Chapter 4: The Inheritance of the Peverell Legacy
Chapter Three: The Inheritance of the Peverell Legacy
The streets of Diagon Alley were bustling as always, filled with witches and wizards going about their daily business. But Hadrian, Sirius, and Hedwig were headed to a place much deeper, much older than the surface level of the wizarding world. Gringotts Wizarding Bank loomed ahead of them, its towering white walls shining ominously in the daylight.
Hadrian, now seven years old, walked with a sense of quiet determination, though his mismatched eyes—one electric blue, the other emerald green—still darted nervously. This wasn't a simple trip to the bank. This was about discovering his true heritage, a part of himself he had only recently begun to explore.
At his side, Sirius Black walked with an easy, relaxed gait, though his eyes betrayed a bit of anticipation. Hedwig, Hadrian's oversized phoenix-thunderbird familiar, flapped above them with a look of casual disinterest. That, however, was a lie. Hedwig was never disinterested, only waiting for the perfect moment to stir some chaos.
"So, remind me again why we're trusting the goblins with this?" Hedwig squawked from above, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, it's not like they've been holding out on you for seven years or anything. Just saying."
Sirius smirked at the bird, shaking his head. "Always a ray of sunshine, aren't you, Hedwig?"
The bird tilted her head. "Oh, come on, you like it. Who else here has the guts to speak the truth? I mean, you're basically bringing the kid to the place where they hide all the dirty secrets."
Hadrian sighed. "She's not wrong, Sirius. What if there's more they haven't told us?"
Sirius placed a reassuring hand on his godson's shoulder. "If there is, we'll deal with it. Besides, I'm here, and so is this… fiery menace," he nodded at Hedwig. "We'll make sure you're safe, whatever happens."
Inside Gringotts
They entered the towering doors of Gringotts, greeted immediately by the cold, calculating gazes of the goblins behind the counters. It always amazed Hadrian how efficient they seemed, even as they processed complex financial matters for wizards who had no idea what was really going on behind the scenes.
One goblin, taller and slightly older-looking than the others, came forward and bowed curtly. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black," the goblin said, his tone formal but with an air of superiority. "I understand you've come for an inheritance test. Please, follow me."
Hedwig, not one to be ignored, flapped down and landed on Hadrian's shoulder, her feathers sending faint sparks of lightning into the air. "No one ever acknowledges me. It's like they're afraid of a flaming bird or something. Rude, really."
Sirius stifled a laugh. "Maybe they just don't know what to do with a fire hazard like you, Hedwig."
The goblin guide glanced at Hedwig with mild disdain but didn't comment, leading the trio down a long, narrow corridor toward a chamber deeper in the bank.
The Inheritance Chamber
The room they entered was cold and sterile, with a single stone pedestal in the center, where a ceremonial dagger rested. The air hummed with ancient magic, and the walls were adorned with runes that glowed faintly, giving the room an ethereal quality.
The goblin motioned to the dagger. "If you would, Mr. Potter—though I suspect we may be learning something else today."
Hadrian stepped forward, feeling the weight of what was about to happen. He took the dagger, pricked his finger, and let a single drop of blood fall onto the pedestal. Immediately, the runes on the walls flared brighter, and a scroll of parchment appeared out of thin air, floating before them.
The goblin took the scroll and unrolled it with a precise flick of his wrist. His sharp eyes scanned the contents, and his thin lips curled into a knowing smile.
"Just as I suspected," the goblin said. "You are not merely Hadrian Potter. By blood, you are the heir to the ancient and noble house of Peverell. Your true name is Hadrian Peverell, the last living descendant of Ignotus, Cadmus, and Antioch Peverell."
Hadrian blinked, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "Peverell? But that's—"
"The family tied to the Deathly Hallows," Sirius finished for him, his face a mixture of shock and awe. "Merlin's beard, Hadrian. You're not just a Potter. You're a Peverell. That's… ancient."
Hedwig, perched on Hadrian's shoulder, puffed up her chest. "See, I knew you were special. Well, more special than usual. Now you're officially old blood—ancient blood. Don't let it get to your head, though."
The goblin continued, his voice carrying more gravity now. "But there's more. Through the unification of the Peverell bloodlines—Potter, Black, and Slytherin—all these families will now be absorbed into the Peverell family. As Lord Peverell, you are entitled to all their properties, vaults, and titles. The Black, Slytherin, and Potter lines will merge under your command."
Sirius let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, that's one hell of an inheritance, kid. I guess this means the Black family is officially absorbed into the Peverells." He grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor. "And best of all, I don't have to take the Black Lordship. I've been dreading that for years."
Hadrian, still processing everything, frowned. "So… everything that belonged to the Black family is now mine? Even the title?"
The goblin nodded. "Indeed, Lord Peverell. The Black family's properties and titles are now part of the Peverell estate. You are the sole heir. And I daresay certain individuals will not be pleased to hear it."
Sirius let out a satisfied sigh, leaning back slightly as he grinned. The best part is that Lucius Malfoy's going to throw a fit when he realizes all his scheming for Draco to inherit the Black fortune just went up in smoke."
Hadrian couldn't suppress his own smile. "I'd love to see the look on his face."
Hedwig fluffed up her feathers and snarked, "Oh, trust me, it'll be priceless. But let's focus on not getting crushed under the weight of all this responsibility first, hmm?"
Journey to the Vault
With the revelation of his true name and the unification of the bloodlines, Hadrian was led further into the depths of Gringotts, toward the vault that had remained sealed for centuries.
The ride in the goblin-operated cart was bumpy and filled with more of Hedwig's colorful commentary, as she complained about the lack of proper seating and how it felt like they were riding a "death trap." Sirius could only laugh while Hadrian clung to the side of the cart, his excitement and nerves mixing together.
Finally, they arrived at the door of the Peverell family vault—a massive, ancient thing, etched with runes and lined with gold. The goblin gestured for Hadrian to step forward.
"Only your blood will open this vault, Lord Peverell. It has awaited your return for centuries."
Hadrian placed his hand on the door, and the moment his skin made contact, the runes on the door flared to life. The ground shook slightly as the vault creaked open, revealing a room filled with ancient treasures, gold, jewels, and artifacts of immense magical power.
But what caught Hadrian's eye wasn't the gold. Two objects lay prominently on a raised platform in the center of the vault: a ring and a grimoire.
The Peverell Lord's Ring and Grimoire
Hadrian approached the platform with a sense of reverence. The ring was dark and etched with ancient runes, and at its center was a gemstone that pulsed faintly with an eerie blue light. It felt as though the ring was alive, its magic ancient and powerful, waiting for its true heir to claim it.
But beside the ring was something equally significant—The Peverell Grimoire. A large, leather-bound tome with intricate designs etched into its cover, the grimoire seemed to hum with magic, as if it contained centuries of knowledge and power within its pages. Hadrian could almost feel the weight of the Peverell family's legacy pressing down on him.
"What's this?" Hadrian whispered, running a hand over the surface of the book.
"That is the Peverell Grimoire, Lord Peverell," the goblin continued, bowing slightly. "It contains the entire recorded history, spells, secrets, and magical knowledge of the Peverell family, passed down through the generations. Every Lord Peverell has contributed to its pages, including your ancestors, Ignotus, Cadmus, and Antioch Peverell. With it, you will have access to everything your family has ever known or created, including magic lost to time."
Hadrian's fingers hesitated over the cover of the book, the weight of his lineage feeling heavier than ever. He had been raised by Dante and trained by Sirius, but this was something entirely different. This was a legacy of ancient magic, of power, and knowledge that had been locked away for centuries.
Sirius stepped up beside him, glancing at the grimoire with wide eyes. "That… that's incredible. I've never seen anything like it. This is your birthright, Hadrian. You're not just a wizard, you're the last of an ancient bloodline. The Peverells weren't just any old family—they shaped the course of history."
Hadrian took a deep breath and nodded, finally lifting the Peverell Lord's Ring from its pedestal. As he slid it onto his finger, a surge of magic rippled through him, stronger than anything he had felt before. The ring seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat, binding him to the vault, the grimoire, and his family's legacy.
Hedwig, who had been silent for once, finally spoke up from her perch on his shoulder. "Well, well, well… Lord Peverell, huh? Looks like you're the big boss now, kid. Don't let it go to your head though, or I'll be here to roast you back to reality."
Hadrian couldn't help but chuckle, the tension in the air breaking for a moment. "Thanks, Hedwig. I can always count on you to keep me grounded."
The goblin, who had been watching the proceedings with a mix of formality and curiosity, nodded approvingly. "With the Lord's Ring, you are now officially recognized as Lord Hadrian Peverell. The vaults of the Potter, Black, and Slytherin families are now yours to command, as are all the wealth, property, and magical artifacts tied to those houses."
The Journey Back
The ride back to the surface of Gringotts was quieter, but there was a new sense of purpose in Hadrian's posture. He clutched the Peverell Grimoire in one hand, the ring on his finger glowing faintly, as they passed through the ancient stone corridors of the goblin bank. Hedwig had returned to her usual perch on his shoulder, though her fiery aura had dimmed slightly as if even she knew this was a moment of importance.
As they reached the lobby of Gringotts and stepped outside, Sirius clapped Hadrian on the back. "Well, Lord Peverell, what's the plan now? World domination?"
Hadrian shook his head with a small smile. "Not quite. There's a lot to figure out first. But I guess the first step is understanding exactly what I've inherited." He patted the grimoire under his arm, already feeling the weight of the knowledge within. "There's a lot I need to learn."
Sirius nodded in agreement. "That book will be your guide. Every secret, every spell, every bit of history your family has ever recorded is in there. It's going to be a lot, but we'll figure it out together."
"Oh, joy," Hedwig chirped sarcastically. "More homework. I can already tell this is going to be a riot."
Hadrian grinned despite the enormity of it all. He knew the road ahead was going to be tough, and there were still countless mysteries and dangers to uncover. But with Sirius, Hedwig, and the Devil May Cry crew by his side, he felt ready for whatever came next.
"Let's get home," Hadrian said, glancing at the bustling street of Diagon Alley, now filled with people who had no idea the power and history that had just been unlocked.
And with that, they left Gringotts, Hadrian's destiny as Lord Peverell set in motion.
Chapter 5: A Devil’s Training and Familiar Revenge
It had been three years since Hadrian first learned the truth about his heritage, and in that time, his life at Devil May Cry had taken on a distinct rhythm. Days were spent training and learning; nights, though quieter, were filled with plans and lessons, all in preparation for the dangerous life that awaited him.
Now at ten years old, Hadrian had grown accustomed to the fast-paced life of a devil hunter-in-training. His skills with a sword had increased dramatically, thanks to Dante's constant guidance, and Sirius's lessons in magic had added layers of complexity to his understanding of spells, potions, and the darker aspects of wizardry.
Hadrian wasn't just a devil hunter or a wizard. He was both.
A Morning at Devil May Cry
The sun had barely risen over the city, casting a golden hue through the windows of the Devil May Cry office. Hadrian stood in the main room, running a cloth over the barrel of the Desert Eagle he'd received from Lady as part of his weapons training. Dante had decided that mastering just one type of weapon wasn't enough—no, Hadrian needed to be proficient in all types: swords, knives, spears, and even the Devil Arms that Dante kept lying around in the weapons vault.
"You've got to be flexible, kid," Dante had said more than once. "In this line of work, you never know when your favorite weapon might get smashed to bits. Always good to have options."
Hadrian had taken that advice to heart. Over the years, he'd mastered wielding a blade, but he was also becoming adept at using various other weapons, from daggers to spears. Yet, despite all the weapons training, it was the lessons in potions that he found surprisingly satisfying.
Sirius had introduced him to potions when they'd hit a snag with his spellcasting. Since Hadrian didn't have a wand yet, Sirius had focused more on theory and wandless magic for subjects like transfiguration and charms. But when it came to potions, the lack of a wand didn't matter.
"You're a natural at potions, kid," Sirius had once said, watching him brew a flawless Pepperup Potion. "Just like your mother. She had a gift for potions—one of the best I ever knew."
Hadrian found peace in potion-making. There was something calming about the precision of mixing ingredients, waiting for just the right reaction to happen. And while his demonic heritage made magic come easier to him—he had already mastered Reparo, Accio, and Wingardium Leviosa wandless—potions were something he could control entirely. Each ingredient, each stir of the cauldron had a purpose.
Hedwig, perched on his shoulder, let out a low caw of boredom as Hadrian meticulously cleaned the barrel of his gun.
"You know, kid, I don't get why you spend so much time fussing over these weapons," Hedwig remarked, her eyes glowing faintly. "If you ask me, claws and flames get the job done faster."
Hadrian chuckled, setting the gun down. "Not everyone can be a walking inferno like you, Hedwig."
"Ah, well," she said, preening her wings, "You're learning. But keep in mind, when the time comes, fire and lightning will always trump bullets."
The Wandless Magic Mishap
Downstairs, Dante lounged on the worn-out couch, lazily flipping through a magazine with his feet kicked up on the table. He had a particular fondness for demonstrating his mastery of the Accio charm—mainly to summon beer bottles from across the room.
"Accio beer!" Dante called out, his hand outstretched.
A bottle of beer flew across the room and landed perfectly in his grasp, much to Hadrian's annoyance.
"You're supposed to use that spell for important things, you know," Hadrian remarked, watching from the top of the stairs. "Like summoning a weapon in the middle of a fight, not for grabbing your drink."
Dante took a swig and winked. "Kid, when you've been doing this as long as I have, beer is a weapon. Besides, it's good practice. Every spell should be useful, don't you think?"
Hadrian rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, there was a sharp crash as another bottle of beer hurtled across the room, missing Dante's hand entirely. It flew straight into Hedwig, drenching the bird in beer and sending her feathers into a furious fluff.
Hadrian froze, wide-eyed, as Hedwig gave Dante a look that could only be described as murderous. Her feathers crackled with electricity as she slowly turned her gaze toward the offending bottle. Dante, however, merely grinned, thoroughly amused.
"Whoops," Dante said, unfazed by the thunderous stare of the bird. "Guess my aim was a little off."
Hedwig didn't explode into flames as Hadrian had expected. Instead, she gave a low, ominous caw, her eyes glowing fiercely before she flashed back into her tattoo form on Hadrian's arm.
"Vengeance will be mine," Hadrian heard her whisper through their bond.
The Revenge of Hedwig
The next day, Hadrian had nearly forgotten about Hedwig's cryptic words—until Dante, looking smug and carefree as usual, headed out to grab his favorite treat: a strawberry sundae from the shop down the street. He left the shop whistling, clearly unaware of what was to come.
Hadrian, meanwhile, busied himself with maintaining the Desert Eagle. Twenty minutes passed in relative peace before Hedwig materialized next to him, perched proudly on the stand.
Hadrian raised an eyebrow at her. "Alright, Hedwig, what did you do?"
"Who, me?" Hedwig replied, her tone dripping with innocence. "I didn't do anything."
Before Hadrian could press her for more details, the doors to Devil May Cry slammed open with a loud bang. Dante stomped in, looking like he had been through a storm—his clothes were drenched, his hair plastered to his face, and worst of all, he was covered in bird shit.
Hadrian bit back a laugh as Dante cast a filthy look at Hedwig, who perched herself higher and let out an uncharacteristically loud caw of laughter.
"What the hell, Hedwig?!" Dante snarled, shaking off his jacket. "You set the damn birds on me!"
Hedwig, still laughing, fluffed her wings and puffed out her chest. "Vengeance achieved," she declared proudly. "I convinced the local birds to give you a little… present in exchange for some bread crumbs. And then I may have summoned a few storm clouds to add some flair to the situation."
Hadrian couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst into laughter, wiping his eyes as Dante gave him a pointed look.
"And you're just gonna let her get away with this?" Dante demanded, gesturing wildly at his soaked clothes.
"Hey," Hadrian said between laughs, "you did kind of deserve it. Plus, she did warn you."
Dante muttered something under his breath about fiery birds and payback before storming upstairs to take a shower. As soon as the door shut, Hedwig's restrained laughter erupted into full hysterics.
"I warned him," she said, tears of mirth in her glowing eyes. "But did he listen? No. No one ever listens to the firebird until they're covered in bird shit."
Hadrian shook his head, still chuckling. "You really outdid yourself this time, Hedwig. Remind me never to get on your bad side."
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