"Lord Bermuda!"

Jager couldn't help but watch with wide eyes as His Beloved Lord fell towards the Earth before the Vindice's golden eyes glared upon the teenager responsible, "How could you?!"

The brunette doesn't say a word but suddenly he's no longer near Bermuda but rather in front of the downed Vindice granting the undead warrior a rather unnervingly blank expression- once emotional eyes that held the child's heart turned as icy as a glacier and empty as the void- with hostile Sky Flames building within his palms.

He should protect the watch, Jager knows that- it was Bermuda's only chance at finally achieving their Goal- but at the same time he knows Vongola's Future Decimo isn't aiming at the watch but rather towards Jager, himself.

He never should have held back but it was too late to correct such an error, Jager decides even as that palm is pointed directly towards his face- filled with Sky Flames that all but scream the younger's desire to rid this world of him- and without so much as a moments hesitation, Tsunayoshi releases them.

"Jager!"

He recognizes His Lord's scream anywhere- just barely managing to catch a glimpse of the other only to see His Lord is no longer falling towards the Earth like an angel stripped of its wings but rather rushing towards him and Vongola. Ah, so Bermuda had been pretending after all- in what Jager knew would be a vain attempt at reaching the immobilized Vindice first.

Vongola's Flames consume him in a matter of seconds and for the first time in centuries Jager is thankful for his inability to feel as his hand is disintegrated- to the point there wasn't even dust left for the wind to carry off- before his eyes. And to think, he had been worried Tsunayoshi wouldn't fit in a dark world like there and that he could just scare the other off with a glimpse of what the Mafia was truly like.

Jager just has enough time for a soft bitter chuckle- and an apologetic look to where he knows his Lord is- before the inferno of Sky Flames completely consumes the man once known as 'The Strongest Vindice Warrior'.

When the smoke finally cleared there was nothing but a stone pacifier lying innocently upon the Earth. For a moment there's a too still silence before an enraged scream- from a man now past the point of Vindicated- pierces the air.

When one thought of the aftermath of their own death, they probably thought of Pearly White Gates- where you could hear trumpets blaring and angels singing on the other side- or Eternal Fire and Brimstone -where the harsh crackling caused your ears to bleed and Lucifer was always looming over your shoulder- was awaiting them.

Unfortunately, Death didn't appear to agree.

He was Dead, of that Jager held no doubts- he didn't bother deny the facts instead facing the truth with a resigned air about him. It wasn't the first time he had died so he saw no reason to delude himself and he had walked into the Night Flames with intentions of dying to fulfill His Lord's Revenge- yet there was no Heaven or Hell waiting for the golden eyed Vindice the moment he opened his eyes. To be honest, there was Nothing.

Just a dark abyss- that for a moment made him wonder had he gone blind before he caught sight of one of his assorted bandages- in which he slowly floated his way through -for only God knows how long- as his body was too heavy to so much as twitch a finger.

To be honest, Jager thinks he would have preferred Hell to this Damnation. At least in Hell- as there was no possible way a man with track record would get into Heaven- he could have done something. With a soft mental sigh, Jager allowed his eyes to close in a vain hope of slumber.

It must have been what the abyss was waiting for as the moment golden eyes slip close the abyss shifts and a distant voice- as though he was hundred of leagues beneath the oceans surface- pierces the darkness.

"James...time-"

Time?

There were somethings a man should never have to go through- Such as dealing with a hyperactive Bermuda running solely on sugar and caffeine, having to explain the universal concept of sex to Small Gia and braving Jack's reality wrapping abilities when it came to basic necessaries such as cooking and paperwork- and childbirth should be at the top of that list.

Especially when you're the child.

He should have stayed dead, Jager decides- vainly attempting to erase the last hour and a half from his memories- even as he's wrapped within a soft cloth by a white blur- he assumes to be a midwife- before being passed over to the fuzzy blur in the bed with what he believes to be crimson hair.

"He's beautiful," a woman's soft voice reaches his ear- he recognizes it easily as the same vice that pierced the abyss- as the blur tightens its hold open him, all but snuggling the child into her chest.

"Do you have a name for him?"

The blur he believes to be a midwife questions only moments before a man's voice- full of fondness and another emotion Jager barely recognizes as love- speaks.

"Harry-"

Oh hell no.

He screams as he cannot speak to voice his protest.

Honestly, Jager is aware it childish and he's not only a grown man but a Vindice at that- Bermuda's Right Hand and Eternal Shadow- and he should be shamed by his actions but he already had a name- a nice proper name His Lord had granted him so long ago- and There was no way in hell they were going to replace it with 'Harry' of all things.

The woman's- his mother?- gives a soft chuckle, "How about Hadrian, James? That way we can call him 'Harry' for short. Hadrian James Potter."

Hadrian: a Latin name diverging from the word Hadrianus meaning- ironically enough- "Dark". It could be worse, Jager decides as he stops screaming- his throat already hoarse and throbbing in pain- and could all but feel the redhead woman's smile drifting upon him.

Chapter 1

If there was anything Jager learned from his time as both an Arcobaleno and then a Vindice it was that: Happiness is short lived.

His parents- it was strange calling anyone by such a title even if it was only in his head- names were James and Lilly Potter. In terms of looks, Lilly was the sun- with silky hair like fire and eyes of emerald -while James was the moon- messy ebony black hair, wore circular classes and hazel eyes. In terms of personality though...

They were both Mad as Hatters.

They dressed in colorful bathrobes and waved around sticks that seemed to channel the bare minimum their latent Flames which they dubbed 'Magic'. Honestly, Jager- for he would never be Harry nor Hadrian within his own mind- feels embarrassed just being near them as no one- not even Jack- was that uneducated concerning Flames. What did they do, just touch the tip of the iceberg and never bothered- never wondered enough- to dive beneath the waves to see what was awaiting beneath the murky waters?

And to think, there was a whole hidden society of the same mindset out there.

"Harry, Padfoot is here to save you from the mushy taint of Prongs and his Lillyflower~!"

A man with wavy hair- much like his own used to be- rushed into the room pronouncing his words as though he was some sort of cartoon superhero.

And then there was that nut job...

Padfoot, better known as Sirius Black and unfortunately for Jager: His Godfather who obviously doesn't have a clue when it comes to newborn children or Jager would like to think the silver eyed man wouldn't be swinging him around like a rag doll.

"Sirius, if you keep swinging him like that, Harry will-"

His Sun- in more then one way- of a mother attempted to warn the latent lightning only to be cut off by the sound of retching coming from her offspring as Jager threw up on his un-expecting Godfather. For a moment silence consumed the room before:

"Oh Merlin, its in my mouth!"

There was something strange about seeing your own face for the first time.

In his mind, Jager knew what he looked like- before and after the Arcobaleno Curse- even if he didn't like mirrors that much as a Vindice. He had enough reminders of how he had failed to protect His Generation without having to see his own mangled reflection.

So it was disturbingly strange to finally look into a mirror once more- only because his Father had all but shoved one under his nose- and see a complete- yet familiar- stranger.

He was a good combination of his parents: Having his Father's coloring and messy hair yet his mother's bone structure and unnatural eyes. If he wore glasses many would likely claim he looked identical to his father but with his mother's eyes, yet Jager didn't see either of them when he looked into the mirror.

Instead he saw Bermuda.

Dark ebony hair, pale skin and a baby-faced... If only his eyes were soulless black Jager would have been certain they had placed the Night Arcobaleno before him instead of a mirror.

Without a second thought chubby hands reach out- grabbing the mirror by its smooth sides- before Jager clutches it tightly to his chest while resting his head against it. Its not His Lord but its probably the closest Jager will ever get.

A week later, Jager is proven wrong as his babysitter for the day; a Pandora Lovegood, presents him with a handmade doll- wearing a cloak with a fur collar, a black top hat with bandages wrapped around its middle, bandages covering its face and hand, and a Clear Pacifier- with a knowing smile.

It officially becomes Jager's favorite possession- James had broken down into tear the moment he realized his manly son had abandoned the stuffed Stag for a Doll- as the Strange Latent Rain and her Mist of a Daughter fount their way towards the top of his rather short list of 'tolerable people I wouldn't mind being around'.

"Come on Harry: Say Mama. Ma-ma."

"No, Harry. Don't listen to her, listen to Daddy: Say Daddy or Dada even. Da-da."

A soft snort left the silver eyed man from where he stood behind the arguing couple before he pushed his way forwards, "Like that'll ever happen Prongs. Obviously Harry's first words will be 'Padfoot'."

"Like hell they will!" The latent Storm and Sun spat as they spun their friend with fire of determination in their eyes, "Harry's a good boy, he knows the only way to go is to say Mama/Daddy!"

Swiftly their hands snapped away from Black- who held up his hands in mock surrender. It was probably one of the smartest gestures Jager had even witnessed from the playful man- and onto their spouse.

"Mama!"

"Daddy!"

"Mama!"

"Daddy!"

"Mama!" with a fierce snarl the rouge haired woman had drawn her stick and was pointing it towards James in a threatening manor that sailed over the other's hand as he drew his own, "Dad-"

"Bemewda!" Jager didn't bother stopping the gleeful name from leaving his lips- enjoying the looks of horror in his parents eyes- as small chubby hands grabbed at the air when his raggedly dressed Uncle Remus entered the room with the now cleaned doll. Wrapping his arms- as best as he could- around the doll, Jager completely missed the look his parents shared but Sirius did not.

"Run!"

Boom!

Jager could only blink at the whole in the floor where his Uncle Remus had been standing moments before. Just barely missing the mousy man that had Jager's instincts flaring with caution and distrust.

"Remus, you bastard! How dare you steal my baby's first word!"

So not only were his parents Mad as Hatters but homicidal as well...They would have fit right into Vendicare should they ever become Undead Arcobaleno.

When all is said an done Jager blames the Sky for the End of Happiness.

The colorblind Sky had just stormed into their home without so much as knocking one day- speaking to his parents in hush whimpers about a Dark Lord, Protection and some type of Order- and the next thing Jager knew there were clear signs of stress and worry marring his parents as they were suddenly moving from the safety of their Manor and into a cottage at a place called 'Godric's Hollow'.

The environment- once friendly, open and trusting- turns secretive and closed as whispers of caution an paranoia reaches even his ears. They believe Remus is a traitor. In their self explained logic, the well-meaning man is a werewolf and therefore a 'Dark Creature' and since everyone knows 'Dark Creatures' serve the 'Dark Lord' Remus himself therefore must be. Eventually they began to isolate the man as they stop inviting him over and only talk to him enough to 'not draw suspicion'.

In Jager's option; they're idiots and Black is a Hypocrite. Remus had once read him a book explain the different families and their standing and from what Jager could recall the House of Black was full of 'Dark Wizards'.

Then the colorblind Sky returns and things become worse as he uses his Sky Charm to convince them they needed something called a 'Secret Keeper'. At first they chose His Godfather- and despite the man's hypercritical standing with Remus- Jager knows the man is loyal to his parents but then they decided to change it to Peter instead.

It may be a sign of trust in their part but Jager's instincts loathes the idea of them leaving the responsibly with this cowardly creature. He knows this one's type- having meet plenty of them in the Mafia- and believes without a doubt this man will betray his parents if he had not done so already.

After all, didn't they say something about a spy in their Order once?

In the end though, there's nothing Jager could do to stop his parents from heading outside with the mousy man and the colorblind Sky.

A week later, on Halloween Night, Jager's fears are confirmed as their front door is blown clear off its hinges by an unnatural emerald light that all but scream Death at him.

His father falls first, the foolish man having attempted to stall for time for his mother and his escape while unarmed.

His Mother falls before his crib -pleading for his life and refusing to move from her spot between them- before Jager finds the stick turned towards him. The 'Dark Lord' mumbles something about a 'prophecy' and 'chosen one' before that emerald light reeking fills Jager's vision.

Its probably the most suicidal move Jager has ever seen anyone commit.

After all, this 'Dark Lord' was nothing more than a Broken Sky barely grazing the tip of his Flames while Jager himself had been an Arcobaleno and a Vindice with centuries of experience under his belt.

Its child's play to manipulate the residue of his Mother's Sun Flames and His Father's Storm into creating a vigorous shield around himself to reflect the weaker Flames back towards the caster.

When he finally drifts into slumber- clutching his Bermuda Doll to its chest as to shelter it from the fire- it was to a man's voice screaming out his Mother's name. When he wakes Jager expected to see his Godfather but instead he's woken by a woman's shrill scream.

It takes him a moment to realize he was on a doorstep next to the morning milk and Sirius was no where to be fount.

He blames the colorblind Sky who's Flames cling to his blanket and the letter next to him.

Chapter 2

He had once been born into a servitude class-damned a slave since birth- though Bermuda tried not even his Lord and Master could fully shelter Jager from the world's cruelty.

Petunia Dursley's -it turns out much to Jager's surprise- is his Mother's sister and as civilian as anyone could be. Despite his best efforts Jager couldn't so much as find a spark within this spiteful woman- who held a century long grudge against his Mother.

And now that she was dead, it seemed to have latched onto him. As no sane woman- especially a mother who dotted upon her own child as though they hung the stars in the night sky- would call an eighteen month old a 'Freak' or shoved them underneath a sink in hopes they would 'become thirsty enough to drink the bleach'.

When the woman finally decided to check up on him- a week after shoving him into the darkness beneath the sink- Jager fount himself all but deafened as the woman give another of her shrill screams upon finding a perfectly healthy infant glaring up at her with accusing- unnatural- emerald eyes while cuddling it's creepy doll.

He's bodily thrown into the cupboard beneath the stairs without a moments hesitation.

In the years to come, the cupboard becomes his home- The murky darkness remaining him of the majestic halls of Vendicare- as he's granted only the bare minimum and expected to work himself to death for it.

Its pitiful, Jager decides as the four year old scrubs at the wooden floor with a rag- with more holes then fabric- that would be better off as kindle for a fire, how that his so called 'Family' felt superior when they were abusing what they believed to be a toddler.

It makes a part of him itch for the chains- he knows will not be there- that had all but become a second limb to drag their sorry corpses into Vendicare. Yet he cannot.

His chains are lost to him- disintegrated alongside his once body- and honestly, Jager is uncertain if he can still access Vendicare. The Night Flames that had kept his undead body moving- and granted him access to Vendicare- had belonged to Bermuda. Would they still be there if he looked?

Jager doubted it. He could feel the Flames beneath his skin and there was not an ounce of the usual hatred- he had become accustomed to- latched onto them.

If anything they were distant and comforting, rigid yet warm.

Despite that, its damning in Jager's mind as solid proof his Bond with Bermuda- His Lord and Beloved Cloudy Sky- had become completely severed with this new chance at Life.

The irony was not lost on Jager- After so long he finally had His Elements once more yet he had no Sky, no Home that surrounded him with a sense of safety or Shelter to rest within- yet there was nothing he could do about it.

He could not reach Bermuda and even if he did would the other believe him? Would his Flames even accept the other's? Checkerface had ruined His Lord's Flames; tearing the Clouds asunder and leaving the Sky tainted with missing portions that filled itself with Hatred giving birth to the Night Sky that suppressed even Death.

"FREAK!" The man who was supposed to be his Uncle bellowed as he entered the house- slamming the door to the point even the glass wobbled- with a dark red-ish-purple face that Jager learned meant rage.

A part of Jager just sighs as the toddler wonders what type of 'Freakiness' the man will accuse him of doing now. God forbid something ill happen and it not be his fault.

If Jager is honest, he's never attended a day of schooling in either this life or the last- the closest thing he had ever come to school had been the darkness of Bermuda's bedroom lite by a smoldering candle as the other attempted to teach him the basics- so the emerald eyed toddler doesn't see why his so called 'Family' seems to smug about sending Dudley and denying his access to an education.

Dudley is gone from the house for eight hours a day and five days a week.

Every day when he returns though, his Pig of a cousin complains to anyone who will listen about school being 'Hellish Torture', the 'cruelty' of the teachers and the lunch ladies attempts at 'starving' him by only permitting him one serving. He throws a temper about wanting to stay home like the 'Freak'- for once it doesn't seem to work on his parents the way Pig wanted them to- for while they coddle him neither will remove him from his 'preschool'.

It continues like this for a month before Jager finds the first letter; addressed to his 'Aunt' and 'Uncle' informing them Dudley had been neglecting him homework and doing only the bare minimum of his Class Work. Its heavy implied that should he not pull his act together, Dudley will fail his 'pre-schooling'.

Now a normal child is his position might have rushed the Notice to his Aunt and Uncle- hoping for once to see 'Prefect' Dudley knocked off his golden pedestal- but Jager on the other hand, just folded the letter and hide it within his clothes- that resembled more elephant skin then fabric- as all he saw was Opportunity all but throwing itself into his lap.

So he strikes up a deal- "I can help you pass at the top of your class"- that he knows Dudley will not turn away as the child fears should he change his parents would treat him the same way they treat Jager. Jager knowns they never will- they actually loved their 'normal' son who actually had a Latent Flame within him- but the toddler keeps that to himself, allowing the other child to make all the wrong assumptions since they work in his favor.

What? Its not like manipulating a child was the worst thing he had ever done.

Dudley, on the other hand, can't help but feel as though he's made a deal with the Devil wen he notices the unholy gleam within his cousins Unnatural Emerald eyes. It doesn't help when that look focuses solely on him, "Alright, let me look over your lessons for today and once you have a proper understanding of that we'll focus on your homework."

His cousin is a Sadist, Dudley quickly learns but he can't deny the other is effective in helping him rise towards the top ten of his class.

He's spent too much time in the cupboard, Jager decides the night he swears he hears his Bermuda Plushy whisper to him.

Jager, get up.

Within the darkness, Jager cannot help but blink as unnatural emerald eyes focused solely upon his doll, which was held in a tight possessive grip. Childish or not, that doll was his. It would not be becoming fire kindle like the broken toy Dudley had felt gracious enough to grant him after his progress report came in.

"Bermuda?"

Jager, you must get up.

In all honesty, Jager doesn't want to- he worn down and tired and its the middle of the night all he wants to do is sleep as he has a Christmas Feast to prepare for tomorrow- but he's never been one to disobey His Lord even if he was certain the other's voice was but a delusion- caused by dehydration as Freaks were only allowed half a coffee cup of water a day despite laboring the day away in the harsh sun- in his mind. So he pushes himself into a sitting position- brushing the long bangs out of his eyes. For some reason his Aunt seemed unable of butchering his hair without it growing back almost instantly- yet finds he's unable to fully sit up as there's another body clinging to his waistline.

It takes him a moment to recall the form is his Cousin who had decided to hide in his cupboard after his first proper argument with his parents- the child logically managing to come to the conclusion this would be the last place they would look for him- about deserts of all things.

Honestly, Jager couldn't see why it was so important if the ice-cream was chocolate or strawberry as his cousin usually devoured both as though he was a black hole yet strangely enough Dudley had decided he no longer liked strawberry and all but demanded Jager be forced to eat it since it was 'expired -though how that happened Jager didn't know as they just bought the pail three days ago- bland and disgusting'. His 'relatives on the other hand had wanted to throw it out which quickly dissolved into an argument over what to do with the desert that led to Dudley climbing inside his cupboard sometime in the night.

Jager-

"Alright, I'm going." With a soft sigh Jager reached gently shook the child's shoulder, "Dudley, I need you to get up."

"Harry," a soft mumble reached his ear as his cousins grip tightened, "Go back to sleep."

"Can't," Jager spoke bluntly, "Bermuda said I need to leave."

His cousin stilled for a moment before half lidded eyes meet Jager's own, "Harry, you realize Bermuda is a doll, right? A creepy doll but still a doll and even I know Dolls can't speak."

"I'm not crazy," Jager mumbles knowing exactly how it looked to an outsider.

In the end, Jager- clutching Bermuda like a lifeline- manages to talk his way out of the cupboard but unfortunately he was incapable of talking his way out of acquiring an extra shadow in the form of his cousin; though to be honest, the emerald eyed child didn't really try. He was going to but then Bermuda had told him to bring the other child with him, so he did.

In the end, Dudley was right.

The voice had been but a delusion in Jager's mind though a helpful one, Jager decides as two children finally managed their way back home- though he was unsure why Bermuda's Voice insisted they walk across town and back at the time- only to find a smoldering ruin of what once was a house surrounded by the flashing lights of police, firetrucks and strangely enough; People wearing bathrobes and waving sticks that no one else seemed to see.

They want to send them to an orphanage.

Originally, it was just supposed to be Jager- as Dudley had blooding willing to shelter the now orphaned child- though it had not lasted long once Marge Dudley finally arrive to collect her nephew only to ignore the child and go direction for Jager. The whale of a woman was all but foaming at the mouth as she attempted to strange- though her hands never managed to reach Jager's throat- the child she verbally accused of murdering her bother and his wife despite all evidence indicating it had been a house fire caused by faulty wiring.

She had still been screaming- promising him death in slowly most agonizing ways possible- when the officers had been forced to drag the hysterical- deluded- woman away. An investigation into her home life soon deemed her unfit to care for a child once they discovered exactly how she 'cared' for- and trained- her dogs.

Dudley, for once in his life, doesn't seem to know what to do -as his temper, crying and threatening cannot change reality -so he stays close to his cousins side, clinging to the other's free arm- the other occupied by that creepy doll- as though it was a lifeline. Jager speaks not against or for it, allowing the other to cling like a leech as his mind wonders over the possibilities that could await them and the best way to ensure their continual safety.

After all, the Estrangeos acquired most of their experiments from Orphanages as did most Mafia Styled Families when it came to bringing in New Flames- there was no way in hell he was going to become an experiment let alone join a Famiglia if he could help it. While he may not have the strength he once did , Jager still considered himself a Vindice and no matter what he would have his Vendicare Pride- into the fold.

Unfortunately that would be the least of Jager's worries once he figured out exactly what organization was sponsoring the orphanage which he and Dudley were to be sent to. Emerald eyes stared blankly at the papers in his tiny hands before the four year old grabbed his doll and a small backpack- he had made as a 'just in case' - before making his way towards the window.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

Dudley asked curiously as he watched his cousin swing a leg out of the open window.

"Running away."

"Why?"

Sure this wasn't exactly the ideal housing for him- the orphanage was a bit crowded to the point everyone had to share a room- and tempers only ended up with him in the corner instead of getting his way like it used to- but it was also one of the best orphanages out there so why give it up for the streets?

"Because I refuse to stay anywhere owned by Vongola."

Jager was rather determined to Never figure out if Vongola's Famed Hyper Intuition could tell the difference between reincarnated souls and normal souls. Therefore, his best bet was to leave before whoever was in charge of this district made their annual rounds for both Public Support and Flame Scouting.

"Harry," Dudley began slowly as he set up in his bed, giving the smaller- who was trying to pull himself out the open window- a concerned look, "You're not still hearing voices from your Doll, are you?"