The parlor, which had already been filled with animated conversation, suddenly became a symphony of voices as the remaining guests arrived in what could only be described as a carefully orchestrated parade of Black family dynamics.
The first through the doors were the triplets—Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda Black—and even at their young ages, they commanded attention in ways that suggested they'd been born understanding their own magnetism. At eleven, Bellatrix was already stunning in the dangerous way that would make her legendary, with wild black curls that seemed to move with a life of their own and dark eyes that sparkled with barely contained energy. She moved like liquid lightning, all graceful motion and restless enthusiasm that made everyone around her seem slightly slower by comparison.
"HADRIAN!" Bellatrix's voice cut through the room with pure delight as she spotted her target, practically vibrating with excitement. "There's my favorite Nundu owner! I've been absolutely dying to see Aslan again!"
She bounded across the room with the kind of enthusiastic energy that made several adults step hastily out of her path, dropping to her knees beside Aslan with complete disregard for her expensive dress robes and the concerned looks from her parents.
"Hello, gorgeous," she cooed, running her hands through Aslan's silver fur with the kind of fearless affection that would have terrified most adults. "Have you missed me? It's been almost three whole days since I've seen you, which is practically a lifetime!"
*Your cousin,* Aslan observed with fond amusement, his mental voice carrying the rich baritone warmth that made even his sarcasm sound distinguished, *has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. It's actually quite refreshing in a world full of people who think I'm going to eat them at the first opportunity.*
*She's the only person I've ever met who thinks a baby Nundu is the perfect pet,* Hadrian replied, watching as Aslan leaned into Bellatrix's touch with obvious contentment, his golden eyes half-closed in pleasure.
"Bella," Narcissa said with the kind of long-suffering tone that suggested she'd been managing her sister's impulsive behavior for years, her platinum blonde hair catching the light as she shook her head in exasperation. At eleven, she already carried herself with the kind of regal dignity that made her look like she'd stepped off an ancient coin. "you're supposed to greet the hosts first, remember? Social protocols? The things Mother spent years drilling into our heads?"
"Protocols are for people who don't have proper priorities," Bellatrix replied cheerfully, not looking up from where she was scratching behind Aslan's ears in exactly the spot that made him purr with contentment. "Aslan is obviously more important than stuffy adult conversations about weather and politics."
*I like her reasoning,* Aslan said approvingly, his purr rumbling through his chest. *She understands that I am, in fact, the most important being in any room I enter.*
"Besides," Bellatrix continued with the kind of impish grin that suggested she was about to say something that would horrify her parents, "adults are boring. They just stand around talking about boring adult things like property values and marriage contracts. Aslan, on the other hand, is fascinating. Did you know he's grown two whole inches since I saw him last?"
"Has he really?" Andromeda asked with genuine interest, moving closer to examine Aslan with the kind of careful attention that spoke of someone who actually listened when adults talked about magical creature development. At eleven, she had inherited the family's dark hair and eyes but tempered them with something warmer, more approachable. Where Bellatrix radiated dangerous excitement and Narcissa projected cool superiority, Andromeda seemed to balance both extremes with genuine kindness.
"According to Newt, young Nundu go through several growth spurts in their first year," Hadrian replied, fighting back a smile at his familiar's obvious preening under all the attention. "Aslan will probably be the size of a large dog by Christmas."
"That's going to make Hogwarts interesting," James said with a grin that suggested he found the prospect more exciting than concerning, his hazel eyes sparkling with the kind of mischief that had characterized Potter men for generations. "Though I suppose by then everyone will be used to having a Nundu around. Can't be much stranger than some of the other things that happen at that school."
*Your cousin James,* Aslan observed with amusement, *has the right attitude about these things. Practical acceptance of unusual circumstances.*
Following the triplets came their parents, Cygnus and Druella Black, along with a girl who could only be Alice Fortescue. Hadrian recognized her immediately—the round face, kind brown eyes, and light brown hair that never quite stayed where it was supposed to. At eleven, she already had the nurturing presence that would make her such a beloved figure among her peers, though there was also a determined set to her jaw that suggested she was far from helpless.
"Alice!" Hadrian said with genuine warmth, his silver-grey eyes lighting up as he moved to greet his friend properly. "It's wonderful to see you."
"Hadrian," she replied with a bright smile that lit up her entire face, her voice carrying the kind of uncomplicated friendliness that made everyone around her feel instantly welcome. "Bella's been telling everyone about Aslan for weeks. I think half of magical London knows about your famous familiar by now."
*Famous?* Aslan preened slightly at the designation, his mental voice carrying obvious satisfaction. *I do like the sound of that. 'Famous' has such a lovely ring to it.*
"Famous might be overstating it," Hadrian said diplomatically, though his smile suggested he was equally amused by his familiar's vanity.
"Oh, I don't think so," Alice continued with obvious enthusiasm. "My uncle mentioned that people have been asking about you at the ice cream parlor. Apparently, word has gotten around that there's an eleven-year-old with a Nundu familiar, and people are quite curious."
*See?* Aslan said with obvious smugness. *Famous. I told you I was destined for greatness.*
But before Alice could elaborate on Aslan's apparent celebrity status, the parlor doors opened once more to admit what was clearly the most distinguished delegation of the evening. Arcturus Black entered with the kind of natural authority that made everyone in the room automatically straighten their posture—tall, distinguished, with the kind of presence that spoke of someone accustomed to command. His silver hair was perfectly styled, and his grey eyes missed nothing as they swept the room, cataloguing faces and dynamics with the efficiency of someone who'd spent decades managing complex family politics.
Behind him came his wife Melania, whose presence added an air of refined elegance that somehow made the entire gathering feel more sophisticated. She moved with the fluid grace of someone who'd been born to high society, her dark hair arranged in an elegant chignon that perfectly complemented her timeless beauty.
Following them came Harfang Longbottom with his wife Callidora, Ernest and Augusta Longbottom, and finally—making Hadrian's chest tighten with recognition—Frank Longbottom.
At eleven, Frank was already recognizable as the reliable, steady presence he would become, though he carried himself with more open enthusiasm than Hadrian remembered from stories of his later years. He had the kind of sturdy presence that suggested reliability and quiet strength, with light brown hair that fell in soft waves and hazel eyes that sparkled with intelligence and natural curiosity as he took in the elaborate parlor with obvious appreciation.
*That's him,* Hadrian realized with a complex mixture of emotions. *Frank Longbottom. Neville's father.*
*The boy who's destined to marry Alice?* Aslan asked, following Hadrian's gaze to where Frank was looking around the parlor with obvious interest, his attention particularly caught by the magical portraits that lined the walls.
*If things follow the same patterns as my previous life,* Hadrian confirmed quietly. *Though nothing seems to be following exactly the same patterns this time around.*
"Right then," James announced with characteristic enthusiasm, apparently deciding that the gathering had reached critical mass and required his organizational skills. His voice carried the kind of infectious energy that made everyone automatically pay attention, and his gestures were animated enough to suggest he was conducting an invisible orchestra. "proper introductions all around, and then we can sort out the evening's entertainment. Though I have to warn everyone, Sirius has been suspiciously well-behaved so far, which usually means he's planning something spectacular."
"I resent that implication," Sirius said with mock indignation, his grey eyes dancing with barely contained mischief as he ran a hand through his dark hair. "I am the very picture of propriety and good behavior."
"You've been proper for exactly forty-seven minutes," James replied with a grin, checking his pocket watch with theatrical precision. "That's got to be some kind of record."
"Forty-eight minutes, actually," Sirius corrected with wounded dignity. "I've been timing it. I'm quite proud of myself."
*Your cousins,* Aslan observed with amusement, *have a very interesting relationship with the concept of appropriate behavior.*
What followed was a carefully choreographed dance of social introductions that would have impressed a diplomatic corps. Charlus and Fleamont moved through the crowd with practiced ease—Charlus with his commanding presence that spoke of someone accustomed to managing complex social situations, and Fleamont with his more subtle charm that put everyone at ease—ensuring that everyone was properly introduced and that conversation flowed smoothly despite the complex web of family relationships and social expectations.
The younger generation, however, had their own approach to social organization that involved considerably more enthusiasm and significantly less adherence to formal protocols.
"Oh my goodness," Alice said, her voice carrying genuine amazement as she noticed Laika for the first time, her brown eyes widening with wonder. "Is that a kitsune? An actual kitsune? I've only seen drawings in books!"
The silver and white fox raised her head with regal dignity, fixing Alice with intelligent golden eyes that seemed to hold depths of ancient wisdom. Even at her small size, Laika radiated the kind of mystical presence that made everyone around her feel like they were in the presence of something far more significant than a simple magical creature.
"She's absolutely magnificent," Bellatrix breathed, abandoning her attention to Aslan in favor of approaching the kitsune with the kind of reverent caution she rarely displayed toward anything. Her dark eyes were wide with genuine awe as she moved slowly, clearly understanding that she was in the presence of something extraordinary. "I've never seen anything so beautiful. She looks like she's made of starlight and moonbeams."
*Your cousin has excellent taste in magical creatures,* Aslan observed approvingly, though his mental voice carried a note of amused resignation. *Though I do feel slightly abandoned in favor of the newcomer.*
"Don't be jealous," Hadrian murmured quietly, earning himself a look of wounded dignity from his familiar.
*I am not jealous,* Aslan replied with the kind of aristocratic disdain that would have made Narcissa proud. *I am simply noting that some beings have very short attention spans when it comes to appreciating true magnificence.*
"Laika is quite particular about who she allows to approach her," Natalia said with a slight smile, her emerald eyes bright with amusement as she watched her familiar regard Bellatrix with what might have been approval. Her auburn hair caught the light as she moved, and there was something in her posture that suggested she was cataloguing everyone's reactions with professional interest. "But she seems to like you."
"Animals always like me," Bellatrix replied with characteristic confidence, extending her hand for Laika to sniff with the kind of patience that suggested she actually understood magical creature protocols. "I think it's because I respect their intelligence instead of treating them like pets or accessories."
*Accurate assessment,* Aslan commented approvingly. *Bellatrix understands that we're partners, not possessions. It's a surprisingly mature perspective for someone so young.*
"That's exactly right," Frank said quietly, speaking up for the first time since the introductions had begun. His voice was warm and thoughtful, carrying the kind of natural wisdom that made people want to listen to what he had to say. "My mother always taught me that magical creatures choose their partnerships based on respect and understanding, not dominance or ownership."
"Your mother sounds very wise," Lily said with genuine warmth, her red curls bouncing slightly as she turned to give Frank her full attention. Her emerald eyes sparkled with interest, and her smile was the kind that made everyone around her feel valued and heard.
"She is," Frank replied, his cheeks coloring slightly at the attention but his smile growing more confident. "She's actually quite famous in certain circles for her work with magical plants and creature habitats."
"Oh, are you talking about Augusta Longbottom?" Severus asked, his dark eyes lighting up with genuine interest as he looked up from where he'd been quietly observing the interactions. His voice carried the kind of excitement that came from recognizing a name he'd read in academic journals. "She's published some fascinating papers on the symbiotic relationships between magical plants and their creature partners."
"That's her," Frank confirmed with obvious pride, his posture straightening as he talked about his mother's work. "She says that understanding those relationships is key to understanding how magic works in the natural world."
*Interesting,* Aslan observed. *The boy has academic interests beyond what you'd expect from his background. He's not just the steady, reliable type—he's genuinely intelligent.*
As the younger generation sorted themselves into comfortable conversation groups, the adults arranged themselves with the kind of careful social positioning that allowed for multiple simultaneous discussions while maintaining overall group cohesion.
Hadrian found himself watching the dynamics with fascination, noting how different this gathering was from what he'd expected based on his memories of Black family politics. Arcturus Black commanded obvious respect from everyone present, including Walburga, whose earlier sharp edges had been considerably blunted by her father-in-law's presence.
*Interesting,* he observed to himself. *Arcturus seems to be the stabilizing influence that keeps the family's more extreme elements in check.*
"—absolutely fascinating work on creature communication," Newt was saying to Natalia, his scientific curiosity clearly piqued by Laika's unusual intelligence. His hair was even more disheveled than usual from his animated gesturing, and his eyes held the kind of passionate intensity that came from encountering something that challenged everything he thought he knew. "I've never observed such sophisticated non-verbal communication between a kitsune and their human partner. The level of understanding you two share suggests a bonding depth that typically takes years to develop."
"Laika chose me," Natalia replied simply, though her voice carried undertones that suggested the story was far more complex than her words indicated. Her emerald eyes held depths that seemed far too old for her eleven-year-old face as she spoke, and there was something in her tone that suggested she was being deliberately careful about what she revealed. "Sometimes these connections transcend normal timelines."
*Listen to her,* Aslan said quietly in Hadrian's mind, his mental voice carrying the kind of thoughtful analysis that reminded Hadrian of his familiar's ancient wisdom. *She's being deliberately vague, but she's also giving you clues. That's not the way someone talks about meeting their familiar for the first time.*
"What do you mean by transcending timelines?" Alice asked with genuine curiosity, her brown eyes bright with interest as she leaned forward slightly. "Is that a technical term, or are you speaking more philosophically?"
"Philosophically, I think," Natalia replied with a slight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sometimes I feel like Laika and I have known each other much longer than we actually have."
*Very carefully phrased,* Aslan noted approvingly. *She's testing the waters without revealing too much.*
Before Hadrian could analyze Natalia's words further, the conversation was interrupted by what could only be described as a diplomatic crisis in miniature.
"—quite remarkable how well-behaved magical children can be when they're properly guided," Walburga Black was saying to Melanie Evans, her voice carrying the kind of pointed emphasis that suggested she was making a comparison that wasn't entirely complimentary. Her posture was rigidly proper, but there was something in her expression that suggested she was building toward a point that wouldn't be well-received.
"I'm sorry?" Melanie replied, her voice carefully controlled despite the obvious confusion in her expression. Her dark eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to parse the subtext of Walburga's comment, and her posture shifted almost imperceptibly into something more defensive.
*Oh no,* Aslan said with the kind of resigned amusement that suggested he'd been expecting this moment. *Here we go. Sirius' mother is about to put her foot in it spectacularly.*
"I simply meant," Walburga continued with the kind of smile that could cut glass, apparently oblivious to the warning looks she was receiving from several family members, "that it's refreshing to see magical children who understand the importance of proper breeding and bloodline purity in maintaining the strength of our community."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as every conversation stopped and all attention focused on what was rapidly becoming a very uncomfortable social situation. Even the magical portraits seemed to sense the tension, their painted occupants leaning forward with interest.
Alex Evans's expression shifted from confusion to something approaching controlled anger as the implications of Walburga's comment became clear, his scholarly demeanor giving way to the kind of protective fury that came from recognizing an attack on his family. Melanie's face flushed with the kind of indignation that suggested she was preparing to deliver a response that would end the evening rather abruptly.
"Excuse me?" Alex said, his voice carrying the kind of dangerous quiet that professors used when they were about to intellectually eviscerate someone who'd made a particularly stupid argument. "Are you suggesting that my daughters are somehow inferior because their mother and I are not magical?"
*This is about to get very ugly very quickly,* Aslan observed with the kind of fascinated horror that came from watching a natural disaster unfold in real time.
But before either parent could escalate the situation further, Arcturus Black's voice cut through the tension with the kind of quiet authority that brooked no argument.
"Walburga," he said, his tone carrying just enough ice to make his daughter-in-law flinch visibly, while his silver eyes held the kind of warning that suggested immediate correction was required. "I believe you misspoke. What you meant to say was that it's wonderful to see how well magical and Muggle families can work together to support their children's education and development."
The authority in his voice was absolute, and the way every Black family member in the room immediately straightened suggested that when Arcturus Black spoke, everyone listened.
"I—yes, of course," Walburga replied quickly, though her expression suggested she was thoroughly displeased with the correction and was filing away this public embarrassment for later brooding. "The cooperation between magical and non-magical families is... admirable."
*Your godfather,* Aslan observed with approval, *has excellent diplomatic instincts. Crisis averted, though I suspect there will be consequences later.*
"Absolutely," Orion Black added smoothly, shooting his wife a look that could have frozen the Thames while his voice carried the kind of diplomatic warmth that suggested he was genuinely trying to repair the damage. "The Evans family has shown remarkable adaptability and support for their daughters' magical education. It's exactly the kind of family cooperation that strengthens our entire community."
Dorea Potter stepped forward with the kind of gracious authority that came from years of managing complex social situations, her warm smile directed specifically at Alex and Melanie Evans.
"Alex, Melanie," she said, her voice carrying genuine warmth and what might have been an apology for her family connections, "I hope you'll forgive us. Large family gatherings sometimes bring out... strong opinions that are better kept private."
"Of course," Melanie replied, though her voice still carried edges of controlled anger. "Though I do hope those opinions don't reflect the general attitude of the magical community toward families like ours."
"They absolutely do not," Euphemia Potter said firmly, her voice carrying the kind of maternal authority that brooked no argument. "The magical community is varied and complex, and unfortunately, like any community, it includes people with outdated and frankly offensive perspectives."
*Notice,* Aslan observed approvingly, *how the Potter women are handling this. They're not making excuses for Walburga's behavior, but they're also working to reassure the Evans parents that not everyone shares those views.*
The tension in the room began to dissipate as normal conversations gradually resumed, though Hadrian noticed that Alex and Melanie Evans were now watching the Black family with considerably more wariness than they'd shown earlier.
"Well," James said with the kind of forced cheerfulness that suggested he was trying to restore the evening's positive atmosphere through sheer force of personality, "that was... educational. Should we perhaps focus on more pleasant topics? Like how brilliant everyone's familiars are?"
*Your cousin,* Aslan noted with amusement, *has decent instincts for crisis management. Redirect attention to something everyone can agree on.*
"Excellent idea," Fleamont said smoothly, his diplomat's training showing as he moved to support James's attempt at redirection. "I have to say, this gathering has provided some fascinating examples of unusual bonding patterns."
"Speaking of which," Sirius said with renewed enthusiasm, apparently deciding that the crisis had passed and normal entertainment could resume, "has anyone mentioned that Regulus got a familiar last week?"
All attention turned to Regulus, who had been doing his best to blend into the background during the diplomatic incident. At nine, he already showed signs of the careful control and quiet intelligence that would characterize his later years, though there was still something genuinely childlike in the way he brightened under positive attention.
"It's not that exciting," Regulus said with careful modesty, though his grey eyes sparkled with barely contained pride. "Just a raven."
"Just a raven?" Bellatrix exclaimed with the kind of dramatic indignation that suggested her brother was vastly underestimating his achievement. "Reggie, show them Corvus! He's absolutely magnificent!"
Regulus whistled softly, and a sleek black raven appeared at the window as if summoned by magic—which, Hadrian realized, he probably had been. The bird tapped politely on the glass with his beak, waiting for permission to enter.
"May I?" Regulus asked politely, and at Charlus's nod, he opened the window to allow his familiar inside.
Corvus was indeed magnificent—larger than a normal raven, with feathers that seemed to absorb light and intelligent dark eyes that suggested depths of wisdom. He perched on Regulus's shoulder with the kind of dignity that made him look like a herald from some ancient court.
"Ravens choose partners based on intelligence and loyalty," Newt said with obvious fascination, his scientific curiosity immediately engaged. "They're notoriously selective, and they bond for life. It's quite an honor, Regulus."
*Interesting choice,* Aslan observed thoughtfully. *Ravens are associated with wisdom, memory, and prophecy. Either the boy has hidden depths, or his familiar sees potential that others have missed.*
"He's beautiful," Lily said with genuine admiration, her voice carrying the kind of warmth that made everyone around her feel valued. "How did you meet?"
"He just... appeared," Regulus said with a slight smile, his hand moving to gently stroke Corvus's sleek feathers. "I was reading in the garden one afternoon, and he landed on my book. He's been with me ever since."
"What were you reading?" Severus asked with obvious curiosity, his dark eyes bright with the kind of intellectual interest that characterized all his interactions.
"A History of Ancient Runes," Regulus replied, and Hadrian could see several adults exchange impressed looks at the advanced nature of the text.
"That's quite sophisticated reading for someone your age," Alex Evans said with obvious approval, his earlier tension giving way to genuine interest in meeting another young person with academic inclinations.
"I like learning about things," Regulus said with simple honesty, his cheeks coloring slightly at the positive attention. "And Corvus seems to enjoy listening when I read aloud."
*The boy has potential,* Aslan observed approvingly. *Academic curiosity combined with natural humility. Those are valuable qualities.*
Taking advantage of the distraction caused by Regulus's familiar introduction, Hadrian found himself with an opportunity he'd been hoping for all evening. Natalia had moved slightly apart from the main group, ostensibly to allow Laika more space, but positioned in a way that suggested she was making herself available for private conversation.
*This is your chance,* Aslan said quietly, his mental voice carrying encouragement rather than his usual sarcasm. *If you're going to approach the topic of shared reincarnation experiences, now would be the time.*
Hadrian moved casually toward where Natalia stood, his heart racing with nervous anticipation. This conversation could either establish a crucial alliance or make him look completely insane—possibly both.
"The evening has been quite eventful so far," he said quietly, positioning himself so that their conversation would be relatively private despite the crowded room.
"That's one way to put it," Natalia replied, her emerald eyes taking in the room with the kind of systematic assessment that reminded him powerfully of the spy he'd known her to be in another life. "Though I suspect the most interesting conversations haven't happened yet."
Her voice carried undertones that suggested she was having an entirely different conversation than the one their words were having, and there was something in her posture that suggested she was prepared for whatever direction their discussion might take.
*She's giving you an opening,* Aslan observed. *She wants to talk.*
Hadrian took a deep breath, knowing that his next words would either open a door or close one permanently.
"Tell me, Natasha," he said quietly, using her previous life's name with careful deliberation while keeping his voice low enough that their conversation remained private, "how are you adjusting to having a family again?"
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Natalia's entire body went rigid, her emerald eyes snapping to his face with laser focus as her hand instinctively moved toward where a weapon would have been concealed in her previous life. For just a moment, the eleven-year-old girl disappeared entirely, replaced by someone far older and more dangerous.
"How do you know that name?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying the kind of controlled danger that suggested she was prepared for immediate action if necessary.
"The same way you probably know that seeing familiar faces in unfamiliar contexts can be quite disorienting," Hadrian replied carefully, keeping his voice low and his posture deliberately non-threatening. "Especially when those faces belong to people who were important to you in another life."
For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence, each assessing the other with the kind of careful evaluation that spoke of people accustomed to determining threats and opportunities in rapid succession. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension and recognition.
"You remember too," Natalia—Natasha—said finally, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and wariness as the dangerous stillness gradually left her posture. "You're reincarnated."
"I am," Hadrian confirmed, feeling a tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying begin to dissolve. "And based on your reaction, I'm guessing you retained your memories from your previous life as well."
"Most of them," she replied cautiously, her eyes never leaving his face as she continued to assess him with professional thoroughness. "Though some details are... fuzzy. The emotional memories are clearer than the tactical ones."
*She's being careful,* Aslan observed approvingly. *Testing how much you know without revealing more than necessary. Professional habits die hard, even in eleven-year-old bodies.*
"Did I know you?" Natasha asked, her voice carrying genuine curiosity mixed with something that might have been hope. "In my previous life, I worked with a team—the Avengers. Were you one of them?"
"The Avengers?" Hadrian repeated, the name meaning nothing to him despite his extensive magical education. "I'm sorry, I don't know what that is. In my previous life, I was Harry James Potter, born July 31st, 1980, to James Potter and Lily Evans Potter."
He gestured subtly toward where James was engaged in animated conversation with Sirius, his hazel eyes bright with laughter as he gesticulated enthusiastically about something that was clearly hilarious to both cousins, then toward where Lily was listening to Alice describe her family's ice cream business with genuine interest and warmth.
"That James Potter, and that Lily Evans," he continued quietly, his voice thick with emotion he was trying to keep under control. "They were my parents. I died in 1998, during what we called the Second Wizarding War, and Mother Magic offered me a second chance at life—with the memories of my previous existence intact."
Natasha's eyes widened slightly as she processed this information, her gaze moving between James and Lily with new understanding. For the first time since he'd used her real name, her professional composure cracked slightly, revealing something vulnerable underneath.
"Your parents," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of wonder and something that might have been envy. "It must be weird to see them so young."
"It's... complex," Hadrian admitted, his silver-grey eyes reflecting depths of pain and hope in equal measure. "Seeing them as children, knowing what their future held in my previous timeline, wanting to protect them but not knowing how much I should interfere with natural development... Some days I feel like I'm living in a dream that could turn into a nightmare at any moment."
"I can imagine," Natasha replied, her professional composure softening slightly as she recognized the emotional complexity of his situation. "In my previous life, I didn't have much family. Having Lily—having a sister who loves me unconditionally—it's something I never experienced before."
Her voice carried a note of wonder that suggested she was still amazed by the concept of unconditional familial love.
*She's opening up,* Aslan observed approvingly. *This is good. Building trust.*
"Mother Magic told me you'd been given a second chance as well," Hadrian continued carefully, his voice carrying genuine curiosity rather than suspicion, "but she didn't explain the details of your previous life. I know very little about who you were before, except that your name was Natasha Romanoff and that you were apparently quite formidable."
"I was a spy," Natasha said simply, her voice carrying the matter-of-fact tone of someone stating an obvious truth. "Trained from childhood, spent most of my adult life working for various organizations, eventually landed with a team of... enhanced individuals who fought to protect the world from various threats."
She paused, studying his face with renewed interest, her emerald eyes holding depths that seemed to catalogue and analyze every micro-expression.
"Your previous life—Harry Potter—were you some kind of hero as well? Mother Magic doesn't typically offer second chances to ordinary people."
"I wouldn't call myself a hero," Hadrian replied with a slight, bitter smile that made him look far older than his eleven years. "More like someone who was in the right place at the right time with the right combination of luck, stubbornness, and people willing to sacrifice themselves to keep me alive long enough to finish what needed to be done."
*That's an oversimplification,* Aslan commented dryly, *but probably accurate enough for current purposes. No need to get into the more complex details of your previous life's mythology.*
"The war you mentioned," Natasha pressed gently, her voice carrying the kind of professional interest that suggested she understood warfare from multiple perspectives, "what kind of war requires the sacrifice of children?"
"The kind where a megalomaniac decides that anyone without pure magical blood doesn't deserve to live," Hadrian replied, his voice carrying echoes of old pain and anger that made his silver eyes seem to glow with inner fire. "Tom Riddle—he called himself Voldemort—wanted to create a world where only pure-blood wizards had rights, and everyone else was either enslaved or eliminated."
Natasha's expression hardened with recognition and understanding, her professional composure slipping back into place as she processed information that clearly resonated with her own experiences.
"I've known men like that," she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of hard-won experience. "They always think they're saving the world by destroying everyone who doesn't fit their vision of perfection."
"The worst part," Hadrian continued, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke about memories that still caused him pain, "was that I was prophesied to be the one to stop him. From the time I was fifteen months old, my entire life was shaped by the expectation that I would either save the wizarding world or die trying."
*You're sharing quite a lot,* Aslan observed, though his mental voice carried approval rather than concern. *But she's earned it. And you both need to understand each other's backgrounds if you're going to work together.*
"That's... a tremendous burden for a child," Natasha said, her voice carrying genuine sympathy mixed with professional understanding. "In my experience, prophecies and destiny tend to rob people of choice. You don't get to decide who you want to be—everyone else has already decided for you."
"Exactly," Hadrian replied, feeling a rush of gratitude for her immediate understanding. "I spent my entire first life being 'The Boy Who Lived,' then 'The Chosen One,' then 'The Man Who Conquered.' I never got to just be Harry."
"And now you get to be Hadrian," Natasha observed with something that might have been a smile, her voice carrying genuine warmth for the first time in their conversation. "A fresh start, with the wisdom of your previous experiences but the freedom to make different choices."
"That's the hope," Hadrian agreed, his expression brightening slightly at her understanding. "Though I'm finding that having foreknowledge creates its own set of challenges. I know what went wrong before, but I'm not sure how much I should try to change, or whether my changes might make things worse instead of better."
Natasha nodded thoughtfully, her emerald eyes reflecting the complexity of similar concerns.
"In my previous life, I learned that trying to control outcomes usually leads to unintended consequences," she said quietly, her voice carrying the wisdom of someone who'd learned difficult lessons through experience. "Sometimes the best you can do is position yourself to respond effectively to whatever develops, rather than trying to orchestrate specific results."
*Wise advice,* Aslan commented approvingly. *She understands the dangers of over-managing complex situations. This alliance could be very beneficial.*
Before their conversation could continue, James's voice cut through the ambient chatter with characteristic enthusiasm, his natural ability to command attention making everyone automatically turn toward him.
"Right then, everyone!" he announced to the room at large, his infectious energy immediately capturing attention. "I believe dinner is ready, and Blinky has outdone herself tonight. Plus, I'm told there are some rather spectacular desserts that arrived this afternoon from Fortescue's."
"Oh, wonderful," Alice said with obvious delight. "I do love our family's ice cream, but I rarely get to see how other people react to trying it for the first time."
As the group began moving toward the dining room with the kind of organized chaos that characterized large family gatherings, Natasha caught Hadrian's arm gently.
"This conversation isn't finished," she said quietly, her voice carrying promise rather than threat. "There's much more we need to discuss."
"Agreed," Hadrian replied, feeling lighter than he had since arriving in this new timeline. "It's... it's good to know I'm not alone in this."
"You're not alone," Natasha confirmed, her smile carrying genuine warmth for the first time all evening. "Whatever challenges this second life brings, we'll face them together."
*Well,* Aslan observed with satisfaction as they followed the group toward dinner, *that went considerably better than your catastrophic planning suggested it would.*
*Sometimes,* Hadrian replied with growing optimism, *the best approach really is just honest communication.*
*Revolutionary concept,* Aslan replied dryly. *Perhaps you should try it more often.*
As they entered the dining room, where an elaborate feast had been laid out with the kind of magical efficiency that made everything seem to appear at exactly the right temperature and perfect presentation, Hadrian found himself looking forward to the rest of the evening with genuine anticipation rather than nervous dread.
He'd found an ally in Natasha, established positive connections with people who'd been important in his previous life, and managed to navigate the complex social dynamics without any major diplomatic incidents—well, except for Walburga's near-disaster, but that had been handled with admirable efficiency by Arcturus.
*The evening is far from over,* Aslan reminded him as they took their seats at the massive dining table that had been expanded to accommodate the crowd. *But you've made an excellent start.*
Looking around the table at the faces of people who would undoubtedly become central figures in his new life—James's infectious enthusiasm, Lily's warm intelligence, Natasha's careful assessment, Severus's quiet intensity, Sirius's barely contained energy, and all the others—Hadrian felt something he hadn't experienced since Mother Magic had offered him this second chance: genuine hope that this time, he might actually get things right.
The question was what "right" would look like when they were all finished creating it together.
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