A Push in the Right Direction – Chapter 12 – emersli1!

Reading Time:
9 Minutes

The little boys were both fascinated by the cow.  Mirabelle, for her part, accepted their adoration as her due, allowing their gentle little pats.  She ignored whatever nonsense they were saying as they ‘mooo’ed’ at her.  Humans never did get the accent right anyway.

The chickens were less tolerant, running away from the stumbling toddlers, and shrieking at them quite profanely.  Until Ambrose filled each little hand with chicken feed.  The boys had an … unusual technique, pelting the hens with the feed rather than throwing it in front of them, but food was food and the hens were hungry.

Once they returned to the warm house and shed their layers of outer wear, the little boys were ready to sit quietly and listen, following along as Corvus read them a story … all about a little boy growing up on a farm.  He led them through their speech exercises while Avi prepared a light lunch, and then two tired out toddlers collapsed into their cot for a well-earned nap.

The two men then got down to planning how to adapt the potion and ritual for the blood adoptions they would perform at sunset.

Thaddeus and Matthias offered different challenges.

For Thaddeus, Corvus could either replace one of his parents or join them as a third parent.  He really didn’t want to erase James or Lily, but the whole point was to protect the child who had been Harry.  Cutting him off from the Potter heritage might cost him financially, and would deny him his Wizangamot seat.  But in the long run … he would never truly be safe so long as he was identifiable as the Potter heir.

And James himself had asked Corvus to blood adopt his son.

Matthias on the other hand…

Corvus wouldn’t mind replacing Petunia or Vernon, but he couldn’t replace them both.  He didn’t care that Matthias was a muggle, but he wasn’t sure what effect taking on a magical parent might have on the little boy.

And what to do about the other parent?

“We’ll have to leave the matter up to the Lady.”  Ambrose ap Gaiar looked at his son.  “It may be a hard thing for ye to accept Corvus, but sometimes we canna control all outcomes.  Whether in potions, healing, or just life … sometimes we simply have to trust.  I know that’s hard for ye…”

Something in Corvus ached, and resisted having to leave one of his precious sons in the hands of another.  But his father was right.  “All right.  We’ll just add me to the potion, and see what the Lady makes of it.”

“That’s the spirit!  Are the lads ready, d’ye think?  We could wait …”

“No!  I don’t know why, but I know it’s important to get it done before the 31st.  I just feel …”  Corvus couldn’t explain.  He just knew something was hunting his boys.  If they weren’t hidden by the end of October ….

“As you say, then.  Tonight.”  The older man smiled reassuringly at the younger.  “All will be well Corvus.”

“Tonight.  And then we shall see.”

The two little boys were curious, looking around wide-eyed as they were shepherded down the steps towards the ritual space.  Both of them got the giggles when their papa and their avi both sat down on the steps and took off their shoes and socks, eagerly following suit.

“Now boys, Thaddeus is going to go first so Matthias you’ll have to be my very good boy and stay right here on the steps until it’s your turn.  Thaddeus, when it’s Matthias’ turn you’ll have to stay on the steps.  Understand?”  Getting solemn nods from both boys, Corvus continued.

“We’re going to go down the steps to our family altar.  You’ll drink a nice-tasting potion, and then you’ll give three drops of blood to the altar.  It won’t hurt, I promise.  Then we’ll see what happens.  It will all be good, whatever it is.  Our Lady won’t let anything hurt you here.”  Quinn felt that was safe enough to promise.  He didn’t know how the night would end, but he knew his boys were in no physical danger.

“All right Matty.  Ye and I’ll just wait here while Papa and Thad go and get him sorted.  Then it’ll be yer turn.”  Ambrose wasn’t going to trust to a two-year-old’s self-restraint to keep the lad on the stairs.  He’d just keep him company and make sure of things, so that Corvus could take care of the ritual itself.

“Come on then Thaddeus.  Let’s go.”  Corvus held out his hand for his son.

“Le’s go!”  The little boy eagerly grabbed onto his papa and began toddling determinedly toward the altar.

Corvus helped the little boy kneel before the family altar and began the ritual, first adding five drops of his blood to the potion in the goblet he carried.  “Great Lady, may our purpose here be pleasing to you.  Bless our endeavor, and grant us to always walk in your paths.”  The merry little wind was back, teasing around the edges of the room.

“May the Family Magick find my son, Thaddeus Ambrose Quinn, worthy, that he may in turn strengthen the Family Magick.”  Tipping the goblet up, Corvus encouraged his son to drink.

Thaddeus swallowed the potion, wrinkling his nose a bit in confusion at the different tastes chasing each other through his mouth.  Corvus took the small silver knife and gently nicked the little boy’s thumb, allowing three drops of blood to fall on the altar.

The floor beneath them bloomed out in welcome of another son to the Balfour Family Magick, and above the altar two shadowy figures came into sight.  James and Lily Potter smiled down on their son, and the friend who had saved him.

“Severus, thank you.  You made the right decision, and have done all I could have asked for my son.  He will always be my son, but that doesn’t mean he has to be a Potter.  I happily leave him in your hands and care, and am pleased for you to be his father.”  James spoke as sincerely as he could, wanting to make sure his son didn’t feel rejected and his friend (and wasn’t that a shock) knew he had his support.

Lily smiled to see her son kneeling beside her friend.  “I am glad you see  him as a gift, and not just another burden to bear.  Thank you my dearest of dear friends.  Be a good boy for your papa, Thaddeus, gift of God.  We’ll see you by and by.”

“Me be goo’ boy, Mummy.  Red?”  Thaddeus looked hopefully up at his mother.

The two family spirits spun away, and a familiar warmth filled the ritual space.  Corvus knew it was time to close the ritual.

“I name you my son, Thaddeus Ambrose Jameson Quinn.  May you always walk in the ways of our Lady Cerridwen, seeking her guidance in times of struggle..  As I will, so mote it be.”

Thaddeus wouldn’t have to offer his response until he was older, but being the precocious child he was, he spoke up anyway.  “I Thaddus Ambos Ja’son Quinn.  I be goo’ boy!”  

Corvus waited to see what might happen, and relaxed when a small flower bloomed on the stump, over by the grotto.  Indian Paintbrush, a flower representing passion, creativity, and courage to forge new paths.

Helping Thaddeus to his feet, Corvus led  his son back over to the stairs where his avi was waiting.  Trading the empty goblet for a full one and one wiggly little boy for another, he made his way back to the altar with Matthias.

Now Matthias had watched carefully as his brother went through the ritual, and he was afraid.  ‘Mummy” wasn’t a comfort to him, and The Man was worse.  Shadowy figures still haunted his sleep, and he didn’t want them coming here.  “No Papa.”

Corvus stopped immediately.  “No?”  For just a moment, the inexperienced father thought to insist.  But then he remembered growing up with Tobias Snape, and how often he had just wished someone would listen to him.  Matthias was very young, and his speech was still difficult to understand, but he never wanted one of his sons to feel about him the way he felt about Tobias.

“Can you tell Papa why?”  Corvus devoted himself to listening carefully.

“Bad.  No wan’ bad.”  The little boy pointed to the spot above the altar where James and Lily Potter had hovered.

Corvus felt his heart break.  He had hoped his boy was young enough to forget his horrible neglect, but it seemed that was not to be.  “Oh Matty, no.  They won’t come.  This is a safe space, here with Papa and Avi and Thad.  No bad will come in, I promise.”

Matthias thought carefully.  It had been bad and scary, but then Papa came.  Papa gave him gentle pats and told him he was his good boy.  Papa gave him Thad and Avi and Mir’belle.  Papa said he wouldn’t let the bad come in.  “OK Papa.  Me do.”

Corvus wasn’t sure what reception the Family Magick would give a muggle child, but he knew at the worst it would only be indifference.  Nothing would hurt the child.  Nothing should scare him.  Putting five drops of blood in the goblet, he began.

“Great Lady, may our purpose here be pleasing to you.  Bless our endeavor, and grant us to always walk in your paths.”

Everything was still, as though the room itself was holding its breath, wondering what to make of the child kneeling there.

“May the Family Magick find my son, Matthias Madoc Quinn, worthy, that he may in turn strengthen the Family Magick.”  Tipping the goblet up, Corvus helped his son to drink.

Matthias had trouble getting the potion down.  Repeated vomiting had left him with a hyperactive gag reflex, and swallowing was often a struggle for the boy.  But Corvus was patient, only giving him a little at a time, and eventually the goblet was empty.

Taking his son’s hand gently, Corvus pressed the small ritual knife against his thumb and allowed three drops of blood to fall onto the altar.  Then he waited to see what would happen.

Suddenly, blooming plants shot forth out of the ground in abundance, their vast array of colors making a colorful patchwork on the floor.  Ivy sprouted beneath the little boy, winding up his feet and legs.  Corvus had a brief moment of fear, until Matthias began to giggle.  “Tickles!”

A figure began to form above the altar, and Matthias stilled and held his papa’s hand as tight as he could.  But the Lady who appeared was not ‘Mummy’.  She had beautiful golden hair and carried an armful of grain.  She was smiling at him, and suddenly over her shoulder … “Ho’sey!”

“The Balfour Family Magick rejoices to have found a true son.  My sister will just have to share.”

Corvus bowed low before the Goddess.  “My Lady Epona.”

“You have done well, son of Arawn.  As you have chosen to stand as Father, I shall be Mother to this child.  Matthias Madoc Pryderi Quinn.”  The Lady took a stalk of grain from her sheaf, wound one of her own hairs around it, and dropped it gently onto the excited little boy’s head.  She vanished slowly, still smiling at her new son.

Corvus took a shaky breath and completed the ritual.  “I name you my son, Matthias Madoc Pryderi Quinn.  May you always walk in the ways of our Lady Cerridwen, and your Lady Epona, seeking their guidance in times of struggle.   As I will, so mote it be.”

Most of the flowers vanished away, but white heather raced across the floor and flowed up onto the stump, eventually settling in a small area near the grotto with its little pool of renewing water.

Matthias reached out and patted the stump gently.  “Tank ‘oo.  I be goo’ boy too.”

Corvus helped the little boy to his feet and slowly the two made their way back to the stairs where Ambrose and Thad were waiting, the latter almost asleep on the former’s shoulder.  “Time for bed, I think.”

Walking carefully up the stairs, each carrying a sleepy child, the two men thanked the Lady for watching over their sons.  For bringing them to a place of safety.

For bringing them home.