A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Harry Potter or Hannibal.

I have no beta.

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"As I recall quite clearly, your father disowned me and then had you throw me from the premises!" said Will, eyes alight with burning anger and hurt that had never truly gone away. "I was abandoned in the middle of winter with nothing but the clothes on my back."

Seriously, only being able to illegally Apparate and the barman of the Leaky Cauldron had saved him from dying during those few days.

Will could feel Hannibal's confusion at the conversation, but his annoyance was slowly rising. Whether it be on Will's behalf or because their time was cut short by someone Will obviously didn't like, he didn't know.

Waldo shifted, his discomfort visible even without Will's Empathy working in his favor. He kept the wand held to Abigail's throat, hand in her hair to keep her in place. Will wanted to snap that hand in half.

"Father was caught and thrown in prison for being faithful, but they found more evidence to convict him with. His lordship was stripped from him before he could name an heir and according to Gringotts, he never disowned you legally, meaning until you or I assume lordship, no one can get into the wards of the family manors."

And suddenly it all made perfect sense. Will's lips pulled into a dangerous smile and he fixed his former brother with his understanding look. "Your father broke the law by abandoning one of his heirs. He didn't even follow the legal channels and since I'm still the other Heir Apparent, you and I have to fight for the lordship rights. Meaning if I kill you, I will become Lord of the Macnairs! Oh, this is just precious!"

Waldo's grip on his wand tightened, eyes wide with his obvious panic. "Now we don't need to talk about death, one of us just has to beat the other in a duel until they can't fight any longer!"

"But it'll be me because the moment you become Lord, you'd disown me for real," Will pointed out.

"You're a blood traitor!"

"I am not, you moron! I'm an Empath, of course I'm not going to like the roiling emotions of children being tortured in my school! Also, I just don't care about people in general."

And Waldo was suddenly quiet, fear creeped into his emotions like a spider, digging its way in and staying. "Then you-"

"I was a perfectly innocent child that your father abandoned in the middle of winter. And who should take me in? Who was the one to save me? Why, the very man we were taught was our enemy. And he married the son of your Master, who also adopted me! And now look at where you are. You and your father brought this on yourselves. Don't expect any pity from me because you won't get any."

Merlin, Will loved rubbing their failures in their faces. It made him feel vindicated. To know that his former family had broken the law so severely and were now suffering because of it. They deserved every moment of pain. Every moment of suffering, being unable to access the family manors because the wards wouldn't let them in.

Children were supposed to be important in the wizarding world, but so often were they disowned for 'betraying the blood' or for being born without magic. Basically, you were only a 'precious gift' if you were Pureblooded and had magic. Will hated that kind of thinking. It disgusted him and made him feel ashamed about sharing his blood status with other people because there was nothing to be proud about.

"So, brother mine," sneered Will, "what will you do now?"

And Waldo stiffened in fear. He'd never been a good student. Wasn't really talented at magic either. In fact, Waldo had always been the pathetic one and Will had been the prodigy. Until Will's 'betrayal' that is. Waldo did not hold enough skill or power to kill Will and Will wondered why he even bothered coming after his former brother if he knew he'd most likely get killed in the process. This was like committing suicide, unless he believed all that rubbish about blood traitors being weaker and dumber.

"Abigail."

The young woman met his gaze resolutely. She didn't seem all that fearful and Will could understand why. She knew that physically, she had the upper hand against the man holding her hostage.

"Break his wand arm."

Reaching up before Waldo could even respond to the order, the young woman grasped his forearm and gave a rough twist. At the same time, Will threw up some Anti-Apparition wards and a silencing charm. Waldo's scream of pain went unheard by the rest of the people in the gallery.

"Accio wand!"

Waldo's fallen wand soared right into Will's outstretched hand.

"Well done," smiled the Wendigo, feeling Abigail's pleasure at having done well. She skipped on over to his and Hannibal's sides, keeping away from her crazed uncle who was sniveling over his wrecked arm.

"So, Waldo, do you know Italy's laws?"

The man barely paid him any attention, but Will wasn't offended. After all, it was what he had to say next that was important and if Waldo missed it, then it was no skin off his nose.

"The Dark Arts are legal in Italy and I am currently residing in Pisa. You won't be dying for a while, brother mine."

Will snapped his fingers and called, "Bella!"

The Head Elf appeared, startling both Abigail and Hannibal.

"What can Bella bes doing for Master William?" the Elf asked, her wide, blue eyes steady and inquisitive.

"Mr. Macnair will be joining us. Please give him the coldest and wettest cell in the dungeons. Feed him only water and bread, nothing more."

The Elf gave a bow and snapped her fingers, binding the fallen wizard and tsking at him. "Bella bes doing as Master commands. Naughty wizard offending the Master," she frowned, smacking Waldo upside the head.

The two disappeared with a loud pop, leaving the two Wendigos and their human behind.

"Will, what is going on?" Hannibal finally asked, disbelief and confusion all over him. His emotions were riled up and his face was actually unguarded. He also looked extremely old in that moment.

The two creatures shared a look and nodded. "Things have changed," Abigail said. "A lot."

"In our lives," amended Will. "We haven't changed all that much."

"She snapped his arm with a simple twist of her hand," said the blond blandly.

"Well, physically we've changed but emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and psychologically, we are still the same people you know."

"What… was that creature?"

"A House Elf," Abigail beamed. "They're very nice and know how to do anything! Of course they get angry when we try to cook our own food, but that's only because they claim it's their duty to take care of their masters and not the other way around. Will had to bargain with them in order to get anywhere."

Hannibal's gaze lowered to Waldo's wand, which was hanging light from Will's palm. "The wand? You called it a wand and it flew across the room and into your hand."

"Magic," said Will.

Hannibal looked between he and Abigail. Hs emotions ranged from disbelief to cold, hard acceptance. He didn't really want to believe it but Hannibal wasn't the type to dismiss something so obvious.

"Magic is real and you both can use it?"

Abigail winced and gave a shrug. "Will was the wizard, I just got lucky.

Will scoffed, remembering what had happened and feeling like luck had absolutely nothing to do with it. Because it didn't.

Out of nowhere, Hannibal dropped to the floor, his body ceasing all movement. Out of the back of his neck rested a red dart.

Abigail bent down to check on him as she murmured a curse. Will was able to see the dart that had approached her, but was unable to stop it from landing.

Cursing as well, he shoved both his wand and Waldo's wand into the barely conscious girl's palm. Something sharp hit his shoulder, but all it did was blur his vision some. Abigail was trying to move, but her movements were sluggish at best. Another dart struck her above the right shoulder, making her fall limp instantly.

Will pulled the Portkey from his pocket and shoved it into her free hand while yelling, "Belladonna!"

Abigail disappeared from view, the wands going with her.

Several more darts landed on his chest and Will winced as his body went numb. He couldn't feeling anything and his vision was dimming. He was falling and falling, but he couldn't feel the landing.

Harry and Tom paused in what they were doing, because the fireplace in their personal lounge was ringing nonstop.

Sighing, Harry got off the bed, slipping his dressing gown on in order to cover his nudity. Someone always managed to interrupt just when he and Tom were getting raunchy.

Kneeling in front of the fire, Harry tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the flames and watched as they turned from orange to green.

"Hello?"

"Master Harry?" came a squeaky voice.

It was the Head House Elf of the Pisa Manor.

"Hello, Bella. What's the matter?"

"Master Harry, it bes horrible! Mistress Abigail appeared in the front stoop but she's not bes moving! Magics won't work on her! And wes don't know where Master William bes at!"

Harry's former annoyance washed away, replaced with worry for his son. "She is alive though, right?"

"Odette bes saying her breathing is low. Wes do not know what to do, sir!"

"Bella, I need you to open the connection for me, okay. I'm coming through."

"Right away, Master Harry!"

Harry dashed back to the bedroom, casting a regretful glance Tom's way.

"Something happened to Abby, Will is nowhere to be found. Magic isn't working according to the Elves."

And just like that, Tom was also getting ready. While Harry fixed himself up, Tom summoned one of the Elves and asked them to watch the boys until they returned.

Once the two cleared the Floo, they found themselves standing in a familiar room, knowing they traveled all the way to Italy in only seconds. Interconnecting Floos between their homes was a smart idea.

Bella was already waiting for them, asking them to follow her to Abigail's chosen room. Abigail rested on the bed, looking perfectly healthy, but even in her strange sleep, her breathing was abnormally heavy.

"Wes found these sticking out of her back!" squeaked Odette, holding out two red darts.

"Tranquilizer darts?" murmured the younger wizard, confused. Wizards didn't know a thing about those and unless they were a muggleborn, would of course never use them when a good curse was better.

So either they were faced with a Muggleborn or a Muggle enemy. The possibility of it being one of either Abigail's, Will's, or Hannibal's enemies was much too high, leaving him with no answers and building frustration!

"And you cannot find Will?"

The Elves shook their heads. "His magic bes very quiet."

"Then he must be sleeping very deeply, meaning he was probably hit with the same weapons," Tom remarked, looking over one of the darts. "I will have to brew a potion to completely clean her system of foreign substances, but that could take nearly a whole day."

"Do it! I want to find my son!"

Bella stepped forward, her wide eyes teary, but her countenance firm. "If Masters would like to know, Master William called Bella to his side mere moments before Mistress Abigail appeared."

"What happened, Bella?"

"Master and Mistress were with a blond, Muggle man and Master's brother. Bella was told to bring the traitorous brother here and place him in the worst dungeon cell until Master returns to deal with him. Master and Mistress had gone to Florence to see the arts today."

Harry and Tom shared a look. Harry turned back to Bella and asked, "Did the blond man with Will and Abby, have sharp cheekbones?"

The Elf nodded.

"So Il Mostro returned to Florence and Will and Abby met up with him. But for some reason, I don't think he was the cause of this. How would one Muggle manage to transport two unconscious bodies on his own, without raising alarms or at least questions?"

Tom huffed, obviously not wanting to give Hannibal Lecter the benefit of the doubt. Harry sent him a quelling look and continued his thoughts.

"Abigail was attacked with darts, which most likely meant Will had been too. So if magic didn't work to wake them up, they'd either have to wake up normally, or use potions. Once awakened, their magic would finally be able to function normally again.

Tom, get brewing on that potion. I'm going to see if I can pick up any sort of trace on Will's magical signature. Bella, could you take me to the room Will summoned you to?"

With that, the husband's separated after a shared kiss, both with their specific duties in mind.

They'd find their son and quite possibly, his lover as well.

Will's head was throbbing. He blinked, feeling like shite. As if someone had hit him over the head with a cast iron skillet.

Looking around at the room he was in, Will realized that he wasn't in a room, he was in a truck. A truck that was moving. He was also dangling upside down and beside him, was none other than Hannibal Lecter.

"Hannibal?"

The man did not respond, his breathing much slower than normal, meaning that he was still unconscious. They'd been attacked by unknown assailants and knocked out. Merlin, he was so angry with himself for not sensing anything out of the ordinary.

What sort of Empath was he?

The ride continued on for a while and Will's advanced hearing allowed him to guess just when Hannibal would be cognizant enough for intelligent conversation.

It was three hours after Will had awoken, that Hannibal finally graced the living world with his presence.

"You okay?" Will asked in a low whisper.

"I am… a mite uncomfortable," the man admitted.

Will snorted. "Tell me about it. The blood has rushed to my head and I will have a pounding headache for hours after this."

"I also may have an idea of just where we are and who we are going to meet."

"Who?"

"Can you not smell the pork?" Hannibal asked, a teasing light in his tone.

"I smell you the strongest, but I didn't really know what else was in here. I can see long, dark shapes, but nothing more."

"I believe…" grunted Hannibal, "that we are about to see dear old Mason again."

Will groaned. "We're with the pigs."

When Hannibal merely hummed in agreement, Will cursed. "I had left America because I wanted to avoid all this bloody drama! To get the hell away from these fucking twats and pretend none of them ever existed."

"Will, why do you have an English accent?"

Shite.

"Well… let's just say that I was born in England and that I'm from a French family that moved to Britain to be closer to what they perceived to be a better school for the family to attend. I am not from America… or Louisiana. I figured that was a good state to be from so I could get away with my random, French outbursts."

There was silence for the span of a moment. "Does that mean that everything you told me about your past was a lie?"

"Pretty much," Will shrugged. "I feel no guilt because you lied about a lot of shite as well, or shall I enumerate for you? Besides, my lying was in accordance with a law that can't be broken. You lied because you like to fuck with people's feelings."

"The law?"

"The Statue of Secrecy prevents people without magic, from learning about it, unless they have a direct family member or spouse who is involved. If you found out back then, the American Ministry would have sent an Obliviator to erase your memories and would have entered your mind to rearrange them around. Of course had they found anything incriminating against you, they would have simply dropped you off at the proper station and you would have been arrested.

Don't forget that should the government decide to take you away, they can. And they can tell anyone what they want about you, if they so desire, in order to get away with it."

So in a way, Will had totally saved Hannibal arse.

"Hm."

Hannibal grunted lightly as he was placed in a seat at the lavishly decorated table. Three men had been charged with dressing him in a wonderful, three piece suit for the upcoming dinner, leaving him properly prepared for the meal.

Will was sat to his left, looking annoyed.

Mason Verger was seated at the other end of the table. His face had gone through extensive surgery in order to return his looks to a somewhat normal appearance. He was also confined to a wheelchair because Hannibal snapping his neck had caused back problems.

Will was silent during Hannibal and Mason's conversation, though it seemed that Mason didn't consider Will to be a threat in the least. Hannibal knew that was foolish and not just because he had recently learned that Will had magic and could do who knows what with it.

Will was Hannibal's equal, so of course he would be capable of the same, terrifying beauty that Hannibal had accomplished in the past.

Will's mind was breathtaking and Hannibal longed to see it put to work.

"Mr. Graham looks a little dry," drawled Mason.

Will's eyes narrowed on Cordell. When the man leaned in to dab at Will's face with a moist towelette, Will lunged forward, sinking his teeth into the man's cheek and tearing away the corpulent flesh that rested there.

The man backed away, screaming as he held his face in his hands. Hannibal's attention was on Will though.

Dear Will spat out the piece of meat, directly onto his plate, but what was visible behind the blood dripping form his lips, was what caused Hannibal to freeze in place.

Will had fangs. Not the typical vampire fangs that children wore for days like Hallowe'en. No, every single one of his teeth were long and sharpened into a point. Hannibal had seen his teeth not an hour ago and they hadn't looked like that.

"Oh, God!" Mason said, ironically enough. "You're one of those… magicals!"

Will's eyes focused on Mason, but from the where he sat, Hannibal could see the red seeping into those blue orbs. Will's skin began to bleed black and his hair darkened, growing past his shoulders.

Will disappeared from his chair, a small pop following him.

In the far corner, Hannibal's eyes latched onto a shadowed figure, with piercing red eyes. The lights in the room burst completely, and the candles went out. A chill flowed over them all, making even Hannibal shiver.

A mist rose from the floor, shining in the moonlight just barely coming in through the drawn curtains.

The creature in the corner stepped closer and closer, until it's form was illuminated in the moonlight. Tall, black as pitch, and demonic in appearance. Hannibal could make out the antlers on it's head, the claws on its hands, the sharp fangs protruding from the beastly face.

Distantly, he could hear Mason beginning to scream, but Hannibal only had eyes for the creature.

It was terrifying, but so beautiful. The growl that slipped from the being made the hairs on his body stand on end, especially when a puff of white air burst from the mouth and frosted the window over.

Mason's was moving away from the table, but the motorized chair was in no way capable of helping him outrun any kind of attacker.

The creature lunged, its body sailing through the air in order to pounce on the Verger Head.

Mason died, unable to scream as his throat had been torn out savagely, leaving him to bleed out on the marble floor of his dining room. The creature turned to the chef and dismembered him without even looking at him, because those red eyes were staring into Hannibal's soul.

Hannibal stiffened, watching carefully. He may have been strapped to a chair, but he did have a knife on hand and even Hannibal could turn a butter knife into a weapon. Appreciation aside, he was a survivalist first and foremost.

The creature's head tilted, eyes looking over Hannibal. It stepped around the table, it's unnatural legs reminding him of a satyr, while the torso looked very much like a human male's chest, but the rib cage was too prominent. The head was like a deer/human mixture, and the antlers left him confused.

Hannibal knew folklore, myths, and legends very well, having found all of them fascinating. He had only read of one creature that resembled what stood before him.

Wendigo.

A creature that consumed human flesh.

The being was right beside him now, face dangerously close to Hannibal's as it proceeded to… nuzzle his cheek.

Clawed hands reached up and grabbed the belt keeping Hannibal in place. The metal belt was snapped in half easily, freeing the man from his prison.

Another nuzzle to his cheek and a small whine.

"Will?" Hannibal ventured with uncertainty.

"Hannibal."

His voice was guttural, almost incoherent, but Hannibal understood.

"Will, can you turn back?"

The creature - who was definitely Will - backed away and began to shrink in size, no longer monstrously tall. The skin returned to the creamy paleness Hannibal was used to. The antlers seemed to melt into the hair that was once again short and curly.

The only difference from before, was that Will was naked.

"I was angry," the man murmured as Hannibal stood. "I… didn't like how he was talking to you. It bothered me."

"It bothered you, how someone else claimed that I was theirs and they were going to eat me?" asked the doctor, reveling in the fact that Will still cared for him in some ways.

"Because you're mine, Hannibal."

Without hesitation, Hannibal wrapped an arm around Will's waist and pulled the man into a tight embrace. He sighed at the pleasant feeling of Will holding him in return. Willingly.

"While this is absolutely adorable, we need to get rid of the evidence."

Hannibal stiffened at the unfamiliar voice and both he and Will looked up, finding a familiar man standing in the doorway of the room.

While Will seemed to brighten immensely, Hannibal stomach dropped.

It was the man from the photos. The one he didn't want to ever meet.

"Father!"

And he was Will's father.

A/N: Another is done!

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CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.