Harry Potter and the Fanfic Family with Too Many Kids

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Isolde had to pee. She was two and a half years old and caught on to potty training quickly, so Dare let her go with recently-three-year-old Natalia and recent Hufflepuff Helle into the public restroom at the grocery store. Going home would have been better on countless levels, but asking a two year old to hold it for a walk home would just be condemning her to wet Big Girl panties. Dare sent the twins into the men's room with Kai and stood guard for whoever emerged first.

The woman who passed into the ladies' room hardly looked at him except to exchange brief nods and Dare turned to look at a nearby display of magazines. It was too bad about Cauldron. Penultimate Issue. Lyric wasn't taking it too well.

It was when the woman emerged, cloak off and wrapped around a suspiciously shaped bundle, that Dare's instincts kicked in. He pushed open the ladies' room door and peeked in only to see two blonde girls stunned on the tile floor.

"Stop her! That's my daughter!" His wand was out and he was running, but the aisles were narrow, the woman was small and quick, and when the cloak fell, revealing a mass of familiar black curls and pale cheeks, red lips and thick lashes, his heart stopped. He knocked over a tower of cans that crashed and rolled everywhere as the boys spilled out into the store, as customers turned to gawk at him rather than at the woman running for the doors with a stunned toddler in her arms. He was catching up with her, long legs eating the distance, but his wand was useless and as she reached the doors, the woman stopped, then spun on her heel and disappeared with a resounding crack!

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian had recognized Dare in an instant, and though he'd glared and avoided the family, he hadn't been able to ignore the little dark-haired toddler. On the night after the girl's birth, soft words had been said and whenever he saw the family out it was like his eyes were attracted to her, like a magnet or a pair of wands with twin cores. Maybe he would never know the girl, but they would always be connected.

Then she'd been gone, and he'd focused on the milk instead of the cute little girl. Why did they never have the type he wanted? Why did he always have to be the last one at the kiosk for the day, no matter what time it-

"Stop her! That's my daughter!"

The voice was instantly familiar, and it took only a heartbeat or two for him to realize what had happened. Would he have reacted so quickly had it not been Isolde? He would never know, but now, he had dropped his basket, sending produce and packaged noodles skidding across the store, darted after the woman, and grabbed her arm in the half-second before she disapparated.

[Brandis]

The woman's eyes widened, but it was too late. She only hoped they wouldn't be splinched. Then they were standing in a bit of wintery scrub, a bitter wind sweeping bits of snow from the ground that stung like sand. "Was machen Sie?" she demanded. What are you doing? "This is my granddaughter!" She hissed at him in German and jerked her arm away. "They stole her! She should be with family!" The woman's blue eyes were wild and panicked, and she held the toddler close. "Das geht dich nichts an!" This is none of your business!

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian was surprised at how easy it was to slip back into German, but he supposed having international contacts for his shop helped. He ignored pain in his leg that may have happened because of the surprise side-along, and reached for his wand with one hand while the other gripped the woman. "My arse she's your granddaughter," he snarled. "Even if she were, you don't have any rights to her. I really don't want to use my wand on you, but I will if I have to."

[Brandis]

"Wolf! Wolf, Hilf mir! She is mine!"

A man strode from the treeline, tall and blonde with cornflower blue eyes. A moment's visciousness melted from Brandis's face, and though he moved to step between the two, he made no move to atttack. "Mutter, nehmen Sie sie hinein," he said. Mother, take her inside. He switched smoothly to English, leather-gloved hands tucking away his own wand. "Herr Sota? It has been some time. Here, follow me, let us talk."

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian stepped back, continuing to ignore pain as he brought the woman with him. "Not happening," he said, following suit and using English. "You are not getting this girl." Apparating was tempting, but he knew that if the woman did not cooperate or if he did one wrong thing it could easily hurt Isolde. This could get very tricky very fast.

[Brandis]

"It is far below freezing, Mr. Sota," Brandis pointed out, "and we are standing a short distance from Schneewittchen. Don't risk the child's health simply to insult me. Let go of my mother or things will turn unpleasant very quickly." He glanced toward the trees, where others waited in the shadows. He had stopped them from immediately killing the man, but perhaps that had been a mistake.

[Emilian Sota]

"I go where Isolde goes," Emilian said. "She's not leaving my sight." If only apparating was more reliable...and by now something had probably already been done to keep him from leaving. "If necessary, we all stay together." And his wand was coming with him. At least if someone tried something, he could attempt to do some damage before he was gone.

[Brandis]

"Agreed. Now release my mother." Brandis didn't want to resort to violence. If there was anything left in this shell of a man who'd once been somebody, he'd prefer to reason with it. Brandis flicked his fingers from the treeline toward the castle and before long there was a group in the servants' quarters. It was a horrendous step down, but it was far better than homelessness and the staff still trusted and respected him.

Once inside a small room with a crackling fire, the woman sat with the child on her lap. At Brandis's instruction she removed the stunner and begam to hush the confused toddler. Emilian was allowed to sit beside them.

"Mr. Sota, I have no intentions of hurting Isolde." She looked up at her name, but the woman's cooing was distracting and slowly soothing her.

[Emilian Sota]

"You've ripped her away from her family, you've already hurt her," Emilian said, voice as tense as his muscles. One glance at the girl was enough for him; there were too many familiar traces in the small face. "You do realize that there is no way I will leave here without her. Those men are smart, they'll know who took her."

[Brandis]

Emilian was an angry, petulant child. Brandis didn't understand why he was so possessive over a child who, from all accounts, he'd never so much as looked at. Maybe it was some misplaced sense of romanticized guilt. Emilian certainly hadn't been this protective of Adara.

"Listen a moment," Brandis suggested, finally removing his gloves and shrugging out of his coat. "Just a moment, where nothing is changing either way. Think, Mr. Sota. What would you have for her? What would be the best you could think of for her? To be one forgotten in a group of many? To receive what attention is left over after two heirs are dealt with? Perhaps after an additional three foster children have been placated? Adara was never loud or demanding, so why should her child be?"

[Emilian Sota]

"She deserves what her mother wanted for her," Emilian said. He crossed his arms and, though he leaned back in the chair, none of the tension left his body. "Her parents dote on her just like they do those twins. They're running this place so that she can have it when she's of age. She's in a family of people who love her, and she's got all the freedoms in the world. Don't try to twist it around."

[Brandis]

"My apologies," Brandis said. "I hadn't realized you approved of that particular household." No, Emilian had gotten in shouting matches, been disowned, lost friends... Brandis pulled a quick breath. "Tell me," he said, "as someone you used to confide in, whose goals once perfectly matched your own, what it is you want out of life. The dream, Herr Sota. Not the reality. Would you change the past? Would you accept redemption if it was available? Or would you do Adara the disservice of loathing yourself for the rest of an unremarkable life? I am curious as to these changes, though your stubbornness remains firm." That last wasn't an insult. It had been that very stubbornness which had made their professional relationship... interesting.

[Emilian Sota]

A half-chuckle escaped Emilian's throat and he shook his head. His gaze found nowhere to rest. "I'm not here to talk about dreams." There weren't even any dreams anymore, any he'd had had been thoroughly ground into dust years before. It was pointless to fantasize about the life that could have been or of changing the past or what his life could be if some fates decided he deserved it after all. Part of his bravado melted and through his thoughts he forgot to speak.

[Brandis]

Brandis's expression remained smooth, but he felt a spark of intuition all the same. "Aside from the child, Herr Sota, I still have a bit of pull around here. You know what I want, it was made plain years ago. I want what I worked my life building. I was like a son to Herr Snow, and yet a servant beneath his notice. I know the duality of having potential for greatness and receiving nothing for a slip, for a moment's desperation."

Brandis moved closer to the fire, past his silent mother and the beautiful child asleep in her arms. He added some wood to the fire and stoked it with practiced ease. "I helped you, do you remmeber? Helped you circumvent the rules of my master, taught you to use his own games against him. In the end he could do nothing against you. He still can't, of course. I know you don't want the castle, you never did. But what did you want? What, besides marriage to a beautiful, perhaps worshipful wife? Things can be salvaged. You're young still." So they both were.