Albert Wesker sighed into his phone and placed it (none too gently) down onto the receiver. He was very stressed.

He pursed his lips, sliding out his chair and eyeing the children mulling around outside. He had to leave for America soon, but he really didn't want to go. He was to make his way up through the Police before starting his own branch while Umbrella's testing continued; but damnit, he'd made himself comfortable here!

He slammed his door shut behind him and locked it, walking down the street. It was Halloween, one of the holidays Wesker dreaded. Children came to his door, begging for candy. Urgh.

The scent of smoke and fire hit his sensitive nose and he searched for the source; there was a roaring inferno where his neighbours, the Potters, lived. Nobody else seemed to notice and there were no fire engines. Odd.

There was a high, wailing cry so he stepped over to the wreckage, covering his nose and mouth from the smoke. He stepped through the door and grimaced at the sight of James Potter, lying limp at the bottom of his sofa. Wesker slid the man's eyes shut, heading up the stairs. They had a small son, Harry, and there was still wailing coming from his nursery.

He narrowly avoided a burning beam and stepped over a pile of soot near the crib.

Wide, glazed green eyes met his own icy grey-green and the man felt a tiny smile tug at his lips. Harry Potter was a cute little thing. He frowned at the sight of the bloody cut on the boys forehead and wiped the blood away, swinging the baby into his arms and nestling him into his hip.

He slid Lily Potter's eyes shut before leaving England behind in his mind, packing his belongings and ordering a new, quick first-class ticket for the little boy.

It seemed like nobody cared about the Potters, but even he wasn't cruel enough to leave an orphaned baby to die.

He rushed home, bathing the little child (who still had the same, glazed eyes but he wasn't crying any more), belatedly realising he had nothing to clothe him with, or even any nappies or dummies. Was he really going to loot the Potters home for baby clothes?

No.

He bundled the boy in blankets (as he only looked to be around a year old, it wouldn't make a difference),gently laying him on the sofa. The baby's stomach had rumbled when he was being washed.

"Baby formula? Could regular milk work?" Wesker hummed, heating the milk up and injecting the tiniest amount of digestive enzyme into it. He mixed it quickly, soon realising he had nothing to feed the child with. He nearly cursed at his own quick-mindedness.

He found a teat and a bottle, placing the teat into boiling water to sterilise it. The things he found were things he'd taken from Umbrella labs and he didn't want to think what had been used with the teat, but for now it would have to do.

He handed the milk to the boy who gulped it down greedily, the sound of little sucks filling the air.

There was a hesitant knocking on his door.

He grimaced and shushed the baby, sliding the door open a crack. A worried, slightly aged face stared back at him. "Alright mate?" the man asked, hurrying on. "Earlier - me mates house were on fire, and his son has gone missin' - "

"The Potters?" Wesker murmured. "I saw the fire but there was someone taking care of it. How are James and Lily? Harry has gone missing?" He opened the door wider, knowing the disheveled man couldn't see the suckling Harry.

"You know them? James and Lily are dead, mate; did you see anyone suspicious with Harry?" The man asked worriedly.

"Who are you?" Wesker asked bluntly. "I heard the child crying but then it stopped. How did they die?"

The man blinked watery eyes. "I'm Sirius Black, mate. They, er - Someone - "

Wesker knew this man. He was in a picture with James. "Sirius Black? Sirius..." he hummed in thought, letting the man in onto his doormat. "Sirius, I'm not being entirely truthful with you. I have Harry right here."

Sirius eyes shot open fully as he began to look around wildly for the baby. "Why do you have him?"

"I went for a walk and heard him crying. There was nobody there and he was crying, so I took him." Wesker gestured to the little boy, still drinking his milk, while Sirius nodded knowledgeably.

"I'll take him off you - "

"No." Wesker hissed icily. "No, you're not. His parents are dead and I'm presuming murdered. He'd be safer with me." And nobody noticed the burning house, and if only one man cared about this little boy then no.

"Mate, you don't understand - "

"I am not your 'mate', Mr. Black. I know all about the Magical world and the fellow after killing the Potters - Harry is safer with me. If he goes into the Wizarding World, he could be killed at any moment." Oh yes, Albert Wesker knew everything about the Wizarding World. He knew, but the Potters didn't realise he did.

Sirius clicked his tongue. "Then I'm staying with you, mate."

"And therein lies the issue, sir. In one day I am getting a flight to America and I have already found a house and a seat for him on the flight. Will you come with me to America, too? I have his papers forged and his child passport done and dusted; do you have any of these items?"

Sirius thought for a moment before he started to nod. "I'll give you the money for a ticket; I'm not leaving my Godson. I'll make my own papers - do you have your own so I can make a copy?"

Wesker inclined his head; it was an admirable trait, loyalty to your family. Wesker had no family to be loyal to. "You may sleep on the sofa. Our flight is at tea time tomorrow evening, roughly six thirty so we will be arriving at the airport for five. I will be buying Harry clothing and formula in the morning."

Sirius gave the man a tiny smile, but there was a feeling of uneasiness in his stomach. He felt so compelled to do whatever the man ordered him to do.

Harry let out a tiny burp and gave a bright smile. "Pa'foo!" he cooed, pudgy fingers making grasping motions to the shaggy haired man. Sirius picked the child up with a small smile, removing his wand from the band of his trousers and transfiguring the blankets into a light green sleep suit.

"Hello, Harry," Sirius whispered, fighting back the prickle of tears. "How are you?"

"I am well, Pa'foo!" Harry beamed, his bright green eyes resting on Wesker. "Hello!" he chirped, waving a pudgy hand in greeting. Wesker smiled warmly and waved back. "Hello, uncle Albie! How are you?" Harry parroted. "I am well, uncle Albie!"

"I am well, Harry," Wesker beamed and Sirius thought that the man wasn't used to smiling.

Sirius had forged his documents very well and changed his clothing into a sharp, black Muggle suit. He quickly charmed a chair into a car seat and strapped the giggling Harry in, Wesker (Albert just didn't seem to fit the man, although Harry was fond of calling him Albie, never Albert) picking up the car seat and one of his suitcases, swinging them into the car.

Sirius had withdrawn all of his Gringott's money (before his assets were frozen from the Ministry) and made a Muggle account under the name of "James Patrick Black-Wesker" as well as creating a new identity for Harry. Harry was now "Harrison James Black-Wesker" which was a long mouthful, but Harry would always be Harry Potter in his eyes.

Wesker gave Sirius a blank look and the man levitated everything else into the car, shrinking it down so that it all fit. As Wesker was of high importance, he was permitted more luggage than most people on the flight (he was rather smug about it, if he was honest).

Harry was still babbling to himself by the time they got to Manchester airport and they were allowed admission almost immediately; Wesker headed straight for the bar and ordered two shots of whiskey as well as asking someone to heat up milk for him, sheepishly gesturing to Harry.

"Oh, is he your son?" the barmaid asked politely, cleaning two glasses out for their shots of whiskey. Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but Wesker beat him to it.

"He's mine, yes." Wesker gave her a tight smile, as well as a scathing look to Sirius. Sirius quickly remembered what Wesker had told him - Harry was now his in all but blood (but Wesker could probably change that soon enough, too) and if Wesker ever died, it would be left to the little boy.

"Where's his mother?" The woman sniffed delicately, suspicion clear in her eyes.

"Dead," Sirius spat. "Where are our drinks, ma'am?"

The woman flushed and handed them their drinks carefully, as well as a steaming cup of milk. Wesker ignored his own drink in favour of filling up a baby bottle with formula, a tiny drop of digestion enzyme and filling the bottle with the milk. He placed the teat on upside down, shaking the mixture thoroughly and leaving it to cool. Sirius removed a small pot of baby food from the seemingly never-ending baby bag and began to feed the boy until the food was all gone. Wesker slipped the teat into Harry's mouth before knocking back his drink.

"Nervous flyer?" Sirius grinned cheekily, leaning against the bar. Wesker sent him a flat look and didn't reply; the man was beneath him in intelligence and annoying, frankly.

"You are here because of Harry." Wesker murmured, eyeing the boy with a fond expression as he suckled heartily on the bottle.

Sirius blanched and said nothing, knocking back his own glass. There was something wrong with that expression on the other man's face.

Last night was spent sleeping on Sirius' part, so he never really had time to study the man. Now he had the chance. Wesker was only young, maybe twenty four at the most. He had neatly slicked back blond hair, very pale skin and cold green-grey eyes. He had a strong jaw and a thick throat, broad shouldered and tall; maybe six foot tall? "How old are you, mate?" Sirius asked, unable to stop himself.

Wesker smirked. "I'm twenty, mate, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty one!" Sirius snorted to himself, shaking his head. "You look so old for your age."

Wesker studied the other man; he had stormy grey eyes and pitch-black hair that fell in loose waves to his shoulders. The man had tied it back today, at the nape of his neck. He was close-shaven, but there was slight stubble around his jawline. He had a penchant for wearing blazers and he had laughing lines (already?) around his eyes and lips. He had protruding cheekbones that gave him an aristocratic appeal. "Thank you." Wesker smirked to himself when he heard the man gulp.

He removed a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, covered his eyes from view and picked up the child carrier and bag. Harry gave him a toothy smile and held the bottle out to Sirius, who swapped it with a dummy.

They were ushered onto the plane, sitting close to the cockpit, with opposing seats. Wesker rest his hand on Harry's stomach as the boy played with his fingers, sliding his eyes shut and buckling his belt. "How long is this flight?"

"Well, we're headed for Midwestern America, near the Arklay mountains. We're headed to Raccoon City. Flight time? Probably between eleven to thirteen hours," Wesker smirked slightly at the man's spluttering. "We have the best seats this flight could offer; stop complaining."

Sirius snarled and sighed, relaxing into his plush leather seat. He groaned loudly and removed one of Harry's baby blankets and quickly enlarged it, hoping no Muggles saw him.

It felt like no time at all as Wesker heard, "The flight to Raccoon City airport is now beginning to descend. Please do up your seatbelts. I repeat; please do up your seatbelts. Those with children should strap their carriers down again and place the child into the carrier."

The intercom ended with a loud blip and he threaded the seatbelt through the underneath of the carrier, clipping the sleeping child in place. He tugged the little blue hat further over the child's hair and removed his shoes, tugging thick woolly socks onto his little feet.

Sirius watched him in distaste before he shrunk the blanket back down and folded it up neatly, placing it into the baby bag.

The plane landed without fault and Harry was still asleep; they bustled into the baggage claim and, amusingly (for Sirius), their items came out first. "Thank Merlin..."

A man in a black suit was waiting for them and Sirius gulped. Just who was Albert Wesker?

They were ushered into a black limousine and Sirius quickly shrunk their suitcases down, placing them into his pockets.

In five minutes, they'd gone through the majority of the city and arrived at a two-story house. Sirius gave the other man a look of begrudging appreciation and opened the limo door.

The house was old in design, white and brown with a high, sloping roof. There was a long drive, with a car and a motorbike both gleaming on the red brick. Sirius grinned at his old bike and ran his hand through his hair. The car was a shining black colour and it was very smooth - Sirius knew next to nothing about cars so he didn't comment. It looked expensive, at least. Wesker passed him, Harry tucked firmly in his arms, shoving the baby carrier into Sirius' hands as he went.

Wesker removed the keys to the house from his pocket and gave the driver a small wave as the man drove away. The door clicked open and he stepped in, inhaling the scent of paint. It was very basic in furniture, but thanks to Sirius' nifty ability, that could be fixed with his old furniture.

"What job are you thinking about, Wesker?" Sirius asked from behind him, enlarging the bags and furniture before levitating it into place.

"I'm going into the Police force. What are you going to do? No doubt it'll get boring around here."

"Could I join you with that, mate?" Sirius gave him a tiny smile. "I'm alright on my feet and nifty with my hands."

"Do as you wish, Sirius. Will Harry be going to daycare or should I hire a nanny?"

Sirius suddenly adopted a frown. "Maybe I'll stay at home until he's old enough to go into school, actually... Work a job from home or something,"

"You could paint," Wesker shrugged his shoulders while Harry blinked in his arms, beginning to shift about. The child had been asleep roughly twenty hours since Voldemort had attacked, spending another hour awake. "Or write, you know... Things like that. Anything that suits you, Sirius."

"You should call me James from now on, mate."

Wesker had S.T.A.R.S. up and running within a two years, while Harry grew bigger and bigger as time went on. He'd started calling Sirius "Papa" and Wesker "Daddy", something that had greatly upset Sirius until Wesker had sent him sprawling to the ground with a broken jaw.

The man hid a noticeable eyebrow twitch. "Christopher," he purred, scaring the bulky male half-to-death. "Do your paperwork!"

Jill hid her giggles behind her hand.

The blond man flinched when the door was flung open, his hand shooting his gun on instinct. "Daddy!" Harry chirped, his shirt backwards and covered in muck.

"James..." Wesker growled to himself, although Chris picked up on it and wondered who James was. "Hello, Harry," Wesker sighed, moving from behind his subordinate and scooping the excitable three year old into his arms. Wesker counted himself lucky that only Chris and Jill were in the room, because he'd never hear the end of this if Forest was here. "How are you?"

"I am very well, daddy! Papa gave me a lollipop earlier but I told him I don't eat that rubbish you scoundrel like you told me too!" Harry was a very smart little boy, Wesker smiled softly to himself. A very smart little boy.

"Did he? Where is papa now, aye?" he whispered softly, a smile curving on his lips.

"He said he's waiting around the corner because he doesn't want you to shoot him," Harry's innocent green eyes blinked up at him in pure adoration. "I told him he deserved it."

Wesker sniggered to himself, quickly catching himself. The damage had been done; Chris was staring in utter shock while Jill was watching in bemusement and confusion.

"James!" his voice rang out sharply and the man's guilty face popped around the corner. "What is the meaning of this?"

"He wanted to see you, mate - " Wesker sighed.

"I don't mind the fact that Harry's here you fool; why is he so filthy and why is his shirt on backwards?"

Sirius smiled wickedly. "We've been decorating!"

"I did your room daddy," Harry cooed, wrapping his arms around the man's face and shuffling himself onto the man's shoulders. "There's me an' you and papa! And mummy and father, too, but they're up in the clouds," Wesker smiled warmly and nodded along, moving over to his desk and falling into his chair. Sirius stepped into the room and began to look around, eyeing Chris and Jill in interest; Jill gave him a grin. "And there was Remy too, but I don't know where Remy is so he's in the woods."

"And what's in your room?"

"I have the clouds and mummy and father and then I have the sun and you, and then I have the stars so I put papa there and then I have the moon so I put Remy there, cause he's a werewolf."

Wesker let out a small laugh. "And what would uncle Remus say if he heard you call him a werewolf?"

Harry scrunched his nose up in thought, a mischievous smile breaking out on his cherub-like face. He began to whimper like a puppy, bursting into loud, noisy howls. Wesker laughed louder before stopping and shaking his head in amusement. Chris began to shake his head in denial; this wasn't his Captain! The snarky man... could laugh?

"What you doin' here, daddy?" Harry asked, sliding down into the man's lap. "Can I help?"

"I'm making Christopher do paperwork, Harry," Wesker pointed at the astonished man, who waved numbly. Harry burst into giggles and waved back. "But would you like to see some shooting instead?"

"Yes!" Harry chirped, grabbing Wesker's hand in his own and hopping off the man's lap. Wesker pretended to be pulled by the little boy and walked hunched over because Harry wasn't letting go of his hand any time soon.

"Come, Christopher," Wesker gave the man a cold stare. "And you too, Jill. James, for your faux par, you're staying here."

Sirius spluttered. "Excuse me - !"

Wesker gave the other man a sharp glare and Sirius pouted, sitting in Chris' recently vacated seat. Jill smiled and stooped down to Harry's level, shaking his free hand. "Hello, Harry, I'm Jill."

"Hello Jill, how are you today? Are you well?" Harry replied, his eyes completely focussed on Wesker. Wesker ruffled Harry's hair and lead the four to the shooting range.

"I am very well, Harry, thank you for asking." Jill replied, slightly shocked by the pure love Harry exuded for her Captain. Wesker seemed to love him back, which she guilty thought was impossible for the cold man.

"Are you well, Christopher?" Harry asked politely, his bright green eyes staring into Chris' dark blue.

"I am very well, Harry; call me Chris." Chris grinned at the little boy and gave him a tiny salute.

"Okay, Mr. Chris."

Wesker stopped and swung the boy onto his hip; he fitted the mufflers firmly over Harry's ears before giving the boy another warm little smile and sliding his sunglasses onto Harry's face. Harry shrieked in delight and puckered his lips out, his green eyes watering slightly.

Wesker gave Jill and Chris scathing glares, promising death if word got out, and gave Harry a very wet kiss (he subtly tried to wipe the spittle from his face and hoped it wasn't as noticeable).

He stepped into the booth and Harry watched as the bullet flew from his gun and hit dead centre in the dummies head. Harry cheered and clapped his hands together. "Daddy! Daddy!"

Wesker gave him a short bow, giving Chris a demanding look. Chris grinned, flexed his arms, removing his own hand gun and hitting the dummy in the junction between the ear and the jaw, repeating the same on the other side and finishing with a bullet to the dummy's chest.

"Daddy's better."

"Daddy!" Harry beamed, leaping onto the man's pant leg and grappling into the man's awaiting arms. Harry pressed a sloppy kiss to the man's lips, his hands coiled into blond hair. "I missed you!"

"You saw me this morning..." the man murmured in slight confusion, while Forest and Barry watched in confusion. Jill was smiling happily at Harry, who was waving back while Chris just sipped his coffee, flipping through papers.

"Yes, but this morning was ages ago, daddy!"

"Wesker's got a kid?" Barry chortled.

"Captain Wesker!" Harry chirped, pressing another wet kiss to the man's smirking lips.

Harry is seven now, Wesker mused as he swirled the icing onto the cake. Seven. That meant he'd been with Wesker for six years and as time went on, he didn't want to let his son go.

"Harry!" Wesker called. "Are you nearly ready? Redfield and Jill are coming over!"

There was a positive yell in response, Harry appearing at the opening for the kitchen. His ink black hair had been combed and combed, but it still stuck out like a bird's nest. He was pouting, handing the brush out. "Daaaaddy!" He stuck his lip out further. "Could you do my hair for me please?"

Wesker gave him a tiny little grin and shook his head. "What about when you go to Hogwarts? I won't be able to do your hair for you then!"

Harry gave him a tiny little glare and suddenly he was being pulled away from the counter and there was a brush in his hands. "Harry..." Wesker growled in warning, but Harry stuck his tongue out.

"I'm not going Hogwarts daddy, I'm staying with you forever and ever!" Harry promised and Wesker didn't have the heart to disagree with him. He smiled, a true smile, and began to slowly comb through Harry's unmanageable hair.

Harry tried to stop the tears from falling, really he did, but he didn't want to go to Hogwarts with his holly and phoenix feather wand, or his familiar named Hegwig. He wanted to stay with his parents, with his daddy.

"Don't cry," Wesker whispered, leaning down and wrapping his arms around his little boy. Jill was surprisingly bright eyed while Chris shifted around uncomfortably; Harry had managed to grow on the pair so much that his leaving to a boarding school was something that upset them, too. "You'll write to me every day, understand? And if you're ever upset or you need someone to talk to, just send me a message, through James or Hedwig, and I'll come sort it out for you."

Harry released his dad and gave him a solemn nod, moving onto Jill. The brown haired woman gave him a bright smile and pressed a kiss onto his hair, before he flung his arms around her waist and began to sob. Jill passed him to Chris who hid his own bright eyes and crushed the boy with a hug.

"It's only a few months, kid, then you'll be back..." Chris soothed, rubbing heavy circles into Harry's back. Harry hiccuped loudly, Chris gaving the boy back to his Captain.

"I love you," Wesker whispered, his voice only a breath to Jill and Chris. "Be safe, Harry, be strong."

"Love you, daddy," Harry murmured into the man's neck. "I'm missing you already." Harry giggled and his breath tickled Wesker's neck; the man's heart clenched and his stomach seemed to be full of lead.

And a week to that day, Wesker betrayed S.T.A.R.S. and Sirius Black and the little Harry Potter, and as the Tyrant raked his claws through his body he hoped Harry would never see him like this.

Harry gazed around the Great Hall in awe; he only hoped one day his papa and daddy would be able to see it! He knew, logically, that his papa must have seen it, but -

"Potter, Harry?" McGonagall repeated, aghast. Harry Potter was dead!

Harry's eyes snapped to the front as he remembered that he wasn't "Black-Wesker" any more. He put on his best smile and stepped forward, ignoring the silence in the room and the tears prickling in Professor McGonagall's eyes.

"Oh, plenty of courage I see..." Someone was speaking to him! "Yes, child, I am. I am the Sorting Hat."

"Hello Mr. Hat!" Harry chirped, but it rebounded across his brain uncomfortably. "How are you, Mr. Hat? Are you well?"

The Hat chuckled, coming across the younger memories of Harry Potter. "Plenty of loyalty, too, but it's selective. There's a good drive here, too, but you don't really want to be anything, do you? You want to be the best son for Albert Wesker? Better be - " "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry beamed and thanked the Hat out loud, placing it gently onto the seat and stepping to the house that had erupted into roars. When people started shaking his hand, he stuffed them into his pockets with a bright face and sat down next to a "Granger, Hermione".

"Hello," she whispered. "I've read all about you, you know - "

Harry held a finger up to his lips and turned back to the sorting.

Harry stared at Professor Dumbledore in shock; Professor McGonagall was sniffling noisily into a tissue while Professor Snape and Professor Quirrel both watched him with impassive eyes. "You thought I was dead?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly and leant forward in his chair. "Where have you been, Mr. Potter?"

"I've been with my papa and daddy!" Harry burst out, ignoring the fact that this only seemed to upset McGonagall and Dumbledore further. "My daddy, Albert Wesker, and my papa, James Wesker-Black!"

"Black?" Professor Snape sneered. Harry nodded his head quickly and removed a thin chain from around his neck; he opened the heart shaped pendant attached and handed it to Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore paled at the sight of Sirius Black, grinning, his arms wrapped around Harry's neck, and paled further as an unknown blond in the other image had a baby Harry sat on his shoulders, a toothy smile on his shark-like face.

"There is no doubt in my mind - " Dumbledore stammered. "This is Sirius Black - Sirius Black kidnapped Harry Potter - !"

A sparkling gadget in Dumbledore's room smashed into glittering pieces. "I was not kidnapped, sir!" Harry snapped, his angry eyes welling up. He didn't want to cry! "Would you rather I be left in a burning building? I could have died!" Harry ignored the person screaming at him not to shout at a figure of authority; what did they mean? Why would Harry get in trouble for correcting them? "So daddy came and rescued me! He saved me!"

"He's been brainwashed, Albus - !" McGonagall spat, her grey eyes stormy and cold.

All of the gadgets in Professor Dumbledore's room smashed and Harry's eyes flashed a poisonous green. There was a coldness in the air that made even Severus feel shifty.

"Would you like me to check his memories, sir?" Professor Quirrel asked Dumbledore respectfully, placing the tip of his wand to Harry's scar.

"Daddy!" Harry babbled, handing the shell-shocked blond man a drawing.

"Papa!" Harry cooed, taking his first steps towards his Godfather.

"I love you," Harry smiled.

"I love you too."

adoration love desperation weakness power devotion

Albert Wesker did what he did best, like he did before little Harry came along.

He watched.

He watched as Chris and Jill evaded the Tyrant's massive claws, watched as Jill was flung into glass with thick, bloody gashes on her back, watched as Chris screeched in rage as the Tyrant's claw clipped his leg.

"How could you do this to Harry?" Chris asked sadly, while the Tyrant brought his claw down into Wesker's heart and Chris killed the Tyrant.

Chris let out a harsh sob, dropping down next to his Captain. Unwillingly, tears slid down his face.

He took the man's sunglasses, knowing how much Harry loved them, as well as the man's personalised gun. "Don't worry," he whispered. "You died a hero, to Harry; I can live with the guilt and shame, I think. Harry will never know and you died with a declaration of love in your throat."

Chris slid the man's eyes shut and picked Jill up.

Why was he crying?

What was he mourning?

Was he mourning his cold Captain, who could probably stop a storm the moment he smiled?

Or maybe he was mourning poor little Harrison Wesker's innocence?

Dark blue eyes clenched shut.

Albert Wesker was dead.

Albert Wesker

Albert Wesker died.

Albert Wesker is dead.

How would Sirius tell Harry?

Harry had lost his father, and now he'd lost his daddy.

"We're coming with you," Jill murmured, giving Sirius Black a tiny little smile. "Harry will need us all."

Sirius swallowed down the lump in his throat and gave Christopher Redfield a one-armed hug, crushing Jill's lithe body against his own.

Dear daddy, Wesker read.

I love you and miss you tonnes. I've made friends with a lovely young girl named Hermione - I think you'd like her! She's very smart and kind, but she can be a bit bossy. She has curly brown hair, that borders on frizzy, with pale skin and hazel eyes. Look, here's a picture of me and her! She said that you sound like a good man, but she's hesitant about papa; I told her about the pranks he pulls! Do you think I could stay hers sometime, or she stays with us?

How is papa? How is uncle Chris and auntie Jill? I hope everyone is well! I'm missing you all so terribly.

You won't believe what happened! I was sorted into Gryffindor, the house of the Brave, and the next morning I was taken to the Headmaster's office! I was trying to think what I'd done, but they soon answered the question for me. Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, treated me like a child! I am not a child, daddy! Am I?

Please do not come to England, daddy, because I fear they may lock you up and throw away the key. You have been accused of kidnapping me, as well as brainwashing me. Please never come to England, daddy, because I don't want you to get hurt. I love you, daddy, but even with your gun, they could kill you.

How is papa? In England, he is seen as a estranged criminal who killed mother and father. That's a lie, isn't it?

Oh, guess what else? I'm technically dead, too, in England. I was pronounced dead after you took me away from the rubble.

Daddy, you said I could talk to you about anything - a boy in my year, Draco Malfoy, told me that I would "end up the same way as your parents, Potter" and I'm quite worried. Will people try to kill me? If they do, would you protect me until I could protect myself?

Daddy, I'm sad. I really miss you. I can't talk to anyone like I talk to you.

I'm sad, too, about my Potions lesson. Yes, real potions! My teacher, Professor Snape, loathes me. He told me that I was a useless dunderhead. Am I a useless dunderhead, dad?

I love you lots and lots,

Harry x

Dear daddy, Wesker read again.

Why didn't you reply to my letter, daddy?

I love you.

I've been made the Gryffindor Seeker in Quidditch, daddy!

Why does papa say that you've died? You're not dead, are you?

I love you lots and miss you tonnes,

Harry x

Dear daddy, Wesker ignored the prickly feeling behind his crimson and gold eyes.

Draco told me I was worthless and that I'd only be good as a whore.

What's a whore, daddy?

Love,

Harry x

Dear daddy, Wesker felt sick.

I know what a whore is. Papa told me. Lucius Malfoy says I'd only be good as a whore, too. And Professor Quirrel...

Why haven't you written back to me yet, daddy?

Love, Harry

Dear dad,

Why are you dead, daddy?

Harry

Dear dad,

I've been accused of murdering peoples parents and I could really do with you to speak to

Harry

Dear dad,

I need you, daddy

Harry

Dear daddy,

Please come back.

I need you, daddy, I love you. Chris keeps trying to be my new dad but I don't want him, I want you back.

Can't you come back to life for me?

I need you, daddy, I miss you and I love you

Harry x

Wesker knew the letters from heart, cover to back. Every word, every damn word hit him like a knife to his heart. He felt sick.

He pressed the large red button on the Licker's tank and the Licker's fell unconscious, one by one. He let a cruel smirk pass over his face.

Quirrel and Lucius Malfoy, hmm? Calling his boy a 'whore'?

MALFOY SR. FOUND DEAD, MAULED

PROFESSOR QUIRINUS QUIRREL FOUND DEAD, MAULED

Images inside, full story on page three.

For information on Lord Malfoy's kindness to the Wizarding World, turn to page five

For the accomplished of Quirinus Quirrel, see blurb at back

For more information on the Boy-Who-Lived, see page six

Harry gazed at his godfather, Sirius Black, with cold impassive eyes. Chris smiled weakly and slid the sunglasses over Harry's eyes, his Captain's gun tucked firmly into his side.

Jill wrapped her icy cold arms around his shoulders, a large swell in her abdomen. "Boy or girl?" Harry asked quietly.

"Girl," she whispered, haggard and tired in appearance. "What do you think we should name her?"

"Lily," Harry whispered back. "Who's is it?"

She flushed a light shade of red. "It's James'," Harry quickly realised they didn't know Sirius' name yet, but they had finally found out about the Magical world. "Lily is a grand name for this little kicker."

Wesker picked Harry up and left, leaving behind a slept-in bed and a kidnapping note.

It was better this way.

He removed the H/W623 serum from his pocket and injected it into Harry's arm.

His son had grown up a lot, really. His hair was longer, his body had grown out to thin, awkward limbs with angular bones and sharp curves and overall, he'd lost a lot of weight. His hair was limp and he had given up caring on himself.

Wesker smiled happily when the changes began; the H/W623 serum was his newest creation that combined Harry's blood with Wesker's (mutated) own, making Harry the son Wesker wished he had. It also meant that Harry would become much like himself, but he wouldn't actually mutate. The virus in Wesker's blood wouldn't touch Harry's.

Wesker opened his bedroom door and lay Harry down in his bed, quickly removing his shoes, jacket and socks and curling up next to his son.

His son.

Sirius swallowed back the frightened lump in his throat when Harry didn't respond. He's fine, he's fine...

He opened the door with a quiet click; his eyes fell on the crumbled note wrapped in Harry's sheets.

He swallowed again, roughly, opening the note with shaking hands.

I have taken what is mine.

If you come searching, you will meet your doom.

Congratulations, Jill; maybe this little one could replace the one you've lost?

Sirius' worst fears had been recognised; he'd lost his son and godson in one fell swoop, his last reminder of James and Lily...

The note fell to the floor.

Harry opened his eyes and stretched out; he felt better than he had in years! There was something to right of him, but an instinct in him told him not to open his eyes. "Hello?" he murmured.

Wesker shot up and slid sunglasses onto Harry's eyes, his thin lips curved into a happy smile. Harry's eyes were a deathly shade of icy grey-green, much like his own... but brighter. "Hello, son," Wesker murmured, pressing a feather-soft kiss to Harry's nose and pressing his forehead onto the boy's own. "I've missed you."

Wesker took Harry's momentary shock to study the new changes. Harry's hair had gone from inky black to a shade of white-blond that was eerily similar to his own. His skin was so much paler, glowing in the low light of the bedroom; it was a milky white, nothing like the paper white of Wesker's own. His eyes were rounder and larger, while his jawline had gone from heart-shaped to a softer version of Wesker's.

"Daddy?" he breathed, Wesker's arms were full of a sobbing little boy, desperate for attention.

"I have my son again," Wesker told Birkin with a sharp smile. "And I've injected him with the H/W623 serum. He's shown no resistance." Wesker pushed his son forward, who smiled shyly at William Birkin.

William Birkin gave him glance before his attention was again on Albert Wesker. "He looks like a failure. Why does he look the way he does? He looks like a fag."

Wesker hissed angrily and he realised Harry had chorused him; Birkin's eyes rolled back in his head and the man began to tremble.

Warning, we are currently under attack. Warning, we are currently under attack. All armed personnel to report to Albert Wesker. Warning, we are currently under attack. Unknown attacker; blond, male, twelve years old. Warning, massive psychological output detected.

Wesker watched in amusement as Harry, too, began to tremble, his eyes glowing beneath the sunglasses. He'd have to do a few tests, it seemed.

"This is Albert Wesker," he murmured, pressing a button on the control panel. "We are not currently under attack. I repeat, we are not currently under attack. It was a failed experiment." He released the button.

Harry seemed very hurt, blinking his eyes quickly. "I'm a failure?" he whimpered. Wesker wrapped his arms around his little boy.

"No, Harry, you're perfect. My associate, Mr. Birkin, here, helped me design the serum. We weren't expecting such changes in your physical appearance."

Harry nodded like a good little boy and Wesker pressed a loving kiss to the boy's head. "Now Harry, we're going to go into the underground labs - "

"Like the dungeons?" Harry asked excitedly. "Like with Professor Snape?"

Wesker smiled indulgently but shook his head. "We're going to test your new found abilities on some genetic mutations."

Harry's nose scrunched up. "Are they... people?" Harry bit his lip, peering up at his dad with those shocking eyes.

"No, Harry," Wesker lied. "They were bodies found when we moved to this base but they weren't exactly dead. They're like zombies, but we can't destroy them. We need you to try, okay? Will you do this for me?"

Harry nodded eagerly and Wesker spent the afternoon smirking like a cat who caught the canary when his son ripped through the re-animated corpses like they were nothing. His son was so perfect.

It'd been a year since Albert Wesker had rescued his son and he felt smug whenever someone caught Harry's strong gaze. Harry had filled out but he was lithe, stretched muscle that was rock solid. He stood at a possibly demure 5'9, with windswept blond hair and blazing emerald eyes. His attire was surprisingly different to Wesker's - Wesker preferred dark, tight clothing, while Harry was wearing a long, hooded gown that was dark blue. He had thickly soled boots as shoes, but they didn't weigh him down.

He was quick as a whip, striking in exactly the correct spots with a frightening certainty.

In the time passed, William Birkin had passed the G-virus onto his daughter, Sherry, and Wesker had sent Ada Wong to retrieve it. The woman had proved useful, returning with it although she was broken and bruised.

"Harry..." Wesker murmured, his bright-eyed son smiling brightly and leaping into his awaiting arms. Wesker had long burns across his face as well as a death threat from Chris Redfield tucked firmly under his belt. "I've missed you."

Wesker smelt of soot and smoke. Harry gave a deep inhale, rubbing his nose into the man's neck. The blond man would never admit it, but he loved it when Harry was like this. Harry was so primal and so different.

Wesker tapped the syringe that was filled with the Las Plagas and pumped it into the child's arm.

The little girl let out a loud screech before Harry placed a piece of flesh in her mouth to make her quieten down. Wesker gave the body, hidden under the table, another sharp kick, smiling menacingly at Lilium Black, the five year old daughter of Sirius Black and Jill Valentine.

The girl was cute, with pale skin and dark grey eyes, pixie-cut brown hair framing her face - but Albert so dearly detested her parents. The girl's body arched off the table, the man starting to sever the tendons in her arms, legs and fingers.

"Why?" she whimpered, looking at him with glazed eyes. "Why?"

Albert Wesker gave her a tiny smile in response. "Because you deserve it."

He submerged her in her babysitter's blood, placing her into a human-sized test tube.

"What will you do with her?" Harry whispered, his hands shaking.

"She is a warning, Harry." Wesker told him gently, pressing a chaste kiss to Harry's nose. "I will leave her for the world to find her."

LILIUM BLACK, FOUND DEAD IN MUGGLE LONDON

The five year old girl went missing on October 29th and was found, hanging by her entrails in front of Grimmauld Place.

Our thoughts go out to Sirius Black and his family; however, this reporter wonders if his Godson, Harry Potter, has shared the same fate.

Harry Potter went missing after his first year in Hogwarts, six short years ago. The case was closed as no leads were found, although Albus Dumbledore has his men on the look about, especially with the supposed revival of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

by Rita Skeeter

Harry was nineteen now and he was beautiful, Wesker admitted to himself. His hand dipped lower, into his trousers, allowing himself to let out a tiny stifled moan. Very beautiful.

The door slammed open behind him as he let the man drop.

"Stop there, Wesker!" Chris spat. Wesker slowly began to clap, turning around and throwing his glasses. Jill flinched and then she was being thrown about like a rag doll by a man in a blue hooded shirt.

Chris kept his eyes trained on Wesker, but he desperately wanted to see how Jill was fairing against the unknown assailant. Chris barely avoided the fist headed for his face and fired two bullets at the man in the hood.

Wesker cursed in frustration and slammed Chris into the wall. "You never knew when to give up, did you?" The man spat in Chris' face. "And now look at you. Pining after a woman like Jill? I'm surprised she let that mutt fuck her, let alone you, Redfield!" Wesker laughed harshly, throwing Chris further into the wall.

The sound of a crashing window caught his attention, his crimson eyes catching a smirking Jill Valentine. "Your partner - he ain't so - tough," she panted. "A few - choice words - "

Wesker smirked. Jill's words died in her throat as the shard of glass penetrated her stomach and Harry swung back in the room.

Chris let out a harsh, guttural noise and shoved Wesker's hand away, checking on his partner. Harry watched dispassionately as the man's angry blue gaze turned on him. "Who the fuck are you?"

Harry gave the man a cold smile, visible beneath the drooping hood. "Harrison Wesker."

Chris' eyes widened and Harry was extraordinarily pleased to note that tears welled up in those dark eyes. "Why - ? What?"

"You left me, uncle Chris," Harry whimpered, dropping to the floor and nuzzling into the man's body. "You left me, and now this happened. This is all your fault."

Wesker brought the gun down on Chris' head, knocking the man unconscious.

"Let's go, Harry."

"Okay, Albert," Harry beamed, wrapping his legs tightly around the man's waist and resting his head on the man's shoulder. "I'm tired, so..." What he was saying soon faded into little huffs of breath.

Wesker sighed and leaned back in his chair. He'd finally gotten Harry to stop calling him "Daddy" but that was as far as he'd gotten. He eyed the little candle on his desk, picking it up and placing it on his bedside table, lighting it. Soon, the lilac scent filled the air. Enough was enough.

"Harry," he murmured into his headset, stripping out of his clothing. "Could you come to me for a moment? I'm in the office."

Harry whispered an affirmative while Wesker worked on his trousers. He loosened the belt before looping it into a coil and slipping it into his bedside drawer, next to a bottle of lubricant and a box of condoms.

He heard Harry's soft footsteps and waited by the door, a syringe in his hands. "Albert?" Harry called in confusion.

"In here, Harry." Wesker called sweetly, his fingers itching - he shot out, injecting Harry with the clear fluid.

"Albert?" Harry muttered, swaying on his feet. His eyes were glazing over. "What was that?"

"Just a sleeping drug, Harry," Wesker lied again. "I know you've had some issues sleeping - "

Harry's mouth was on his, hot and probing. His hands were fumbling clumsily with his loose shirt and baggy sweat pants, Wesker ripping them off the other man (the realisation was quite a shock)with no care in the world.

They stumbled over to the bed, Wesker nipping and sucking and humming around Harry who was mewling like a kitten under his ministrations.

Wesker fumbled with the drawer and he scooped a liberal amount of lubricant onto his legs. Wesker gave a particularly hard suck while the first finger entered Harry's body.

Harry let out a sharp little whine and the second finger slipped in. Harry's green eyes were watching him in pure lust and Wesker smirked around the shaft in his mouth, bobbing down and humming around the base, his tongue teasing the vein pulsing on the underneath of the cock.

Harry whined louder and bucked his hips; Wesker removed his fingers and entered them again, scissoring and searching for that one little area... Got it. Harry let out a loud groan and a tiny little, "More!"

Wesker flicked the tip of Harry's cock with his tongue and added a third finger, twisting and pounding into the body beneath him.

His free hand went searching for the condoms and he picked one out triumphantly, before Harry was a mess of moaning and mewls, jelly in Wesker's hands.

Wesker allowed himself to feel, if only for a moment.

He felt ashamed. He'd effectively forced himself onto the boy he'd raised, injecting him full of aphrodisiac, touching him where Wesker shouldn't have touched.

His acute hearing picked up on Harry waking up, most likely in agony, and he high-tailed it out of there. He had Excella Gionne to greet, after all.

Harry stretched out and popped the bones in his back, not covering his yawn. He let out a tiny shriek when a blinding pain shot up his spine. He whimpered loudly. "Albert?"

The man didn't come. Harry ignored the feelings of betrayal and an overwhelming feeling of sadness, choosing to investigate the problem. He could already see hand prints on his hips, but he didn't know where they came from. He focussed on the visible marks and they soon faded, as well as the pain in his rear.

His hands shot to his head, letting out a loud groan. He flushed red in mortification when he realised what he and his father figure had done - he'd fucked the man he used to call daddy! He'd panted like a wanton whore while the man - He'd spent his birthday fucking the man he slept in the same bed as when he was five!

Harry picked up Wesker's trench coat and his own baggy trousers, scenting for the man. Left, right, down, up, down two flights of stairs - "I'm sorry," Harry stammered, blushing a brilliant shade of red from his neck to his roots. "I didn't mean to - I am so sorry, Albert, oh my God - "

Excella rose one fixed eyebrow, turning her attention back to Wesker - the blond man was the tiniest shades of pink. "It's fine, Harrison." Wesker murmured, taking Excella by the hand and leading her away. "We'll talk later, love."

Harry grinned in relief and bounded away, not caring about his bare chest being on display. There were no men here who cared, only Majini and workers who daren't look at him twice.

Chris gave Sheva a scrutinising look. "Can I trust you?"

Sheva gave him a confirming nod, the pair slamming open a heavy door with their guns held close. "I'm looking for my nephew," he admitted. "I believe the man we're looking for is working with Albert Wesker, who took my nephew when he was eleven."

"How long has it been?" Sheva asked kindly.

"He's twenty today." Chris murmured, his eyes downcast. "His dad has been looking for him, but there had been no luck. Then - then, we met at the Spencer estate. You've heard about that, right?" Sheva nodded. "Yeah. Wesker had taken his son from us, right beneath our noses - after he'd betrayed S.T.A.R.S. and I lied to cover his ass."

"It's his son," Sheva murmured awkwardly. "I mean - "

"Yeah." Chris agreed, but he shrugged one bulky shoulder. "But it's my nephew. He told me, once, no joke - 'You left me' and I did, you know. Didn't even bother searching for him."

Wesker gave Harry an appreciative look and sighed into his cup of black coffee while Harry's fingers worked magic on his shoulders. Excella injected him with the serum while Harry's fingers got rid of one particular tension. Excella gave Harry a dark look.

Harry smirked in dark amusement and leant down, pressing a kiss to the man's temple. "I'll go sort Irving out, Albert," Harry purred and spoke in low, dulcet tones. "If she touches you I'll fucking kill her."

Wesker snorted into his coffee and kissed Harry back on the cheek. "Thank you, lovely."

Harry nodded and left the room in a black blur, crashing through the window that separated him from Irving. Harry had undergone more changes - now he had a shock of white hair, combined with paper-white skin and milky silver eyes. His lips were a pale shade of red. (Wesker privately thought that none of the changes had nothing on how Harry had looked prior to the H/W623 serum, but there was nothing that could be done now)

He was still wearing Wesker's trench coat that ghosted along his ankles, but he'd paired it with a tight black shirt and tight black trousers, much like Wesker's own. He'd forgone his boots and instead chose to wear golden sandals that were tight on his feet, acting like a second skin. He'd decided not to cover his face, because Chris didn't know how he looked now.

Irving let out a foul little cackle when Harry catapulted them out of the window, but there was a strange tightness in Harry's throat as he stared back at the aged Chris Redfield.

"Is it - is it okay?" Harry murmured, looking shyly through his white eyelashes up at Wesker. "I mean... Doing that, it's normal right?"

Wesker nodded. "It's what people do to show they love each other."

Harry's milky eyes widened, making Wesker's stomach clench uncomfortably. Harry looked nothing how Wesker hoped he would at this age - he'd have to find out a way to change it. "You love me?"

Wesker almost felt guilty for playing with Harry's stunted emotions like this. Almost.

Wesker moaned into Harry's teasing kisses along his jaw but pushed the other man away. "We have work to do," Wesker spoke calmly, although his face dropped when Harry got to his knees and began to undo his zipper. "No - Harry, seriously," Wesker moaned loudly. "Work!"

Harry gave him a wicked look and flicked his tongue along the slit. Wesker groaned and his knees buckled, leaving the man to fall bonelessly onto his chair. Harry pulled back. "Then do work - I just have to help you from down here."

Wesker gave the man a most frustrated look and smoothed a hand through his hair, his hips bucking when Harry hummed around the head. Wesker began to type uselessly into his computer, writing commands. He heard Excella's sharp footsteps and cursed, especially when Harry took more of him into his mouth. Fuck. "Excella - She's coming - !"

"I bet I can have you coming quicker," Harry giggled and took the whole length into his mouth. True to his word, Wesker came moments before Excella walked into the room, his icy eyes promising agony for Harry later. "Looking forward to it." Harry whispered, zipping the man's boxers up and sitting under the cramped desk.

"Albert," Excella pursed her lips and began to pace. "Chris Redfield is causing many problems. He has already gone through Kijuju - he's on the way here, right now. I've left him with a new B.O.W, the man we assumed would bond with Uroboros. He hasn't, by the way - he's a writhing mass of tentacles. I am worried, Albert. I - "

Wesker watched her in impatience. Why had she faltered? "What have you done, Excella?"

"I told them - I told them the reasoning behind Uroboros," she admitted guiltily. "That it was going to be used for complete global domination."

Wesker hissed at her, much like an agitated snake. "Get out of my sight, Excella!"

The woman paled and fled; Wesker grabbed Harry's hair and slammed the boy down onto the floor. Harry let out a loud yelp that only seemed to anger Wesker more.

He kicked, punched, ripped and scratched but Harry never fought back. Once Wesker was done, Harry picked himself up and walked out. He bit his lip harshly before running, a loud sob leaving his lips.

Why had Wesker turned on him?

Harry leaned against the wall, clutching his newly broken arm, and began to cry like he was a little boy again. Why had he done that to him? What had Harry done?

He sobbed himself into a sleepy mess, drifting further and further down the wall till he was sleeping on his backside. He didn't care any more.

Wesker tutted and picked his lover up, bridal style, carrying him into the infirmary. He poured a small amount of a green/blue liquid into a syringe before tapping out the bubbles. He injected the restorative serum into Harry's arm, coupling it with the H/W629 serum he'd concocted. The restorative serum would return Harry to how he used to look, while the H/W629 would turn him into something akin to Wesker.

Harry's milky eyes snapped open instantly, his mouth opened in a silent scream. Wesker got a scalpel and began to lightly lift skin beneath Harry's collarbone, slipping a small black chip into the pouch and the skin healing back straight away.

"Christopher!" Wesker's voice was disgustingly smug as Excella ran past him, but she got into the elevator. "How kind of you to join us!"

Harry was still at the bottom of the stairs, his face obscured by a mask. It was a plain, white mask, with holes for eyes and two small holes to allow the wearer to breathe through their nose. He wore Wesker's trench coat still, but he wore a black turtle neck beneath the coat and tight, leather trousers. He had a belt swung low on his hips, ammo and grenades kept in the pouches. His gun was strapped to his arm, a machine gun proudly on display on his back. His shot gun was kept hidden in Wesker's bulky coat.

"Where is he, Wesker?" Chris asked impatiently; the white mask the other man wore set him on edge. "Where is Harry?"

"Christopher..." Wesker murmured in mock sadness. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Cut the shit, Wesker!" Chris spat, stepping forward needlessly. "Where is he?!"

"I thought you'd be happier to see us, Christopher." Wesker sighed, stepping closer to Harry.

Us? Christopher wanted to ask incredulously - Us meaning...

Wesker's lips curved into a mocking smile as he removed the mask from the other man's face, revealing plump red lips and dull crimson eyes. Harry gazed back at Chris and his heart was pounding so heavily in his chest. Harry looked so similar to Wesker in that moment.

Wesker smirked cruelly and pulled Harry closer, one hand resting on his hip while the other pulled his face up for a bruising kiss. Harry let out a tiny moan and stretched onto his tip-toes. Wesker pulled away as Chris let out an angry shout and a thin stream of spit connected the pair. Chris howled in rage and began to fire, forcing Harry to leap with Wesker. Wesker let out a sharp laugh and kissed Harry again and again, until Harry mewled for extra attention, clearly straining against his tight trousers.

"I'll take Wesker," Chris snarled. "Do not harm Harry, Sheva! You are only to subdue!" Sheva gave a grunt in response and began to trail the duo.

Wesker danced Chris around until Chris finally reached the room with the tomb. Chris paused to catch a breath when Harry appeared in front of him, his eyes wide and furious.

"Do you have any idea what you have caused, uncle Chris?" Harry spat, sounding like the child Chris once knew, who got angry whenever Chris mussed his hair or stole one of his sandwiches. "You should have just left it..."

Chris shook his head with a tiny smile. "I left you once, remember? That time, at the store? I've spent so, so long trying to find you... I love you, Harry. I should have never left you."

Harry dropped Chris, breaking down into frustrated sobs. Wesker paused in the doorway; how did Harry truly feel?

"You are a fool, uncle!" Harry whispered angrily, wiping away the tears. "You should have just left it... Surely Lilium was enough of an incentive? I helped, you know - I held her as she cried and screamed for you, uncle Chris, and I ripped her fucking intestines out!" Harry roared. "I did it so you would back the fuck off!"

Chris continued to shake his head, even though Harry's confession had him feeling sick. "Harry, I know you don't mean it - Wesker, he did something to you."

Harry slammed him up against the wall, again and again, until Chris' blood was splattered up the wall - the man didn't stop smiling. Harry yelled again and threw the man away, leaping onto him quicker than Wesker could blink. Harry brought his foot into Chris' side and sent him sprawling out, tripping Sheva in the process. The virus pounded in his head kill kill kill destroy hurt him hurt her kill them do it do it do it

"Why would he do something to me, mm?" Harry asked, his voice void of emotion. One wrong word and Chris would be dead.

"Because - "

"I was his son, Christopher; in fact, I was more of a child he raised and then fucked." Harry spat and Wesker's stomach clenched again. "But you know what, Christopher?" Harry purred and Chris' eyes widened. This wasn't the boy he knew.

"I begged and spread my legs for him, because when Lucius Malfoy called me a whore, when Quirrel called me a whore, I'd spread my legs for them, too, so surely me fucking him musn't mean a damn thing! You didn't care then so why the fuck do you care now?! When I told you Draco'd called me a whore - what did Sirius say, huh? Just ignore him, Harry and Stop lying Harry then, when his father called me a whore too, what did you do? Nothing. What did Albert do? He killed them. He held me, as I cried and screamed for them to fucking stop, but you never saw that, did you? You couldn't be bothered to find me, you couldn't be bothered to protect me!"

Chris felt like the worst person on Earth; he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He had been so blind and Wesker had twisted Harry against them.

Wesker placed his hands around Harry's waist and watched Chris with dim eyes and then Chris realised - Wesker truly loved Harry, from the bottom of the oceans to the sky. Wesker had succeeded where Chris had failed - Wesker had cared, which was more than Chris did.

Excella dropped the case with an almost pointed look before she ran. Sheva picked one of the serums and slipped it into her pack, before handing one to Chris. "I think, if we overdose him on it... It would mess him up a little?" Sheva suggested quietly.

"The documents said that a double dose would affect his vision and co-ordination," Chris said numbly. "We could destroy him if we manage to get one into him."

Harry gave a tiny little moan as Wesker's tongue trailed along his neck. "You're so beautiful, Harry," Wesker murmured. "I think I lo - "

"Shut up." Harry hissed and pushed the man down on the floor, grinding and thrusting his own erection against the other man's. Wesker groaned loudly as Harry roughly tweaked and rubbed the bud through the constricting clothing.

"I'm sorry, Excella - it appears Uroboros has rejected you." Wesker beamed happily at the woman.

Excella felt the tell-tale sting of tears in her eyes and she groaned, clutching her stomach in agony. Wesker was a freak.

"Christopher Redfield!" her voice, weakened but still going strong, rang out through the ship. "Harry - There is no point! Harry has sold his soul to the devil - I am sorry..." Her voice trailed off as the virus consumed her.

Harry watched impassively, his crimson eyes glinting as Sheva fired fire round after fire round at the writhing mass of tentacles.

Wesker had his arms wrapped firmly around his love as he led him away from the fight. "It's better this way," Wesker whispered. "I will be a God with you at my side."

Harry wanted to have two little girls, once upon a time. Now he never could. He wanted a white wedding with red roses, once upon a time. He probably never could. He'd wanted Lily and James Potter back, once upon a December. Then Christmas passed and there was still only Wesker and Sirius Black and a dull ache he would never fill. Harry also wanted to die, once, when Quirrel emptied himself all over Harry's clean hair. Harry was convinced Wesker would never let that happen.

Harry wanted a lot of things, and now a lot of them he couldn't have. Did he regret it? He regretted the loss of the green eyed, black haired little girls he'd have, one called Rose and the other called Lily or Poppy, and he regretted staying alive, really. Why was he alive, when the man he loved was going to kill everyone else in the world?

And therein lay Harry's next issue. Did he love Wesker?

Yes, he did.

He loved him so much that it was physically painful to think of leaving him behind and going with Chris.

But.

Did Wesker love him?

No, Harry truly didn't think he did.

Harry didn't think Wesker knew what love was, how it felt but how did it feel? Was it the feeling of right in his gut? The clenching of his toes against the man's legs? The way Harry curled so rightly into the other man's chest? The way they fit like a jigsaw - a demented, sickening jigsaw, but a jigsaw all the same?

Or was it the feeling of agony that affected every emotion he felt? The feeling of guilt, of anguish at killing Lilium Black, who could have easily be Lily Wesker or Rosemary Wesker or maybe Poppy Wesker?

Did Wesker know how much it hurt Harry to see that little girl die? How much it hurt to disembowel her and leave her to hang, directly outside of Sirius' house? To hold that girl while she smiled, through her agony, at Harry's tales? Tales of pranks and the Marauder's and flying teacups and turning goblets into rats?

Did Wesker know how he'd tried to kill himself after that, too?

But then...

Harry didn't know if Wesker was mentally sound, much like Harry himself. Harry wasn't stupid. He had the basic knowledge of an eleven year old, along with stunted social skills and oh Gods, little Hermione Granger. His best friend. How must she feel?

"Is that okay, Harry?" Harry snapped back to attention and nodded dutifully, much like the lover to a God should. Harry pressed a kiss to the man's jaw and looked the floor again, wishing he had his own Rose or Poppy and Lily Wesker. He could never have them. "What are you thinking about, love?"

"Children," Harry spoke hoarsely, coughing to clear his throat. "When I was younger, I wanted to have two little girls."

Wesker smiled indulgently, yet again. "You amuse me so, Harry."

Harry said nothing more on the matter.

Harry got into the plane, while Wesker waited for another chance to make Chris fail.

Wesker was his DNA. Wesker was the air he breathed, the food he ate, the water he drank. Wesker...

Wesker was his everything.

So why did it hurt so much? Why was the sting of betrayal hurting so bad? Wesker was his life

Why?

Why?

Why?

why?

why?

whywhywhywhywhywhywhy

Harry let out a tiny whimper, clutching at his throat. He wouldn't let anyone feel his pain, because nobody would want to feel this. The feeling of devotion of arousal and lust - the feeling of disgust, of depression and pure, absolute mental sickness. Nobody needed to know that he himself was twisted beyond repair, like a piece of metal holding a building up during a hurricane - too much pressure and the metal would wither and writhe and crack and snap until all that remained was a lump of useless metal.

There was a loud cry and Harry was up off the floor. Wesker was trying to stop Chris from getting to the lever - so Harry took his knife and slit Sheva's throat, twisting and ripping until her head landed onto Chris' chest, her spine hanging uselessly in the air.

chris saw and his eyes widened in horror but harry was so past caring now there was no point because nobody felt the same as him so why not kill them all and hurt them and destroy and killkillkillkillkillkillhefa iledyouharrybutineverwillilo veyouiloveyouiloveyoustopith arrythisisyourunclenono

Pain.

Pain was all Harry knew as the trio plummeted into the volcano, although he lost Wesker's trench coat on the way. Pity.

And then he felt...

Free. Free as a bird throughout the free fall, although he cursed gravity as he slammed roughly into the ground. Wesker gave him a look of approval and Harry rather felt that in that moment he could die happy.

"Harry?" Chris stammered. "Why? He's killed countless of people, children..."

Harry shrugged. It wasn't his concern. Not any more.

"What about Sirius and Jill?" Chris carried on, his voice teetering on hysteria as Wesker got closer and closer and his damned Magnum was jammed, the revolver out like Chris wanted it to be. He scurried back and back, until he was on the edge of the rock.

There was a feeling in his stomach, urging him to save his uncle. Harry pursed his lips before murmuring, "Stop."

Wesker stopped and turned. Harry stood up on uncertain legs and bit on his own tongue; his blood was filling his mouth as he pressed his lips onto Chris'. Chris let out a startled curse as the dark haired boy entered the older man's mouth and his fingers began rubbing at his throat. Chris reflexively swallowed Harry's blood.

Chris felt... cold. Ice cold. It spread out along his body, until Uroboros hit his heart and Chris began to scream and writhe. Harry whispered tiny, soft words into his ear until there was a blissful darkness awaiting him.

"Why did you do that?" Wesker's voice trembled in rage. Harry turned his wide eyes onto Wesker and his lower lip began to tremble. Wesker sneered before he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I've spent years trying to dispose of him so of course he goes and infects him, of course!"

Harry smiled cheekily, picked Chris up on his back and gave the man a curious look. "I don't know where we go from now, Harry," Wesker confessed. "But..."

Wesker got his knife from his pocket and burst the Uroboros container, the virus spreading into the wind.

All around the world, people began to scream and cry as Uroboros took over their bodies, but Harry didn't care. He had his papa and Chris and even though he couldn't have his auntie Jill, who screamed so prettily as Uroboros rejected her, like most others, or his Godfather, Sirius, who killed himself once he'd seen his pretty white eyes, what did it matter? Wesker, his DNA, his other piece in the puzzle, was there. A constant presence of cool serenity and lust, who was there for Harry when no one else was.

And as for Hermione Granger? Voldemort rather liked her as a footstool, until Harry found out.

Harry typed, "Granger, Hermione" into the mainframe and the pointer paused at where Hogwarts should be. Harry smirked coldly, picking up his .500 S&W Magnum and holstering it on his right arm. He picked up his Px4 and holstered it in his leg. He eyed his Hydra and strapped it to his back, making sure he had easy reach-around access.

Wesker watched him in amusement, his Samurai Edge tucked into his leg holster, a SIG 556 on his back, and an MP5A5 swung on his shoulder. Chris was bored, so he wasn't really paying attention, but he had his own .500 S&W Magnum in his hands, a VZ61 on his back and his Gatling gun held in his other hand.

Wesker was packing the ammo, Chris the grenades and Harry was packing the magical prowess.

The way there was silent and on virus-enhanced foot, Lickers trailing behind dutifully, before Chris tripped and alerted the magical wards. The man let out a loud "FUCK!" and leapt forward, mowing down tonnes of black-robed figures with his Gatling gun. He was dodging, spinning, twisting to avoid the jets of light while the Lickers went and took out half of the opposition.

When the forces had dropped, Wesker got his MP5 and managed to blow quite a few heads off, while Harry used his Px4 to scope out any remaining men.

They entered the halls and Chris barely stopped himself from retching. Heads upon heads lined the walls; he'd spotted Albus Dumbledore's head hanging over the Entrance Hall and he spotted the young Ron Weasley, kept in a permanent lip-lock with a crudely removed anus.

Harry concealed his weapons and zipped his trench coat up, although he still had access to his Hydra. He strode into the Great Hall with a bright, beaming smile, ripping someone's head from their neck as he went.

"You have someone I want, Voldemort," Harry grinned happily. "I'll leave you alone if you give her to me."

The snake lord gave him a look. "Who?"

"Hermione Granger," Harry's crimson eyes met the curious, childlike eyes of the broken Hermione. "I want her."

Voldemort sneered in response. "She's a good and well-used fuck, I will not give her up."

Harry sighed in mock disappointment, before he pulled his Hydra and shot several people in the head while he span and swooped and swirled through the air, until his Magnum was pressed against Voldemort's temple.

The chains in the room rattled and Harry's dark eyes flashed. "I don't think you understand, mate. I want her."

Harry snapped her chain and rammed the handle of his gun down onto her head, knocking her out. He picked her up in his arms and strode out - he ducked, and then there was pure massacre.