Trigger Warning: Child Abuse
"Are you sure we can't take him to a hospital?" Ophelia asked, cradling Nathan on her lap. She tucked a blanket around him for comfort, ignoring the sour smell that clung to the boys. It wasn't their fault their hygiene was neglected. They had suffered enough.
The abuse was undeniable. Nathan was emaciated, his skin mottled with bruises. It was so alarming that, under other circumstances, they might have called the police on those Muggles. But they couldn't. Not because the abuse wasn't real, but because they knew—especially from the way Sirius spoke—that if that old man intervened, the boys would be sent straight back into that toxic home. Never underestimate the power Dumbledore has. Sirius always says.
Harry looked better than Nathan, though still shorter and thinner than Ophelia liked.
"We can't," Marius said firmly as he kept his eyes on the road. "You know why, Ophelia. We may be squibs, but we still need a proper healer. Muggle doctors are useless with our kind."
"Um... what is a squid? Or a mug-gel?" the little boy asked, his voice small and uncertain.
Ophelia glanced at Marius, caught off guard. How could they explain this? Should they? Or should they leave it to Sirius?
"Perhaps give him the short version," Marius muttered.
Ophelia nodded and spoke gently. "Well, Harry, you may not know this, but you come from a family where some people can do... special things. It's called magic."
She expected curiosity, maybe wonder. Instead, Harry flinched.
"Is something wrong?" she asked softly.
Harry hesitated, his voice barely a whisper. "We... we're not allowed to use that word. It's a bad word."
"What word?"
"Ma... magic." The word trembled out of him, almost inaudible, but it was there.
Ophelia, still confused, asked gently, "Magic? What is wrong with it?"
Harry shook his head, and she immediately noticed the tremor running through him. Oh dear. What had those people done to this child? She drew him closer, letting him lean against her, and rubbed his arms softly to ease his distress.
"It's alright," she murmured. "I'm sorry for saying the word. But listen, Harry—it isn't a bad word. I know it feels hard for you to say it now, but perhaps one day you won't be afraid of it.
Silence hung between them. Then Ophelia, out of curiosity decided to ask. "Harry. I know this is hard, but what happens when the m-word is mentioned in your house? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
The boy peek at her before answering. "They don't like that." Harry said.
"I see. It's only when the word is mentioned right?" Ophelia asked.
Harry shook his head. "They always punish us. We were once locked in the cupboard because I was on top of the roof."
"Roof? What roof?"
"The school roof."
"Why were you there Harry?"
Harry tilted his head while looking at her. "I don't know." He said almost a whisper. "One day I was in the classroom. The next I am on the roof."
Marius stopped the car and immediately turned around his seat. "What did you say?"
Harry was started. Do they think he is a freak? Are they going to kick him and Nathan out?
Ophelia glared at Marius for scaring the poor thing, "That actually happened, Harry?"
The little boy nodded hesitantly. Ophelia and Marius glanced at each other knowingly. Isn't that accidental magic? Squibs can't have accidental magic. But an actual magical child does. And judging from the type of accidental magic. It's not a weak one either. Apparating without intention is a not easy to do even accidentally. Even more so if it is a child. Does this mean all this time, the boys are magical?
*****
BANG! Sirius burst through the door, the slam reverberating through the house like a thunderclap.
"Are they here? Are they safe?" he shouted, his voice raw with panic. "Where are they?"
His uncle recoiled at the sudden intrusion. "Goodness, Sirius. Have some manners. Must you slam the door?
Sirius completely ignored his uncle. "But you are not lying to me, uncle? They are here, right?"
His uncle paused, uncertain how to answer. Then Esme entered the door.
"Esme. Your aunt is in the second room to the left. Someone there is in dire need of healing. I must speak with Sirius for a moment."
Esme nodded and head towards the second floor.
"What? Who's hurt? They're hurt?" Sirius's tone shifted sharply, the edge of anger unmistakable.
Marius recognized it at once. He knew that temper well, the dangerous spark that ran through the Black family. Anger in their blood often led to ruin, and he had witnessed it many times, even in Sirius himself.
Marius braced, knowing he would have to calm him before that temper drove him to something drastic. "I need you to calm down first."
"Don't tell me to calm down! If those Muggles ever laid a hand on Harry, I'll—"
Marius coughed and glanced past Sirius. The man turned, and there in the doorway stood a very small boy, peeking shyly from behind the frame. He was tiny, with untidy black hair and vibrant green eyes glinting behind broken spectacles.
Sirius knew him instantly. Even as a baby, he had always been able to tell which one was Harry.
"Harry?" he breathed.
"Yes?" came the soft reply.
Relief crashed over Sirius so suddenly that his knees nearly gave way.
*****
Esme was unsettled by the urgency of her aunt and uncle's summons. It had taken her and Sirius some time to find a safe place to apparate. They could hardly vanish from the restaurant without raising suspicion—the staff would have wondered why they hadn't simply walked out of the toilets.
When she arrived at the house, she followed Uncle Marius's instructions and stepped into the room. She froze. A boy, no more than four or five, lay before her. Frail and emaciated, so much so that Esme's first instinct was to call the Aurors. What had been done to this child?
"Aunt Ophelia. What is going on?" Esme demanded.
Ophelia's expression was grave as she explained. "This is Nathan Potter. Harry, his brother, is Sirius's godchild. They are the brothers of the Boy Who Lived. They were left with Muggle relatives, presumed to be squibs. Sirius has been searching for them."
"They are magical, Esme," Ophelia whispered, careful not to disturb the boy. "Harry told me about the incidents—green hair, suddenly found himself on top of school roofs. I may be a squib, but that sounds very much like accidental magic to me."
Esme nodded slowly. "It does." The revelation struck her deeply. These were children of one of the most famous families in wizardkind. Charlus Potter was celebrated for defeating Voldemort. Few knew he had siblings at all. If she recalled correctly, the Potters had two more children after him. To learn that Charlus was part of a triplet set was astonishing.
But the greater shock was this: the brothers of the Boy Who Lived had been abused by their Muggle relatives. If such knowledge spread, it would ignite a scandal across the wizarding world.
"They are animals, they are!" Ophelia hissed. "Those boys locked in a broom cupboard, starved, beaten. Even by Muggle standards, it is horrendous."
"I will look into it," Esme said as she approached the bed.
She lifted her wand and traced a slow arc in the air. A soft glow enveloped Nathan, but then a darker shimmer bled through, an ominous shadow clinging to him. Esme's brow furrowed.
"What is that?" Ophelia whispered, her voice tight with fear.
Esme's gaze remained fixed on the boy, her expression grave. "I need to speak with Sirius urgently."
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