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Chapter One. Emigrate 

Year: 1983, POV: Hannibal Lecter, Location: Paris France-Lecter Estate

Count Hannibal Lecter, the Lord, and Head of the most ancient and most noble pureblood vampire families; Lecter, Evans, Selwyn, and Sayre, is concerned. Well, perhaps concerned isn't the right word. He is worried. He is worried for both himself and his adopted son, nephew, and heir one Hadrian Regulus Peverell. He adopted Hadrian five years ago after the child's birth parents, Lady Lillian Peverell-Potter nee Evans and Lord James Peverell-Potter were murdered on Samhain night. 

It was a hard time for them both. Not only were Hadrian's parents, Lillian and James, murdered but so were Petunia Dursley and her family of three. Both Lillian and Petunia were two of his first cousins. Their families were murdered within a week of each other in supposedly separate attacks. However, according to the family tapestry, they were all killed by the killing curse before their bodies were mutilated beyond even the point of their family's natural necromancer rejuvenation abilities. Only Lillian's one-year-old son, Hadrian, survived with his body intact. 

Whoever found little Hadrian also knew where Lillian's elder sister Petunia lived, but not of her death as he was left on her doorstep during the night. Thankfully one of the muggle neighbors found him the next morning while on a jog and contacted the muggle police who in turn contacted him. He immediately canceled his appointments for the day, packed, and left Paris to pick up young Hadrian who was wrongly named Harry James Potter in the letter left with him. 

Gaining custody of him in the muggle world was simple enough. Even with the inconsistencies in the letter left with him. A simple DNA test easily proved their blood relation. Explaining the inconsistencies in the listed name with evidence provided in the form of a birth certificate, letters, emails, videos, and photos delivered by the family lawyers proved sufficient enough for the muggle courts. The magical world, however, was not to be so easily swayed. 

For whatever reason, the magical world has declared young Hadrian, who was a one-year-old child at the time, the defeater of their current Dark Lord, a 70-year-old man, in battle. It's preposterous and could even be called hilarious if a whole nation didn't believe the claims. Additionally, his nephew is expected to perform such a feat again. To make matters worse, Hadrian's magical guardianship and his families voting seats on the Wizengamot and the muggle house of Lords had been illegally changed to that of the headmaster of Lillian's old high school. Overall the magical side of things was a mess and still is. 

Thankfully with the help of the goblins at Gringotts bank, the British Aurors, and the former British Minister everything was easily switched over to him after they tested them both for blood relation and family magic. As with the muggle courts, a birth certificate, letters, and photos were all used to provide proof of Hadrian's true name. Since then, he and Hadrian have lived comfortably and compatibility in his villa in Paris France. As of late, Hannibal has even begun training Hadrian on how to hunt their preferred meat and blood alongside his basic survival training.

That said, he does not expect things to remain this easy. The headmaster of Hogwarts, Lillian's old high school, is still kicking up a fuss over the lawsuit Hannibal, Gringotts, and both the muggle and magical British Ministry have pressed against him. Thus far Albus Dumbledore has been charged with line theft, kidnapping, child abandonment, misuse and illegal use of Lordship seats, and misuse of funds. Within the four months, it took to gain custody of Hadrian and prove by blood, and later by magic, that he is indeed his biological nephew, the headmaster had helped himself to Hadrian's several; bank vaults, properties, family Grimoires, and Lordship voting seats. In addition, the man had signed a marriage contract with the Weasley family without the permission of any of Hadrian's heads of house. 

The Headmaster, one Albus Dumbledore, still insists that he is Hadrian's guardian and claims to be raising him to be a savior to wizarding England. Despite several people in the government knowing the truth, the public masses believe him. To make matters worse, the man has never seen or searched for Hadrian since he abandoned him on the doorstep, at night, six years ago. Based on the evidence, no one in the know believes Albus Dumbledore to even know young Hadrian's true name and blood status, let alone the fact that he's not where he abandoned him. 

To reiterate the magical side of things is still a mess. In addition, if they are to stay in Europe, Hadrian, once he turns eleven, would be obligated to attend one of Europe's three prominent magical schools. None of which are acceptable by ICW standards. At Durmstrang Institute in Germany, they teach exclusively dark magic. Hannibal will absolutely not allow Hadrian to attend Durmstrang so long as Igor Karkaroff, a former world terrorist, remains Headmaster. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France is mildly acceptable however, they currently teach exclusively grey magic at the school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland, is out of the question as there they teach exclusively light magic. To make matters worse, Albus Dumbledore is the current Headmaster of Hogwarts. 

All of the listed schools refuse to provide weaponry or exercise classes and focus exclusively on one branch of magic. Additionally, he is beginning to fear what would become of himself and Hadrian should anyone discover just who Hadrian is believed to be. Which is why Hannibal is considering moving to America, Japan, or China before the year is up. After all, it is only a matter of time before someone in Dumbledore's pocket notices Petunia and her family are not raising Hannibal's nephew. In fact, it's a wonder such a thing has yet to occur as the family's been dead for six years. 

There are only three things keeping Hannibal and Hadrian in Europe. They are; their seats on the muggle and magical house of Lords, Hannibal's careers as a muggle and magical mind healer, and Hadrian's magical and muggle schooling. Hannibal has already moved to have proxies act in his and Hadrian's steed in order to prevent any more assassination attempts. Something which no seven years old should ever have to deal with. He's long since taken the initiative to have Hadrian trained in archery, judo, karate, fencing and proper sword fighting in addition to the wilderness and urban survival training. 

Altogether Europe holds too much danger, pressure and unrealistic expectations of them. Mind made up, Hannibal gracefully stands and moves to begin planning their move. They will need to buy a new mansion or update one of the existing ones whenever they move to. With a plan in place, he decides to bring the topic up with Hadrian and ask for his preferred county before initiating the move itself. While he has decided they will be moving he has not decided on where. He will leave that up to Hadrian.


Year: 1983, POV: Hannibal Lecter, Location: Paris France-Lecter Estate

"I don't understand, Uncle Hanni. Why are we considering moving?" Seven-year-old Hadrian asks confused over dinner that night before taking a bite of his garlic and lemon mashed red potatoes. Most species of vampires gain no nutritional value from fruit and vegetables. Hadrian and himself, however, are living vampires and can in fact process most human food. Being at the top of the vampire hierarchy has its advantages.

"I have discovered it is no longer safe for us to live in Europe," Hannibal says before taking a bite of his medium-rare filet mignon. It is of course cut from his preferred meat, a muggle human. The meat is just rare enough to be seen as widely acceptable by human standards.

"Why not?" Hadrian asks before eating the seared french green bean speared on the end of his fork. As usual, Hannibal smiles at the sight of his child eating vegetables. According to his research, such things are not typical in young children, especially young vampires. He has always taken Hadrian's exception as proof of his own culinary skills.

Hannibal takes a bite of his own garlic and lemon mashed red potatoes while he thinks his answer over again. He has always been overly cautious of his words, especially around people he actually cares about. It's an aspect of himself he stopped worrying over when Hadrian was a toddler. Children can often easily and innocently overshare. "As you are aware, the Headmaster of your parents' former high school, Albus Dumbledore, is overly invested in you." When Hadrian nods to show he understands that much Hannibal continues. "It is outstanding that no one has yet to inform him of our living situation. The man is still fighting our lawyers in court over his perceived loss of your vaults, seats, property, and homes. As far as he's aware you're currently living a muggle life with your late Aunt Petunia." When Hadrian sits his silverware down Hannibal stops and waits for him to dab his mouth and ask his question.

"I was under the impression that Aunt Petunia was a vampire as well as her husband and son. Why would anyone expect them to live exclusively as muggles?"

' Ah, I had forgotten I haven't explained this yet .' Hannibal thinks to himself while the sips at his wine, a light, and delicious Pinot Noir laced with enough muggle blood to sate his hunger but not be detected in most muggle scans. "Your Aunt Petunia lived primarily in the muggle world despite her magic and ancestry," he explains slowly putting down his wine glass as his fangs retract behind his lips.

"Oh," Hadrian says with a frown before continuing. "that is weird. Were my parents like that as well?" He asks before beginning to cut a piece of his filet mignon cut from the same pig as Hannibal's own.

"No." Hannibal continues after dabbing at his own mouth. "Your Mother, Lillian, and your father, James, lived in both worlds in equal measure. Much like we do." Hannibal responds pausing to take another bite of his filet mignon, His fangs lengthen inside his closed mouth to greedily suck up the vitamin-rich juice that feeds his kind before he begins chewing the still moist meat. 

"It's strange, how little I know about my parents and their lives," Hadrian says after a pause in which they were both savoring their meal. "Just yesterday I saw a book written about my parents and myself in the local magical library. On the cover, there was that same photo of us they continue to illegally use in every promotional poster for the light. I remember asking myself, "What were they really like?'' It's becoming rarer. Sometimes, however, I still wonder if they would approve of who I've become." Hadrian says before continuing to eat his garlic and herb seared filet mignon.

"I will make sure to contact our lawyers about the existence of yet another series of books illegally written about you." Hadrian nods his head and smiles gratefully prompting Hannibal to continue. "As for your parents,” Hannibal says beginning to cut into his meat once more. “I do not know for certain as they have passed on, however, I like to believe they would be proud of you and who you have become.” Hannibal pauses to take a bite his food. Once he has savored the flavor and taste he swallows and responds. “Your Mother and I were close. I was even listed as their first choice of guardian in their wills. Like us, your Mother Lillian hunted and ate muggles. Your father, however, did not as he was a vegan."

Hadrian looks up from his meal surprised. "Really? Do you know what made him become a vegan?" Hadrian asked perplexed before taking a sip of his grape juice laced with fresh blood.

"I believe it may have had something to do with his animagus form,” Hannibal says as he spreads warm goat butter over a fresh slice of french bread. “From what your Mother told me he started to favor becoming a vegetarian around his third year of high school when he fused with his animal spirit.” Hannibal pauses to bite, chew and swallow his warm buttered bread. “He became a complete vegan after graduation."

"What was his form?" Hadrian asks clearly amused while he finishes the last of his garlic and lemon mashed red potatoes.

"A deer," Hannibal responds equally amused after finishing his off steak. "His friends referred to him as Prongs and you as Prongset. I believe they each had a nickname to match their animagus forms. As you know your blood adopted father Lord Sirius Black-Lupin is a grim and goes by Padfoot despite your pendant to call him Paddy. His husband, your step-father Lord Remus Black-Lupin is nicknamed Moony after his werewolf form. The fact that you still call them Paddy and Moony simply enforces their nicknames. The traitor Peter Pettigrew was a rat called Wormtail.”

“What about my mother? Was she an animagi or did she never discover her animagus form.” Hadrian asks as he spears another seared green bean.

“Like us, your mother was a ravenstag," Hannibal says taking another sip of his Pinot Noir wine laced with blood.

"Do you know what form of magic my parents favored?" 

"Lillian was excellent in charms and potions," Hannibal says proudly. "She had her masteries in both subjects and wrote several published books on the topic. As for your father-” Hannibal pauses in remembrance unknowingly allowing respect to shine clear in his hazel-maroon eyes. “-James, he was better at transfiguration and herbology. I have personally seen him mix the two in previously unprecedented battle tactics. I believe James founded a new form of magic from the two.” Hannibal looks back down at his plate anger flashing through his eyes as he continues. “Sadly he was never able to publish his findings as your parents were murdered in their youth."

"They sound like they couldn't have been more different," Hadrian says aghast. "How did they ever even get together?"

"I know I haven't dated enough for you to know, however, every couple has their differences and similarities. That is what makes them work." Hannibal patiently explains.

"You barely date anyone," Hadrian says with an eye roll. "You're over three centuries and you still haven't met your soulmate. I’m sure your Wilhelm wouldn't stake you if you-”

“Hadrian,” Hannibal says looking at his adopted son and heir in a clear warring.

“Sorry.” Hadrian says abashed “I just want you to be happy.” There's a pause in which both continue eating then “What were my parents' similarities?"

"Your parents were both battle mages,” Hannibal responds proudly of Hadrian’s growing ability to drop uncomfortable subjects. “Additionally, I know Lillian was trained extensively in muggle weaponry and your father could weld a gun and sword with the best of them. They both fought in the frontlines of the war that has wracked magical Europe for four centuries now. Despite what the masses believe, they did not fight for the Light. They fell in love over their joint love for equality, knowledge, and danger."

"They didn't fight for the Light?" Hadrian repeats looking up from his meal confused "Then why does everyone claim they were the Lights best soldiers?"

Hannibal smiles at the knowledge that Hadrian has been doing his own research. "Your parents were spies for the Dark. I know as your parents and your godfather Severus Snape all informed me. In the event that they were ever caught, I was expected to take you and flee. Unlike your godfather, Severus Snape, your parents were never caught. Currently, both the Light and the Dark fractions believe your godfather to be working for them."

"So he's barely surviving. At least that explains why he visits so rarely." Hadrian concludes before taking another bite of his seared french green beans frowning when he notices it was the last.

"Precisely." Hannibal agrees before eating the last of his own green beans. "That could have been their fate. Yet instead, Lillian and James are said to be some of the best warriors either side has had. As you know, your parents' deaths are still mourned across England. In fact, I believe there is a monument to them in Godric's Hollow." Hannibal says before taking another sip of his blood laced Pinot Noir wine before moving to finish off his potatoes. "It was built and paid for by the European goblin nation. The goblins as a race greatly admired your parents' financial prowess, hunting skills, and fighting style. I believe you are forming similar relations with them." Hannibal says before topping off his blood infused Pinot Noir. "Come, we will discuss this more in the kitchen while we clean up."


"Neither your Mother or your Aunt Petunia were fond of the others lifestyle and rarely spoke," Hannibal explains as they walk into the den once the dishes are done. They have been discussing what he knows of Lillian and James for the past half hour. He's found himself reminiscing of the past throughout his explanations. "When Albus Dumbledore left you on Petunias doorstep he had to have known at least that much. To make matters worse, Lillian and James explicitly stated you were to go to me first and foremost in their wills. Of those listed your late Aunt Petunia was only a last resort." Hannibal explains as he seats himself on one of the leather couches. "Of course, having been murdered a week prior she couldn't have taken you in any way."

"Who else was listed?" Hadrian asks taking a seat next to him.

"As guardians or in the will?" Hannibal asks for clarification. Normally he would correct Hadrian's use of such a vague statement but he knows how emotional discussing the deceased can be. As an orphan himself he is aware that discussing deceased parents is much worse.

"Both as potential guardians and of those in my parents' wills."

'Ah, that explains his seemingly improper use of grammar.' Hannibal thinks to himself before responding. “Well, the will reading began with your parents declaring your blood adoptive father Lord Sirius Black innocent, and Peter Pettigrew a traitor to his dear friends. Peter Pettigrew was bluntly stated to be the secret-keeper to their fidelius charm. The reading also explicitly stated that Albus Dumbledore was made aware of this fact as he cast the charm. Naturally, neither Peter Pettigrew or Albus Dumbledore were left a thing.”

Hadrian snorts “That didn't stop Dumbledore did it?”

“No, however, Lillian and Jameses words have caused the man trouble ever since,” Hannibal states with a smirk before looking to the clock. “It's nearing you're bedtime. I will answer your question then I want you to go prepare for bed.” 

“Okay.” Hadrian agrees with a well-hidden yawn.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two.  Fresh Meat 

 

Year: 1983, POV: Wilhelm ‘Will’ Graham, Location: FBI's Headquarters, Washington, D.C.

Nobody likes their secrets being exposed. Despite what they want you to believe everyone has something to hide. It's why everyone is born with the basic defenses against Legilimency, even muggles. Magical races like to believe they are far superior to muggles. As far as the natural food chain cares most magical races are at the top. It's why so few magical governments see muggles as anything more than prey. Even the so-called muggle-borns are born from two squib lines converging. They have very little true muggle blood in their veins if any. Be that as it may, even the magical races of the world can fall into the category of prey to certain magical predators. Wilhelm ‘Will’ Graham knows he can easily slide into that category. Will is what most muggles and magicals call an empath. He's also a royal vampire otherwise known as a living vampire, but that's not as terrifying or as near rare as an empath.  

Unlike legilimens who are born with or are the taught ability to read a person's mind, empaths can read a person's soul and their life experiences with barely any physical contact. By making eye or skin contact with an empath, you are displaying your very soul for them to do with as they chose. Magical empaths can go as far as to become that person. Unlike a Metamorph, they not only take on the subjects physical form but their very mind, spirit, blood, and magic. In essence, they become that person. As an empath Will is an outcast in both worlds. His kind are seen as far too dangerous to be around by magicals and as an oddity to most muggles who know nothing of magic. That hasn't stopped him from pursuing his dream job, however. If anything helping his fellow magicals get away with hunting muggles is simply easier when working with the muggles themselves. 

Muggles so rarely suspect one of their own pack mates to be aiding their killers. Such scrutiny is especially rare when said pack nearly always catches a killer fitting the description given. So, Will uses his magic given ability to delve into the mind of muggle hunters. Each time he absorbs an imprint of their personality and files it away for future use, he then chooses the closet muggle that fits. In return, he gains a rather large annual paycheck from the local magical government. Occasionally the muggle hunters will even leave a nice tip. With the regular payments from the FBI, his official muggle job, as one of their top profilers, he rarely has to delve into his savings. It would be the ideal job if those around him would stop looking at him like he's less than them. 

The worst, the absolute worst of them is Jack Crowford. The man is worse than anyone, muggle or magical, he's ever met. Since the beginning, Jack has looked at him and even treated him as though he is nothing more than his personal weapon . A weapon he maintains only to the point of usefulness . Whether he breaks down or dies on the job only concerns Jack as it would look bad for him. Even then Jack has used him against other killers at the expense of his own mind and sanity. Magical beings fear him, yes, but they also respect his magic and his ability. Back when he graduated Durmstrang in 1723 Will was an outcast in both worlds but his talent was revered and widely sought after. Still, his only motivation to keep on living was the knowledge he would revive his soulmate just to kill them if they took their joint life force.

Back then it was better to be an outcast in the muggle world than in the magical one. This was especially true in Europe where he lived. The magical war between Light and Dark was just beginning back then. As things got worse most of the magical population fled the European nations to safer waters. He came over by ship from his home country of Germany to Cuba. He later took a boat to South America before trekking his way on foot into North America. Before arriving in North America in the 70’s he had very little formal muggle education. His parents, Lord Alfred Graham-Graves and Lady Amelia Graham-Graves, are blood supremacists. They still fight on the side of the Dark even after his younger brother Percivial’s deflection and subsequent death. They saw no need to educate them on muggle life outside of what was necessary to blend in. 

Now, Will has a master's degree in criminal justice and a graduate degree in forensic psychology in both the magical and muggle worlds. Will is good at what he does. One of the best even. Catching muggle killers and framing them for the crimes of magicals imitating them is fun and highly profitable. Working for the FBI, the royal vampires, and the International Confederation of Magic is good for him. He likes to think he is content with his pack of dogs, simple home, minor magic use, and fishing. Then he will see the soulmark on his arm and the yearning will return. He hasn't begun nesting, not yet anyway. Still, it's only a matter of time until he does. He only wishes he will have met his destined match, Hannibal Lecter, by then.


Year: 1983, POV: Wilhelm ‘Will’ Graham, Location: FBI's Headquarters, Washington, D.C.

Will’s hands twitch against his thighs as he sits in the conference room and listens to Jack Crawford rant on about their newest case. He already knows who the killer is and all the details of the case. He's just surprised it's taken the muggles three years to catch on. He has already gained guardianship of the Hobbs family's daughter, Abigail, in the magical world. Four years ago Lord Garret Hobbs and Lady Louise Hobbs broke vampire code and killed a member of their own clan, the punishment for which is self-sacrificial death. The small family of three has simply been spending their last days together during Salem Witches Institute’s school holidays. The rest of the royal vampires, otherwise known as the living vampires, are of the opinion that they're simply drawing out the inevitable. Personally, he agrees, but so long as it's not his head on a plate he could care less. 

Right now he has a persistent little itch that needs to be taken care of before things get out of control. He hasn't had a decent meal in almost a week. He doesn't have any fresh meat left in the warded fridge and only a freezer-burned leg remains in the warded freezer. He's all out of blood infused wine and beer too. All he has left is half a gallon of blood infused grape juice that's quickly going sour. While he could go to the local magical grocer he simply hasn't had the chance in weeks. He’s starving and would be on the verge of bloodlust if it wasn't for the meal he was treated to three days ago by one of his clients.

“Will?” Jack asks sounding oddly disturbed. 

Will peels his eyes open and only just now notices he has everyone's attention. “Sorry, I lost focus there for a minute, Jack. I just realized it's been a while since I last ate.”

His muggle colleagues all look to him horrified at the thought of missing meals. Even Jack winces. “Ah, maybe you should- Actually, I think I have something here.” Jack pulls out an old sucker that he was likely saving for a kid they happened upon on a case. 

Will makes no move to take it. Instead, he casts his eyes down to the nice glass, surprisingly expensive, conference table. He squeezes his palms past the point of pain while willing his claws and fangs not to lengthen and drain the life of all the muggles in the room. He waits until he loses feeling in his hands then let's go, using one hand to push up his glasses and the other to click and twirl a pen. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just grab something on the way.” Will looks back up with a forced smile surprised to find Jack looking him in the eyes expectantly. Will is quick to look away. Eyes. They are always too much. Eyes express too much. They display too much of a person's soul. 

Will shouldered his bag and pushed past Jack as soon as it is socially acceptable to leave. Jack looks too stunned to reply, and Will leaves before the muggle can even try. Blood, he needs blood, and soon. Will’s hand twitch again. Reflexively at the thought of blood this far into bloodlust, his claws and fangs lengthen. Will instinctively shoves his hands in his pocket as he sweeps down the halls. Maybe he’ll pop into the local magical grocer and grab some stowaway food while he's at it. He can't let himself fall this far into bloodlust again. His vampire nature gives another hum at the promise of blood as he slowly made his way down the stairs. Never good to be trapped in a moving box with his preferred prey when he's like this. It would, however, be a good way to get rid of that pesky little itch.


Year: 1983, POV: Hadrian ‘Adrian’ Regulus Peverell-Potter, Location: Lecter Estate, Baltimore, Maryland

It's the Yule Holidays and Hadrian is enjoying the freedom of being home from his new boarding school. He and his Uncle Hannibal were pleasantly surprised to discover that the all-boys boarding school, Salem Wizard Institute, in America accepts students starting at the age of 5. The discovery helped them decide on North America as their new home rather than Japan for Mahoutokoro School of Magic. The family of two have already gone on three hunting trips in this week's blizzard. Now, freshly fallen snow covers the front courtyard of the newly remodeled Lecter estate. The front fountain, full of frozen ice and snow, is visible through the library's large bay windows. Hadrian sits on one such window seat surrounded by books and homework both magical and muggle in nature. He flips through his completed homework double-checking his work while making notes in the margins of his muggle notebook with a quill. Finally done with his research, he closes the book with a satisfied smile.

“I take it you've made your decision?” His Uncle Hannibal asks coming back in with a tray. Atop it is a plate of homemade chocolate chip biscuits and two large mugs overflowing with homemade whipped cream.

“Yes. I have discovered America will best suit our current needs.” Hadrian says watching as his Uncle sits down the drinks. “However it will be best if we eventually return to Europe, particularly England.”

“How so?” His Uncle Hannibal asks giving only a slight widening of his eyes and a barely suppressed smile turned frown as his tell.

Hadrian takes a sip of nuke warm Mexican hot chocolate topped with homemade whipped cream and organic cocoa sprinkles before responding. “He will begin looking for me otherwise.”