him a week to get here caused him to take longer for the Hobbits to get used to his presence here with his pups, not many were fond of him and his pups, but that was fine. He cared not for their opinions really, this was a safe place for his pups to be raised and that was all he cared about. Of course, he may have forgotten to ask the year, otherwise he would have changed his mind faster than Merlin himself about raising his pups here like he wanted to. He found this out when he finally ran into Bilbo Baggins, the Hobbit that helped the Dwarrow reclaim Erebor but when Cynric had asked the proper Hobbit how things were going after dealing with the Dwarrow he had peered up at him strangely before saying something that caused his blood to run cold in fear. 

“I’m sorry? I’ve never met any Dwarrow-least of all thirteen of them, dear sir!” Oh… Oh shit, oh shit! He cursed sharply in his head as it hit him that Bilbo Baggin’s looked at least five years younger than fifty, leaving him at forty-five. 

“I am so sorry , I have some foresight but not much of it, I didn’t realise what year it was, is all.” He hurriedly held his hands out in a placating manner, well he wasn't lying about this really, he did have visions of foresight but never of this thing exactly. It had always been glimpses of a strange land, many different kinds of peoples and beings… Then bursts of flames scorched parts of the earth and the pine trees before a red-scaled Wyvern entered into a mountain with fleeing short, stout men that had long beards… Now that he was thinking about it, he had clearly been seeing Arda in all his past lives with his Foresight, had he really been meant to come here with his pups? “Plus my pups have been keeping me awake so time may have slipped in my head a little with the year, I do apologise again.” He dipped his head to Bilbo Baggins then turned and with quick graceful strides to the playing light olive skinned pup with fluffy dark brown hair and hazel-green eyes and a dark-skinned pup with messily-curly raven-black hair and emerald eyes like his bearers. He kneeled down with his knee-high dragonhide boots that went over his dark midnight-blue skin-tight pants with a pale grey tunic that ended at his knees with only the front and back, the sides were open to allow for easier movement for fighting. 

He turned around with both pups cradled in his left arm together while he adjusted the satchel over his right shoulder for him to start walking because no way was he allowing his pups near those Dwarrow! Terrible manners they all had, plus they didn’t like elves! Half-elf or not he was still very much an elf and his pups were full elves, no way was he going to have them deal with such slurs being thrown at them in Khuzdul, a language they did not know or understand none the less! He paused however when he saw Bilbo Baggins standing curiously in front of him, curly golden-auburn cut short with almond-shaped forest-green eyes and a button nose. He had pointed ears that looked similar to an elf’s except it was similar to that of a leaf really. He had a broad frame with a round belly, wearing a dark brown waistcoat with a cream button-up shirt and a pair of knee-high light brown pants. All in all his outfit went together pretty well, “Uh…. Is something the matter?”

“I never told you my name, that was rude of me, allow me to introduce myself. Baggins, Bilbo Baggins, it’s nice to meet you..?” Well… It would be rude to ignore him after he’s introduced himself to me, although I know his name already. He sighed softly at his thoughts as he realised just what he was probably going to do and could possibly regret it later on in his life. 

“Cynric Tutela Mortis, this is my eldest son at five years old, Randall Batair Mortis, and my youngest son at the age of four, Kairos Salvador Mortis.” He gestured to Randall first then the smaller pup within Randalls arms that was Kairos. 

“Oh your youngest is so young for his age!” Cynric smiled sadly, “It was rough for everyone this last winter I am afraid.” He didn’t want too much attention on his pups and him so he cleared his throat gently, “Was there a reason you came up to me?” Bilbo was an omega, he could detect the faint, suppressed whiff of Oak trees, wild, tall fields of wheat, and the faintest scent of rich earth just under those ones. 

“Would you three like to have some tea? It’s tea time after all.” Cynric knew right then and there that he was going to adopt Bilbo Baggins as his little brother, nothing would stop him now. He nodded his head quietly before lessening his long, graceful strides so that Bilbo could easily keep up with the pace and lead him to his Smial. 

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It had only been an hour of talking with Bilbo about several different topics, his pups being drawn into the conversation by the considerate Hobbit Omega before him, and yeah, this was only affirming his ideas of adopting the Hobbit as his little brother. Bilbo reminded him of Devon Harvey the Second, his youngest sibling and his youngest brother, but Bilbo was also very different from his younger brother so he knew that he was no exact copy and never would be. 

During that hour his plate kept mysteriously refilling when he turned to answer any questions that his pups asked him only to turn around and find the empty plate suddenly full again. He had a hunch it was Bilbo doing it, but he had no proof besides the fact he was the only other adult in the room. “You’re far too skinny for an Elf.”

“I’m Half-Elf actually.” Cynric corrected him gently, “And I’m well past my final growing stages, this is probably going to be as much as I ever fill out.” He saw Bilbo’s mouth open then sighed softly, “Bilbo I am a hundred and twenty-six years old, believe me if I grow anymore or fill out anymore-which I doubt to begin with, Snow Elven Omega’s don’t fill out that much due to where they reside in the northern mountains with all the Cold Drakes-and I doubt I would grow any taller than I am, I am surprised I did not stop growing at five feet and ten inches.” He mused tiredly to the other, “I am eight years past my legal majority, it is far too late for me to grow anymore than I have.”

“I still say you’re too underweight.” Bilbo sniffed, causing Cynric to laugh softly with a fond shake of his head, his hair having been pulled into a loose, messy bun atop his head, a few strands of wavy-curling silver hair falling in front of his hooded emerald eyes. 

“If you must feed anyone please do keep feeding my pups. They still have three whole stages to grow to a taller height than me and to fill out better.” His pups in question perked up at hearing this then started to hastily eat more food which caused him to huff softly in fond amusement, “I need to finish carving my staff… It’s so close to being done it’s a little ridiculous.” He sighed softly with a small smile when he saw the two bicker over who got the last chocolate covered croissant that Bilbo had made as snacks for Tea Time. 

“A staff? You’re an Istari?” Cynric looked at Bilbo then smiled sheepishly as he realised he mentioned his thoughts aloud about his staff he needed to finish carving. “Yes, I am, though I’m a little different from your normal everyday Istari, my magic is… Different.” 

“Different how?”

“Well, I'm more intune with it and the magic around us. I’m able to call upon it easier, silently if I really wanted to, and I have a vast reserve of it dwelling within my chest. Magic for me is like how your heart works for you, I have one but if the magic in my chest was to corrupt or get broken or even cracked during a ritual to restore my power then terrible things could happen if I don’t do them correctly to stop the bleeding of magic in my soul.” He decided to explain in a way he hoped made sense to the Hobbit, “I can sense untouched magic in you, would you like to learn to use it?” He could see the gears turning in Bilbo’s head, “Magic is an extension of the body, so if you wanted to then I could train you with my pups but you would have to exercise and gain muscle. Your body is just as much of a temple as your soul is for housing magic. There are many things I can teach you depending on how strong your magic is, but the stronger your body is first, the stronger your magic will be when you finally reach for it.”

“I’ll do it then! Oh before I forget, would you like to live with me? It gets dreadfully lonely in this ol’ Smial alone.” Bilbo’s ears drooped slightly on his head and he felt his heart ache for the smaller omega. 

“I wouldn’t mind if you truly do not mind my pups and I staying here with you, little brother.” Cynric dipped his head slightly then chuckled softly at the look on his face, “Congratulations, you’ve now been adopted by an old elf, you’re also an Uncle now.” He smirked slightly. 

“You’re not that old for an elf!”

“Sure I am-”

“No, really, you are not!”

“Okay I am not then-but you’re still becoming my legal adopted little brother.”

“I am a fully grown-Hobbit! I do not need to be adopted by anyone!”

“Hmmm… Where’s your Thain? I want to file the little brother adoption papers.”

“I-what-excuse you?!”

“I…I think Mo-momma is very… very set on this, Unc-Uncle Bilbo.”

“Mind leading me to your Thane?”

“Is!! Is! Is!”

“No, absolutely not-where are you going?! Are you just going to leave your pups with me to find The Thane and that paperwork?!”

“Yes, because you’re their Uncle now, so bond more with them as I go search for The Thane to fill out the needed adoption paperwork.”

“Cynric! Cynric come back here right this instant!! CYNRIC!!”

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Solmath 17th, 2937

It was a little past the start of a new year. Cynric with the help of Bilbo managed to teach Randall to control his stutter and be able to talk without much breaks needed in words, to say Randall cried happily while hugging the two was an understatement. Cynric was outside in the back garden of Bilbo’s Smial, teaching his little brother and his pups both how to wield magic now that it was warmer… It was going fairly smoothly and during the winter he had taught Bilbo several different ways to defend himself, fighting would come after he learned some semblance of stronger control over his magic… Which at the moment was causing Bilbo to turn invisible when he did not want to be. He waved his ebony carved staff with a soft chuckle to remove the illusion spell his magic was subconsciously casting since being released finally. 

“Alright, it’s lunch, we should take a break from now. I also need to go drop by Bree in order to check on those ward runes I buried a bit from the town to keep them mostly safe from Orcs and the like.” He reached a hand down to his pups, ruffling their still growing-out hair which caused Kairos to grumble wordlessly as he swatted at Cynric’s hand, who merely smirked then ruffled the bed of messy curly raven-black hair even more. He kneeled down then kissed the top of his head, “Be good for Uncle Bilbo, Kairos.”

“St-still can’t believe you managed to convince my cousin to let you adopt me into your family as your little Brother, and that you had the paperwork for it!” Bilbo spluttered out, causing Cynric to smirk in amusement as emerald eyes twinkled fondly, Randall laughed softly at his Uncle’s clear annoyance by this factor. Kairos grinned unabashedly up at Cynric and Bilbo, “Why, little Brother, you wound me so~” He teased with his smirk widening, “It wouldn’t be any fun if I told you how I got my hands on those family adoption papers!” He laughed lightly as he side-stepped him when he took a swing at him, his smirk changing to a grin as he easily strode out of the house with deep bell-like laughter leaving his lips.

It was Second Yule when Bilbo finally found out about Cynric’s creature inheritance, it had been freezing and Bilbo was not back from his daily rounds of giving out food for the other Hobbit’s to eat on so they would not starve. Worried and concerned, Cynric had told Randall to watch over Kairos and to not follow him outside into the cold. He grabbed his thick-furred cloak, flung it over his shoulders then stormed out into the cold. The heat in his core was declining rapidly in the harsh, storming blizzard of snow, he knew he had to work quickly and find Bilbo before his core heat ran out. He didn’t need to fall into hibernation or a coma for the rest of the Second Yule season when there was only about a day left, possibly more if this blasted blizzard continued as it was, he knew it wouldn’t be good for the Hobbits who needed to plant seeds after Yule for them to have much needed grown food for the upcoming months after the first harvest. 

Cynric was kneeling down against the cool grassy ground, ebony staff standing upright beside him while his fingers dug into the earth below him, feeding some of his magic into the natural leylines and the runes that were buried under the earth just above them, they didn’t need constant attention but he found it was safer than sorry to make the wards around the town stronger so they would safer… He also might have added a bit of extra without them knowing so they could have better harvests for the growing children and faster-growing population. “Everything seems to be in working order.” He smiled as he stood gracefully, grabbing his Ebony staff with his signature silver-blue clothing on him he was slowly becoming known for.

By the time Cynric had found Bilbo he could see he was desperately running from some monsters on the back of wargs… An Orc, those were fucking Orcs chasing after his little Brother like he was merely prey to play with! His blood boiled, his core cooling rapidly still while he let out an earth-shattering roar of pure rage that caused the ground to shake, boulders to crack and tree’s to creak and groan as his body crackled with raw magic. HIS little Brother! HIS LITTLE BROTHER! This was not a toy for a mere Orc to play around with! This was his precious little brother, Uncle to his pups! He didn’t know how it happened all he knew was that he had suddenly shifted from Half-Elf to his Creature form, a seventeen point thirty-seven metres long silver-scaled Wyvern with wings that spanned longer than his body that were torn along the edges of his membrane. He had many spikes and feathers that decorated his forehead, sides of his head all the way to his lithe chest. His body was narrow, angled more sharply for flight over mountains and tree’s clearly with two deadly-sharp horns atop his head that were long and jagged and trailed all the way back to the start of his neck. His hindquarters were strong for kicking off on high places, his claws sharper still with a long whip-like tail that was thick at his rear then thinned out towards the end before thickening again with a cluster of sharp spikes protruding from the tip of his tail to cause more damage.

“Now there’s no need to pay me anything, I didn’t even fix anything. The wards are strong and healthy with the natural leylines I put them above to take a little over the years. The wards will grow stronger as they age, don’t move them or it’ll all break and as long as you do not expand beyond the borders, which you still have a large berth to expand if it’s needed, then you and anyone that travels into here will be safe.” He explained with a soft smile to the men who were listening eagerly to him, he pulled out the map and tapped the red x’s he marked on there. “X marks the spots where I have the ward stones buried, be sure to keep this copy of the map safe this year, yeah?” He waved at them before he turned and strode off swiftly back towards the Shire, back to his pups and little Brother.

In the next three moments he had leaped forward, easily pinning the Orc’s under his claws as he roared angrily in their faces, large emerald eyes of the Wynvren glaring down into their very souls before he snapped them up, promptly eating them with a gag before he spat their bodies out with a harsh, shuddering cough along his huge frame. He growled threateningly at the rest he hadn’t tried to eat, the wargs stumbling back with a whimper of fear before they turned tail and ran along with the few Orcs that barely managed to not get caught. He gagged again and coughed up an Orcs head in front of himself then blinked owlishly before he peered under his wings to look where Bilbo laid safely directly under his spiked chest. “Oh that was naaaaasstty!” He wheezed out with a whine then stuffed his muzzle deep into the snow to gulp some down and get rid of the vile taste in his mouth. 

Cynric hummed as he walked along the road towards the Shire, his left hand clasping his Ebony staff tightly in one hand, he had heard rumours that people of Arda were starting to call him Cynric the Silver if only due to the silver clothes he normally wore, he found it amusing but so long as there were no rumours of where he lived then he, his pups, and brother would all be fine. His gaze drifted along the edge of the road, the shadows seem longer today… I wonder why? He frowned slightly at these thoughts, it wasn’t cloudy out, in fact it was very sunny with no clouds in the sky so the fact that there were so many shadows along the side of the road caused alarm bells in his head for some reason…

“Cy…Cynric?!” Bilbo gaped with an open mouth at the giant silver scaled Wyvern above him. “You-you’re a dragon?!” Cynric finally lifted his elegant muzzle from the snow with a grimace of distaste, “Wyvern actually, and at the same time no, i’m not. It’s part of what makes me so different from your world's Istari, it’s an inheritance I got from my mother.” He explained while he carefully sat his haunched down, being careful not to squash the tiny Hobbit below him as his tail curled, and his wings blocked out the whirling thick-snowed, cold wind so he could see more clearly, “She never got this inheritance you see, it skipped a generation or two before deciding I would make a good Smoke-Wyvern, must of done something as a pup for it to decide I was the better choice out of my family.” He leaned his head further down, his slim yet thick covered in spikes all around clinking in the wind while he peered down at Bilbo with a large, worried emerald eye, “Is there something wrong with this form..?”

There was a small silence as he watched Bilbo in growing, silent unease. “You look similar to what we call Dragons here. Dragons don’t mean good news for us here, Cynric, and you just announced yourself to the whole of everyone around the Shire, I don’t know how far your roar went but you have let everyone know there is one more living and breathing Dragon in their minds besides the one other.” He shifted back, his varying shades of silver with hints of blue clothing on him as he wrapped Bilbo up silently in his thick-furred Cloak then held him in his arms, “I am a Smoke-Wyvern and I will correct any such person that assumes that I am a bloody Dragon.”

There had to be a reason there were alarm bells going off in his head as he hurried his pace along the road, getting closer and closer to the Shire. He visibly relaxed when he saw his little Brother sitting crisscrossed on the grassy ground in front of his Smial, teaching Randall and Kairos how to braid flower crowns with a tray of different deserts on the grassy ground near the three for them to snack on. “Whatever are the three of you doing?” He laughed softly while he placed his staff upon his back, his magic holding it there in place for him as he strode forward then sat down in front of the two grinning pups and a grinning younger omega.

Yes… He thought while watching with fond emerald yes as Randall went into vivid detail about making flower crowns, Kairos nodding his head along eagerly in agreement. This is Home… Kairos was still learning how to speak properly, the Dursley’s never started trying to teach him how to speak properly despite his pup's brilliant smarts. These three are my Home… He thought fondly with a small smile as Bilbo gently interrupted to get the pups attention back on the flower crowns they were about to destroy on accident.