AoC 17

Harry Potter and the Ashes of Chaos

Year 1: The Forsaken’s Ascension

Chapter 17: For the Greater Good

By ACI100

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit. 

Acknowledgement: Thank you as always to my lovely betas Umar, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their incredible work on this story.

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In addition, you can follow the official ACI100 fanfiction account on Instagram @aci100ff or by using the link on my profile to get even more out of my written works.

Author’s Note:

Well — this one might break the Internet. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t extremely nervous about this one. No more setup, no more filler, the climax of year 1 is upon us! Apologies in advance for the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter; I only do it because I love you guys :)

June 4, 1992.

The Slytherin Dormitories.

11:52 PM.

Harry stared down at his half of the enchanted set of parchments. He was in absolute awe of his brother’s stupidity. His exterior was a mask of perfect calm but in reality, his thoughts were complete and utter turmoil.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!’

For the most part, he was sick with an emotion that he had rarely if ever felt before — worry. 

As foreign as the thought had been to him at the start of the year, Harry genuinely did care for his brother and would much rather he did not get murdered by Voldemort or whomever was doing her bidding. There was, too, a part of Harry that was burning with red hot fury. Charlus had promised him that he would not run off after Voldemort. He had promised that under no circumstances would that change. 

Now, Harry had a serious dilemma on his hands. Should he go after his brother and risk his own death at the hands of the psychopathic Dark Lady that murdered his mother? Or should he stay behind in the dorms and risk that psychopathic Dark Lady getting her hands on a Stone that sounded like it would bring her back to the height of her power? In the end, it was Firenze’s words that spurred him to scribble his reply to Neville on the parchment.

“Can you think of no one?” the centaur asked him darkly. “No one who would go to such lengths to regain the power they once wielded? No one who has bided their time for years? No one who may wish to meet Harry Potter alone in a clearing in the dead of night?”

From what Harry had read on the topic of divination, it seemed a flimsy branch of magic for certain, but something about Firenze… he couldn’t put his finger on it, but the centaur most certainly had the air of someone who knew a lot more than they were letting on. The mention of how Voldemort would love to find him alone in a clearing was what did it. 

If Voldemort had any intention of harming him, Harry was going to do his utmost best to strike while she was at her weakest. With that being said, his plan was not to confront whoever was working for her. His plan was to stop Charlus and his group of idiots before they got themselves killed and hope that other actions on his part would bring more qualified adults into the picture. Of course, he had a feeling that his plans would not play out like that, but he could try. 


Neville, I’m going after him; I know where he’s gone. 

If you can, get Dumbledore and tell him that Charlus has gone after whoever is trying to steal the Stone. Don’t ask questions, just do it.

If you can’t get Dumbledore, McGonagall will do. 

Harry put the parchment back in his bag and sat up, peering at Blaise’s bed. He knew that the bed was warded, but he really needed his friend awake right about now. Cautiously, Harry tossed the quill towards Blaise’s curtains. It hit them and nothing happened, but he had a feeling that would not remain the same if he himself touched them. Fortunately, he didn’t have to, as a moment later, the curtains slid aside and Blaise leaned his head out of them. Clearly, he had not yet been asleep.

“What?” he asked, still somehow managing to sound bored.

“I need you to get Professor Hurst for me.” he told Blaise. Normally, such an outlandish request would have prompted questions but evidently, Blaise could tell from Harry’s tone that there was a method to his madness.

“Anything else?” he asked, suddenly alert. 

“Yes,” Harry said, struggling now to keep his voice calm, “if you can get into the girl’s dorms and wake Daphne, Tracey or both; do it. Tell them to get Snape and give him the same instructions you’re going to give Hurst.”

“Which are?”

Harry took a deep breath. “Charlus Potter has gone after whoever he thinks is trying to steal the Stone tonight.”

Blaise’s eyes widened. “You’re not?”

“I am.” 

“Harry, this is stupid. If he’s right… this could be suicide.”

“Blaise, I’m sorry. There are things you don’t know, but the stakes are higher than you could ever imagine. Besides, I’m not planning on confronting whoever is trying to steal it. My plan is to stop my brother and hope teachers show up.” he paused. “Ideally, I’ll never even see whoever is after the Stone. Worst case scenario, I’ll do my best to distract them until somebody else shows up.” he closed his eyes, trying to keep both his interior and exterior as calm as possible. At the moment, it was a surprisingly Herculean task. “Right now, I just need you to do what I’ve asked.” He hesitated. “And… tell Daphne and Tracey, will you? Just in case, tell them…” but he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Blaise’s mask didn’t even crack as he nodded. “I understand.” he said gravely. “Harry, be careful… please?”



Ten Minutes Later.

‘This is stupid. You have no bloody idea how to get past a Cerberus! This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your life!’


The lock clicked and the door swung open. Luckily for Harry, he didn’t have to get past any such beast. The Cerberus was there alright, massive, three headed and terrifying. Fortunately for Harry, it was also motionless, unbreathing and unseeing — unmistakably dead. Privately, he thought that was far too convenient. Most any eleven year old boy may have exalted in the fact, but not Harry. He knew this could only mean one thing, at the very least, whoever was after the Stone had already been past this obstacle. He supposed that there was a chance that Charlus had not reached this point yet, but he doubted it. His brother had been gifted with a head-start, and Harry was sure that if Charlus hadn’t made it past the dog, it would not be overly difficult to tell.

His perception of the dumbest thing he had ever done in his life changed again a second later when he realized he would have to throw himself into complete and utter darkness. With an internal sigh, Harry thought that at least he would be getting the opportunity to try out one of the second year charms that he had read up about this year.

After all, in the past, desperation had always served as an excellent motivator for Harry to perform magic he had previously thought himself incapable of. Between the Protego shield and the next stage of Occlumency, Harry was starting to think desperation had some sort of definitive effect on magic. After unsuccessfully attempting to see what he may be jumping into or at least how far the fall may be, Harry threw himself through the open trapdoor and immediately held his wand tighter.

“Arresto Momentum!”

His fall slowed drastically and before he knew it, he landed safely, if a bit roughly on something soft and squishy. He tried to filter through his expansive bank of memories in order to figure out what he may have landed on by comparing the feeling, but he came up empty.


As his wand lit, a horrible screech of pain filled the cavern as his wand light illuminated a rather terrifying plant Harry had never seen before. 

‘Oh, the irony.’ he thought, flashing back to his first day in the greenhouses back in September. 

“Some of the lessons you participate in within the walls of these greenhouses in future years will be some of the most difficult and dangerous work you will do while at this school. What?” she asked knowingly, as several people smirked exasperatedly. Padma Patil let out a rather loud, rather derisive snort, and Crabbe and Goyle actually snickered. “You don’t believe me, do you? Well then, can anyone here name me a plant that could potentially kill a witch or wizard?” 

The class went dead silent.

Harry’s hand rose into the air, as did the Asian girl’s from Ravenclaw — Su Li, as well as Daphne’s.

“Mr… Potter.” indicated the professor, and though Harry did not falter, he also did not fail to notice that the professor’s voice hitched a bit on his name. 

“Devil’s Snare.” he answered simply, to which she nodded, prompting him to go on. “It is a plant with tentacle like vines that will strangle anything that touches it.”

Patil was not laughing now and all of a sudden, Harry did not see any smiles on the faces dotted around the room.

“Concise and correct, Mr. Potter. Take five points to Slytherin. Now, can anybody tell me how you would defend yourself against this plant?”

This time, the professor pointed out Daphne.

“Light or fire.” she answered easily. “Devil’s Snare tends to prefer dark, damp climates, and is completely vulnerable to either option; though fire is the best way to actually kill the plant.”

As this memory flashed through his mind, Harry brandished his wand towards the plant itself. “Incendio!” he roared, and the screams grew louder as the plant quickly backed away from him, leaving his path free. 

Harry scrambled up and out of the plant’s way. He did not so much as break stride when he entered the next chamber until he saw the… somethings flying in the air. 

At first, Harry thought they were some sort of odd magical creature that he had never seen before but upon a closer inspection, he realized that they were a number of keys. The possibility that they were charmed to attack him should he try and retrieve the correct one, which stood out rather obviously due to the fact that it’s wings were absolutely battered, clearly having been used at least once tonight, was still a very real possibility. 

Then, he saw the broomsticks. Hesitating, he took a few, cautious steps forward, waiting for something, anything to happen. Perhaps the keys would bare down on him with invisible talons? Perhaps some other guardian would appear. But nothing of the sort did, and before he knew it, Harry was standing on the other side of the room as he looked from the broomsticks in front of him to the keys far above. 

Rather ominously, Harry thought about how easy this all seemed. Surely none of this could actually stop a grown witch or wizard?

Taking hold of one, Harry launched into the air and began to weave through the keys. This was brilliant! No restraints put on him by Madam Hooch, just free flying. Later, if he survived, Harry would have to question and internalize the fact that in this moment, even so close to what he knew could be his imminent death, he was having more fun than he had experienced in ages. It didn’t last long, as in less than a minute, Harry had snagged the correct key and jammed it into the lock. He made to discard his broomstick but thought better of it. It could be useful.

In the very next chamber, it paid dividends when he saw the chess board laid out in front of him. He saw as well, to his great surprise, a bushy haired witch shaking from head to toe. 

“Granger?” he asked, making her jump a foot in the air before whirling on him, fumbling for her wand.

It wasn’t even a challenge. 

Harry’s wand snapped into his hand from his holster and before Granger could even fully draw her own, it was flying through the air towards Harry, who caught it easily. 

For a split second, the girl looked furious, then panicked, and then realization dawned in her eyes when she realized who had disarmed her. “Potter?”

“Nope,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes, “his long lost brother.” 

She scowled. “Give me back my wand!”

“Only when you’ve explained what the hell is going on! Charlus promised me he wouldn’t do anything stupid.” Then, his eyes narrowed. “Unless you and the idiot Weasley forced or convinced him?”

She flushed. “We would do no such thing!”

“Weasley would probably do it for the laughs. You probably wouldn’t normally, but if you thought you were right, I bet you could justify it.” Before she could start on a tirade, he levelled her with a glare that froze her in place. “Explain!”

“No! I’ve got to go get Professor McGonagall!”

‘For fuck sake!’

He debated trying to explain to her that he already had somebody on that, but decided against it. After all, he very much doubted that Hermione Granger knew Occlumency. 

Luckily for him, the events of the night were on her mind, so he merely had to push past her eyes and observe for several long seconds. When he looked away, she staggered. “What-“

“Go, now!” and he threw her back her wand and mounted his broom, kicking off from the ground and simply flying over the chess set and through the next chamber where he already knew the troll to be lying dead. He didn’t even spare the fallen Weasley a glance, nor did he look back at the still frozen, still baffled form of Hermione Granger as he discarded his broom before entering the final chamber Granger had seen. When he entered said room he took the correct vial without hesitating, which had refilled itself, and downed it. With one last, final breath, Harry walked through the flames into the unknown. 

Holding that breath in an effort to maintain his invisibility, Harry did a quick scan of the room which took only seconds. A terribly familiar mirror, a figure standing in the shadows, and another on the ground, bound in ropes. Without a thought, Harry’s wand aimed at the standing figure’s throat. He had planned to distract the figure, but he had such a perfect opportunity to end it now and honestly, all plans had sort of gone out the window when he saw his brother bound in ropes.


Unfortunately, though the figure did seem extremely surprised, they were just as fast. They whirled and seemingly without effort, they batted Harry’s spell away. Harry lost the advantage of invisibility a second later when he glimpsed the woman’s face and let out a gasp as his eyes bulged, his jaw fell open, and his heart nearly stopped. “You?!”

“Me.” Professor Hurst answered lazily, smiling fondly back down at Harry. “That was a well aimed spell,” she told him, “you’ve done well this year, but you negated the advantage of your invisibility by shouting your spell for the gods to hear. If non verbal casting is beyond you, you should have at least whispered the spell. That isn’t even taking into account your failure to use the ring to its full potential. You should have observed me from the other room using its auditory features. That way, you could have kept your surprise to yourself and maintained the advantage of invisibility in conjunction with the whispered incantation.”

Harry wasn’t sure what was more shocking to him; the fact that his mentor was stood in front of him, most likely helping the Dark Lady gain back her powers, or the fact that she was lecturing him on tactics when he had just tried to murder her.

Then, something else clicked. “You know about the ring?” then, his eyes widened again. “You! It was you who sent the ring?”

“Ah, I had wondered when you would piece together the identity of your not-so-secret admirer. Yes, I enchanted the ring and thought you could make some use of it. I confess, I never thought you would use it in an attempt to forestall my plans.”

“But it can’t be you.” Harry breathed, still barely able to speak. 

Professor Hurst merely raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And why can’t it be me, Harry?” she asked him, sounding as if he had merely proposed an interesting theory in her class. 

“You wouldn’t help Voldemort.” he told her. “You’ve been helping me all year. You saved me from the troll. You helped me that day I lost control of my magic. You taught me how to fight and you just told me that you enchanted me a priceless magical artifact.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Harry.” she told him exasperatedly. “Just because I did all of those kind things doesn’t mean I can’t support Lady Voldemort. What have I been preaching to you all year, granted, as covertly as I possibly could? There is no such thing as light and dark and good and evil, only power, and the intent with which it is wielded.”

“But it doesn’t make sense.” Harry protested. “You’ve been helping me, but Voldemort would want to kill me.”

Hurst blinked; she actually looked confused. “Why would Voldemort want to kill you?”

“I’m the Boy-Who-Lived’s brother.” Harry pointed out the obvious. “And in the forest… when I ran into her — at least, I think it was her, the centaurs told me-“

“Divination is such a fickle art, Harry.” Professor Hurst said softly, an odd anger lacing her tone. “It can predict the rough outline of events for certain, but it tells nothing of their intricacies. It can speak of the pawns but says nothing of their motives.” Hurst appraised him for several moments. “Lady Voldemort does not wish to kill you.”

Harry gaped. “So… you have been helping her? How do you know that? Has she told you?”

Professor Hurst’s lips curled up into a knowing smile. “You are very clever, Harry.” she complimented him. “But you are missing the truth that is staring you right in the face, both literally and metaphorically — I am Lady Voldemort.” 

‘Oh… fuck!’

“But that’s-“

“Impossible? Implausible? Ridiculous? Yes, your brother thought so too.” she gestured to Charlus, bound and gagged on the floor. “You see, Harry, your brother,” she paused, “or you, I suppose, as I am not sure, did not truly defeat me ten and a half years ago, only vanquished me. Granted, I was weak, I was less than the meanest spirit, less than the average ghost, but I was still very much alive. My powers were all but gone, but I maintained a certain control over mind magics, which enabled me, in conjunction with my wraith form, to possess other creatures.” her lips curved upwards in a bitter smile. “Snakes were my favourite, for obvious reasons, but they could not host my spirit for long; their bodies were too weak, their minds too frail. There was a long time, Harry, where I thought I may never get a body back.” Her smile was more pleasant now, as if remembering a rather fond memory.

“That all changed when an American witch stumbled into my domain. How she came to be so far in the forests of Albania, I will never know, but there she was.”

“So you… what, possessed her?” Harry asked, transfixed with equal bits horror and intrigue. 

“Yes and no.” she replied clinically, as if discussing something academic. “Another power I maintained was the ability to speak with snakes.” she shrugged. “There were no shortage of venomous serpents to strike the stranger down for me. From there, I merely had to hitch a ride in her body.”

“You’ve lost me again,” Harry said, using every ounce of proficiency he had with Occlumency to maintain a clear and non panicked mind. He had to keep her talking.

“Why get the stone at all then? You have a body?”

“It is not that simple.” she told him. “This body is not mine, not accustomed to my soul, nor compatible with my magic. Within the body of another, my magic is limited, terribly weak by comparison to what it would be in my own body. I do not, by example, have any ability with wandless magic in this body. In my own, I was perhaps the most proficient magic user in the world within the field. 

“There are other problems, as well,” she continued, “this body, as I have said, is unaccustomed to my soul. The months of carrying it have weakened this vessel greatly.” she smiled at Harry. “You saw me hunting unicorn blood, Harry. Without it over the past number of months, this body would have already failed me. Now though,” she told him, “now, I have no need for this body; not once I take the Philosopher’s Stone from your brother’s pocket.” Harry wondered how the hell Charlus had wound up with the Philosopher’s Stone in his pocket, but he did not comment on the fact.

“It’s been you then,” Harry said as several pieces clicked into place, “you tried to kill Charlus at the Quidditch match?”

“You sound surprised?”

“You said you don’t want to kill me, and you also said…” he paused as the thought registered with him for the first time, “you said me or Charlus destroyed you ten and a half years ago?”

She smiled at him once more. “Ah, caught up, have you? Yes, I did indeed do my best to kill Charlus at that match. It would have worked too, if not for Severus muttering the counter curse under his breath.”

“But I saw Sinistra-“

“The Imperius curse is a wonderful thing, Harry.”

He paused as his mind blanked for a second. “The troll…” he breathed.

Voldemort frowned. “The what?”

“You let the troll in on Halloween or,” his eyes widened, “you imperiused Higgs to let it in and go check the corridor for you. It didn’t show up when Dumbledore tried using Priori Incantatem, but neither did The Killing Curse, so you clearly have a way around that.” but a moment later, Harry was even more surprised than he had been upon coming to that realization as Voldemort was shaking her — no, Hurst’s — no, the American witches head.

“I did not do that.” she said, sounding completely genuine. “I have no idea who let the troll in on Halloween. I suspect your theory about Higgs, which, for your information, the Headmaster shares has some validity. I assure you, however, I did not place Terence Higgs under the Imperius curse, nor do I know who did it.”

Harry supposed that it was just his luck that there was yet another mysterious murderous lunatic running around.

“How did you get around the reverse spell effect? I read about it after Charlus told me about the conversation he’d eavesdropped on. It seemed fairly fool proof.”

Hurst shrugged. “Acquiring a second wand from a most unlucky wizard on the way back to Britain was not difficult.”

“Wait, so you had the American witch’s wand and the other wizard’s? Aren’t other’s wands not supposed to work for you?”

“That is a broad and only partially correct statement. They will not work nearly as well as your own, but for a true master of magic, it does not stop them. I could likely project the Killing Curse through a wand that fought my magic tooth and nail based on my level of magical control. The wands are an irritant, but little more than that.”

That was interesting, and mildly terrifying. “What was that bit about me or Charlus then? Everybody knows Charlus vanquished you.”

“People know nothing.” Voldemort said dismissively. “I cast the killing curse that night at you, Harry, not your brother.” Harry’s jaw fell open and Charlus’s eyes bulged from his place on the floor. “Your brother tried to push you out of the way.” she shrugged. “I have no idea which of you the curse struck, but truthfully, I do not care.”

“You don’t care?” Harry asked incredulously.

“A prophecy spoke of a boy with the power to vanquish me. Granted, I heard but a piece of the prophecy, but as far as I am concerned, it has been fulfilled. No, I need only kill Charlus Potter to prove that their beacon of hope was not enough.” If Harry survived this ordeal, he would need to look into prophecies.

She fixed Harry with that intense stare. “You though, Harry, do not need to die. Your potential is near unlimited; I sensed it that night in Godric’s Hollow and you have proven it to me throughout the entirety of this year. We are not so different, Harry. I understand you more than anybody you have ever met could ever understand you.” her eyes were gleaming once more. “Join me, Harry. Keep what happens down here a secret, allow me to strike from the shadows and I will teach you the truth of all magics. With my tutelage, you will master all of its branches and intricacies. Together, we can topple Dumbledore and tear this polluted world down brick by brick only to build it anew. Stronger, greater, better in every way the brain can conceive.” she met his gaze hungrily. “Tell me you do not want that, Harry? I can grant you anything.”

Charlus was thrashing in his binds now, desperately trying to escape. Harry’s wand hung limp at his side as he was completely and utterly frozen but Voldemort made no move to disarm or attack him. It all came down to this. Harry could join Voldemort and privately, he thought that there truly was a good chance that they could do exactly what she told him. This could be how he did it, how he overshadowed his brother and father — hell, even Dumbledore. 

Two things gave him pause, however. In this new world, what place would people like Tracey have; half bloods from no name families? But Tracey was his friend… he would never support a world in which she would do anything but thrive. He was no fan of muggles, but he despised the concept of blood purity down to its roots. And Voldemort, for everything she had done for him this year was, at the core, still the woman who had started the downward spiral that had become Harry’s life. He may not believe in good and evil, but there were certainly some principles that he absolutely believed in. After all, he had named his owl Nemesis for a reason. 

“I want to,” he told her softly, and Charlus thrashed even harder, “I want to outdo my brother and father more than anything else, but… you ruined my life, and frankly, we don’t have the time for you to explain yourself.” Before Voldemort could react, Harry’s wand was aimed at Charlus.


A second later, Harry had to dodge a jet of red light that he recognized as the stunner. Odd, how she was still not trying to kill him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Charlus scrambling furiously for his wand and knew that he had to hold off Voldemort until he got to it.

“You don’t understand,” she told him again, sounding more sad than upset, “we are alike, Harry. I understand your decision and I would have chosen the same at the age of eleven, but you need to listen to me. There is so much you don’t understand. So much about me, so much about Dumbledore, so much about the worl-“

“Lacero!” he cried, trying the dark cutting curse his older friends had taught him for the first time. It worked, but Voldemort shielded easily, though she looked surprised. 

“I am impressed, Harry. I certainly did not teach you that, but it hardly matters. I will explain everything later, but for now, I must end this little game of ours.” And just like that, the kid gloves she had been wearing during their mock duels came off and Harry felt as if he was being attacked by not one woman, but a battalion of warriors that had him completely surrounded. Spells came from everywhere, none of them he knew. He dodged, shielded and deflected like a mad man but within seconds, he was dangling helplessly upside down with his wand clattering out of his hand in the same position she had forced him into the first day they had shared a defense classroom together. 

She whipped around and took aim at Charlus.


Before she could finish the incantation, Charlus lunged forward, abandoning magic as a whole as he slammed into the taller woman’s knees and sent her sprawling. Before she could retrieve her fallen wand, Charlus clambered on top of her and grabbed her by the throat. Before he could attempt strangling her, Hurst — or Voldemort — or whoever, let out a terrible, blood curdling scream as suddenly, the terrible stench of burnt flesh filled the chamber. Charlus paused for a moment as he too let out a cry of agony that Harry could not understand the origin of. He would have cursed his twin for the weakness had his scar not exploded in pure, unadulterated pain at that exact same moment.

Charlus was screaming too and Hurst was on top of him now. But then she started screaming and the pain in Harry’s scar doubled as he, Charlus and Hurst all screamed in a terrible catcophony of pure agony and torture before finally, it became too much, and Harry gave into the darkness and felt or heard nothing at all.


June 5th 1992.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The Hospital Wing, 

1:46 AM.

Daphne sniffed once more as she sat in a chair beside Harry’s bed, keeping a rather firm grip on his hand as she did so. Blaise and Tracey had stayed for quite some time, but they had decided to leave a few minutes earlier. They would be meeting in the Speaker’s Den when Daphne was finished. Harry had graciously told them the odd password he had chosen. He had imposed two conditions. The Den was only to be used in emergency situations when they were one-hundred percent certain they would not be seen. And none of them were to attempt sitting in the throne-like chair. Neither of those conditions had seemed unreasonable, so Daphne, Blaise and Tracey had acquiesced without complaint.

At the moment, Daphne had eyes for only the boy lying prone in the bed at her side. She wasn’t sure how she had grown so close to him over the year, but Harry felt like an extension of her family already. It physically pained Daphne to see him like this and now that she was alone, she allowed the tears to fall freely and quietly from her eyes. She hated seeing those close to her hurt. It reminded her forcefully of the early days of her friendship with Tracey so many years earlier even though the two situations were so different. She was grateful that Madam Pomfrey had let her stay in the Hospital Wing, even if it had taken some convincing from the Headmaster.

Five or so minutes later, Daphne was snapped out of her quiet sobbing when a familiar voice spoke from nearby, though the tone of said voice was far softer than she had heard it before. “Ms. Greengrass, for the sake of both of us, please do your best to pull yourself together.”

Daphne whirled around as best she could without jostling Harry since she still had a hold of his hand. With her free hand, she quickly tried to brush the tears from her eyes as she peered upon the stony visage of her Head of House. “P-Professor?”

Snape nodded curtly, withdrawing his wand and conjuring a chair beside hers before taking a seat in said chair heavily. 

Silence stretched on between them for another five minutes before the Potions Master broke it. “You have all done very well tonight.” he commended in an odd, hollow sort of voice.

Daphne looked at him again. His eyes too were fixed on Harry, but there was no discernable emotion within them.

“We didn’t do much, Professor.” Daphne told him bitterly. 

“That, Ms. Greengrass, is precisely where yourself, Ms. Davis and Mr. Zabini succeeded.” 

Daphne peered confusedly at the man. “Professor?”

“Without the Headmaster’s intervention, Ms. Greengrass, I fear your friend’s and his twin’s struggles would have been in vain. There were many ways you could have reacted to a realization as jarring as the one you were exposed to this evening. You could have simply ignored the plea from Mr. Potter, seeing it as a drastic and unfounded overreaction. Such a reaction would have been perfectly reasonable, but for reasons I hope for your sake I do not need to expand upon, the result of that course of action would have been… unpleasant.” Daphne gulped at the mere thought as Snape pressed on.

“The second path you and your friends could have taken was the one most steeped in cliches and idiocy. You could have foolishly rushed after Mr. Potter in an attempt to save him. An attempt which, for your information, would have failed rather horribly.” Daphne tried to suppress a wince. If she had gotten her way, that was the exact course of action they would have taken. Thank Merlin that Blaise had been so composed and resolute.

“The three of you chose the path most suited to the noble House of Salazar Slytherin. You analyzed the situation and understood that any other course would be foolish. By alerting those superior to yourselves, you prevented a great travesty tonight and for that, Ms. Greengrass, you have done Slytherin House proud.”

Daphne bit her lip. “What about Harry, Professor?”

Snape closed his eyes and did not answer for several seconds. “Competent Potter rushed off in a manner that was self serving and foolish.” he raised his hand to prevent any interruptions. “With that being said,” he continued, suddenly sounding as if he had sucked on a rather sour lemon, “from what myself and the Headmaster have gathered, his display was nothing short of admirable. The approach was strategically flawed, but Mr. Potter is well on his way to perhaps rebuilding some of the reputation that our House has tarnished over the years, decades and centuries.” Snape sighed and looked at Daphne. “It is very late, Ms. Greengrass, and I am no fool. I know perfectly well you will be up late into the night, uselessly theorizing about what may or may not have taken place. I recommend you do so promptly. Mr. Potter will remain here until tomorrow, at which point you may return.”


“Ms. Greengrass.”

“Do you know what happened to him? Do you know why he is like this?”

Snape paused, seeming to hesitate before he answered very slowly. “I do not know why either of them have found themselves in the state they are in, but I can tell you two things on the matter. Firstly, neither of them were hit by any spell which had the effects of anything more than restraining its target. And secondly, both of them will recover with no lasting physical injuries.”

Daphne stood shakily to her feet, noting how odd and out of character this had all been for her Head of House. “Good night, Professor, and thank you.”


Ten Minutes Later In The Speaker’s Den.

As she left the hospital wing, wiping a stray tear from her eye as she went, Daphne still felt rather sick to her stomach at the image of one of her best friends, pale, motionless and unmoving, lying face up in a hospital bed. What was more disturbing still was the fact that Madam Pomfrey knew nothing about what had happened, nor, apparently, did Snape. Daphne had managed to find Professor Snape in quick succession after Blaise had woken her in the middle of the night, and the man had contacted the Headmaster at once using an odd, silvery spell that she did not know. According to Professor Snape, no physical harm had been done to either Potter, but that made absolutely no sense. 

When Daphne had finished filling Blaise and Tracey in on all of this, Blaise’s brow was furrowed. “That doesn’t make any sense.” he answered through pursed lips.

Daphne sighed and rolled her eyes. “That is the exact point I just brought up, Zabini.”

“I’m aware, I was simply adding to it. If there was no spell that hit him designed to do any damage, why is he completely out of it?”

“And why doesn’t anybody know what did it?” Tracey added in a small, worried voice.

“You don’t know of any magic that could do such a thing, Blaise?” Daphne asked.

Blaise shook his head sharply. “I know some questionable things, Daphne, but that’s not one of them.” Daphne nodded, accepting the statement. There was a long, tense pause before Blaise spoke carefully. “I know we made the right choice by going to the teachers,” he began, “but I wonder… I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t let Harry go.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him.” Daphne told him reasonably. “Don’t dwell on it, Blaise. In the most polite way possible, if Harry wanted to get past you, he would have.”

Blaise sighed languidly. “Yes, yes, I know he would have. It still feels odd, knowing that you made the right decision but not being happy with it.” he hesitated. “I… was never raised with much of a moral compass.” he admitted. “I know that strategically, we made the right decision, but was it the right call morally?” It seemed to Daphne as if Blaise was genuinely asking, but she had no good answer.

“I don’t know, Blaise.” she told him honestly. “I really don’t know.”

“This is all pointless!” Tracey exclaimed, drawing the attention of the other two. “What good is it to beat ourselves up over things that are done and that we can’t change? We did what Harry asked us to do. We did what we thought was right and it worked. That’s the end of it. Things happen for a reason. Life can be complicated, but things usually work out in the end. Let’s forget about this, ok? I know we don’t know Harry super well or anything, but I guarantee you that he wouldn’t want us to be arguing over what should and shouldn’t have been done.”

On the surface, they were so different that sometimes, Daphne forgot how truly similar Harry and Tracey really were. But all three of them knew she was right. Daphne knew it even better than the other two. Her mind flashed back to a corridor months earlier where Harry had told her the events of the past could not be changed and he would not be going out of his way to seek revenge on those who had wronged him.

“Tracey’s right.” Daphne put in. “I doubt any of us are going to be able to sleep, but it’s worth a shot.”

Ten or so minutes later, once Daphne, Blaise and Tracey had all left The Den, there was a shimmer near the seemingly dead-end corridor, and a tall girl with dirty blonde hair flickered into existence. 

“How interesting.” Grace murmured, running her wand gently along the carving of the serpent as her bluish silver eyes studied the wall intently.


June 8th 1992.

The Hospital Wing.

9:32 AM.

Harry woke with a soft groan and quickly tensed when he realized he had no idea where he was. Immediately, he sat bolt upright, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in his head as he fumbled for his wand. 

“Easy.” a familiar voice said from beside him, though it was cooler than Harry had heard it in some time. 

He relaxed if only a bit. “Charlus… what’s going on? Voldemort? The Stone? Where are we?”

“Harry, it’s fine. Voldemort’s gone and Flamel chose to have the Stone destroyed. It’s over.” 

“Where are-“

“Hospital wing.” Charlus said tiredly. “I only woke up an hour and a half ago. Professor Dumbledore just left about an hour ago; he told me everything that happened when he got there. He said he’s gonna talk to you in his office later.”

Harry relaxed, if only a bit. “She’s not… you know, really gone though, is she?”

“Nope.” Charlus said bitterly. “I destroyed her body, but not her. At least, that’s what Professor Dumbledore told me.”

Absentmindedly, Harry wondered how that worked. He thought once the body was destroyed, the soul should inevitably follow. He also did admittedly have to concede that he knew absolutely nothing on that front.

“What day is it?”

“June 8th.” Charlus told him. “We’ve been out for a little over three days.”

“But why-“

“I dunno why you were out.” his voice was just a fraction too cold for Harry not to pick up on. “Professor Dumbledore told me I used a lot of magic destroying Voldemort’s body, so my body was in shock or something.”

“Probably intense magical exhaustion.” Harry noted.

“Yeah,” Charlus muttered, “that.” there was an awkward moment of silence. “Harry?” Charlus asked tensely.


“Down in the chamber, when Voldemort asked you to join her… you hesitated.”

“No, I didn’t-“

“Yes you did!” Charlus argued, his voice rising in volume as some heat flushed into his cheeks. “You even said you wanted to-“

“Merlin, you’re dense.” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “I was trying to distract her, you idiot.”

“I’m the idiot! You-“

“Yes, you are! You promised me, Charlus; you promised me that you wouldn’t go after her. You told me under no circumstances-“

“Dumbledore was gone! We knew she’d make her-“

“UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES! What part of that don’t you understand? Merlin, you’re thick.”

“But you said-“

“To distract her and buy us some time! Which I never would have had to do if not for you being an idiot and rushing after her like a bloody Gryffindor!”

“This bloody Gryffindor was the one who saved your arse and vanquished her again!”

“Only because this bloody Snake saved your arse first. If I didn’t show up, she’d have killed you and got off with the Stone. I bet she had you bound in seconds.”

“That’s not-“

“You’re a terrible liar, little brother.”

“I’m a terrible liar? Says the one who’s going on about distractions while he was tempted to go dark! What was that about outdoing me and dad?”

“Yes, I want to be better than the brother who treated me like a prat for the colour of my robes and the father who abandoned me. I fail to see what’s wrong with any of that.” he scowled. “And to go back to your earlier point, we don’t even know if you vanquished her the first time. She said herself-“

“I think that secret has revealed itself now, Mr. Potter.” said a vaguely familiar voice. Harry and Charlus, who was red faced and furious, turned to the doorway of the hospital wing. Standing there were two figures. The first was James who, surprisingly, didn’t quite look right. He looked concerned for his sons, but it wasn’t the dominant emotion on display. He was pale and looked almost sick and he wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. The other man in the doorway, the speaker, was Dumbledore and most uncharacteristically, there was no twinkle in the old man’s eyes. 

“Charlus… Harry.” odd again, the awkward, nervous pause before James said Harry’s name. “Are you two alright?”

“Fine.” Charlus dismissed hotly as Harry nodded. 

“If you are quite alright, Harry,” Dumbledore cut in, “I think this an excellent time for the meeting I think the two of us must partake in. I have just concluded my meeting with your father and have already spoken at length with your brother. If we are quick about such things, we will finish in time for the Leaving Feast and there are… certain matters we must discuss.”

“Yes sir.” Harry answered curtly, standing immediately and once again ignoring the pain in his head. He just needed to get out of the room with Charlus, who was positively fuming and was seriously testing Harry’s patience right about now. Dumbledore must have noticed, because without any more preamble, he gestured for Harry to follow him and swept straight out of the Hospital Wing.

Neither of them spoke until they came to a handsome stone gargoyle that Harry had passed numerous times this year during his explorations of the castle. “Lemon drop.” Dumbledore said, and his voice was less jovial, more curt than Harry had ever heard it before. Harry didn’t even have the energy to be surprised as he climbed the spiraling staircase behind the Headmaster and entered his office, taking the comfortable armchair across the desk from Dumbledore upon the man’s prompt to do so. 

For a moment, neither man spoke; then, Dumbledore broke the ice. “I suspect, seeing the state I found you in, that you are not in the mood for niceties so I shall try and be quaint. I am sure you have questions for me?”

“Yes.” Harry answered without pause. “What happened? Charlus just told me he destroyed her body.”

“That is the crux of it.” Dumbledore told him. “To answer your question, Harry, I must take you back to Halloween 1981 and explain how it is that your brother survived the Killing Curse.”

“Professor, it may not have been-“

“Charlus has told me what Lady Voldemort told you down in the chamber, Harry.” Dumbledore said. “That is a most interesting turn of events but after what took place a number of days ago now, I think that we can doubtlessly assume now for certain that it was indeed Charlus who survived Voldemort’s attack.

“You see, Harry, your mother died that night in an effort to save both you and your twin. Your mother stood tall and looked Lady Voldemort dead in the eye. She refused to step aside and allow Voldemort to strike the two of you down and that, I am certain, is what allowed Charlus to survive the curse. Though, in actuality, it would have done the same for you had you indeed taken the curse as Lady Voldemort seemed to have initially intended.”

Harry was confused. “How would that make any difference, sir?”

“Because, Harry, there are certain magics outside the scope of that which we teach at this wonderful school. Two of those magics are love and sacrifice. Now, The Ministry of Magic would doubtlessly want me to hide the existence of both from you but in my estimation, you, perhaps even more than your brother, have the right to know. 

“Sacrificial magic is some of the oldest magic in existence. It is limitless in its applications but its few principles are centred in balance. If one wishes to achieve a goal, they must sacrifice something equal to or greater than that goal.”

“So my mother intentionally died to save us? Like… a ritual, or something?”

“Goodness no, my boy.” Dumbledore told him and Harry frowned.

“But… sir, isn’t all magic fuelled by and dependent upon intent?”

The old man’s eyes twinkled. “You really are brilliant for your age, Harry. In most cases, you are indeed correct. In the case of that night, however, there was more at play. I spoke already of a second branch of magic, that being love. Love is a magic that is a mystery to even the greatest minds we have at our disposal. It is my belief that the love your mother had for the both of you served as the catalyst that night in the place of intent.

“When Lily Potter refused to step aside and refused to allow Voldemort to harm either one of her children, choosing instead to give her own life, that did it. Her sacrifice cast a protection over your brother that was so powerful that Lady Voldemort’s curse could not touch him. Even now, ten and a half years later, her body was vaporized by mere contact with your brother. That, I believe, is how we can be certain that your brother is indeed the survivor, Harry. Lily gave her life and as great as it was, it was only one life. Sacrificial magic has its roots in balance, as I have said. She only sacrificed one life, therefore, she could only save one life.”

Ringing silence ran through the office for over a minute before Harry pulled his racing thoughts and emotions under control enough to speak. “So… it definitely is Charlus then?”

“Yes Harry, it is most definitely Charlus.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether or not he should feel relieved or angry at that. It would have set him apart, it would have overshadowed all of them — put him above. But at the same time, if Dumbledore knew this now, Voldemort probably did too. Personally, he preferred not being at the top of her hit list. 

“Voldemort definitely is gone then?” he asked, sticking with that train of thought.

Dumbledore sighed, suddenly looking every bit his age. “That, my dear boy, depends on your definition of the word gone. She has been vanquished once more, certainly, but just as certainly, she is still out there; terribly weak, bodiless, powerless, but very much alive in a twisted, warped sense of the word.”

“How did she survive in the first place, sir? If Charlus only survived the killing curse because of our mother’s sacrifice, then why is Voldemort alive?”

A tumult of emotions flashed so fast in the Headmaster’s eyes that Harry could not catch them. He did catch enough to know that whatever the Headmaster said next would almost certainly be a lie. “On that, Harry, we can only wonder. Rest assured, however, it is something I fully intend on discovering.”

Harry knew it would be pointless to press any further. Dumbledore had some personal reason for not telling Harry and that was the end of it.

“I have one more question, sir.”

“Just the one? Go on then, Harry; time is of the essence.”

“Yes sir. Why was Voldemort so insistent on killing me and Charlus? I had always assumed it was to kill our parents, but she didn’t kill my father and now you’re telling me that she gave my mother the option to step aside.” Technically, Dumbledore had only implied that, but it was not exactly difficult to read between the lines.

Dumbledore smiled sadly at him. “You are very perceptive for your age. As a matter of fact, you are marginally too perceptive. I am truly sorry, Harry, but I can not tell you that. I do know and one day, when you’re older, when I think you are ready, you shall know too, but today is not that day.” 

And again, Harry knew that no matter what he said, it would make absolutely no difference. “Yes sir.”

“Before you dine on our lovely feast that is due to begin momentarily,” Dumbledore told him, and suddenly, a feeling of dread filled Harry as Dumbledore was suddenly stiff as a board and more business like than Harry had ever seen him, “there is one last order of business we must cover.”


“I am speaking of your living arrangements, Harry.”

Harry bit back his confusion. “There’s nothing to discuss, Headmaster. My father has already told me that I will be staying with him this summer.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said, looking sheepish and suddenly, Harry knew with utter terror what was about to happen, “I am afraid, Harry, that James spoke without knowing the full scope of that decision.”

“You can’t send me back!” Harry snapped, kicking back his chair as he leapt to his feet, all composure gone as his heart rate tripled. Gone was the calm, slick mask that years with the Dursleys and a year in the Snake pit had forged. Gone was the polite boy that greeted all of his teachers. In his place was a boy fuelled by the desperation of a life of abuse and a small, desperate window of escape. “That’s not your decision! James Potter is my father, my guardian! James Potter-“

“Has agreed during our meeting earlier today upon hearing my thoughts on the matter that it would be best to send you back to Privet Drive.”

“HE WHAT?!” Harry’s eyes were glowing now and magic pulsed around him. Casually, Dumbledore allowed his hand to drift ever closer to his wand. “Do you have any idea what they did to me?! Do you have any idea what my childhood was like? Do you have any idea-“

“As a matter of fact, I have at least vague assumptions on the matter.” Dumbledore said calmly. “Harry, please calm down or I will have to stun you; this is, I am afraid to say, not a matter I am willing to budge on.”

“You have no idea-“

“No, in truth I do not. However, I will insure that there are measures in place this summer to make sure that Petunia and her husband do not repeat the sins of the past.” Dumbledore’s eyes were rather watery as he looked at Harry. “I am sorry, my boy, but there are matters you do not understand. There are powerful wards protecting Privet Drive forged directly from the power of your mother’s sacrifice. If you do not return there in the summers, the wards will crumble. If Lady Voldemort is to return, it is essential that Charlus has Privet Drive as a backup-“

“So you’d throw me to the wolves to protect your golden boy?”

Dumbledore did not waver. “It is not merely about Charlus, Harry. If Charlus falls, our hopes of finishing Lady Voldemort once and for all diminish greatly. I am sorry, Harry, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and you have my most sincere promise that I will ensure nothing like what has happened in the past takes place this summer. I am sorry, my boy, but it is for the Greater Good.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off to the Feast. If you do not wish to attend in light of this rather nasty surprise, I do of course understand.” Dumbledore was almost to the door when he paused and turned. “And Harry, please do not try and flee the property this summer. I will know if you leave.” And with that bombshell, Dumbledore was gone. 


June 20th 1992.

The Hogwarts Express. 

6:25 PM.

Harry had spent much of his last nearly two weeks at Hogwarts in a state of near depression. He had not found it in himself to care about the wards, nor the fact that Slytherin had lost the house cup to Gryffindor as a result of Dumbledore giving out a ridiculous number of points to Charlus, Ron, Hermione and Neville while completely failing to mention Harry. He had not managed to care, either, that his relationship with his brother had completely fallen apart as the boy now glared hatefully at Harry any time they saw each other.

Daphne had cornered him two nights after the fiasco and made him spill what was on his mind. When she had been told, she was downright murderous and near tearful with fury. She had offered to house him for the summer without hesitation, as had Blaise and Tracey once Daphne had told them, but Harry had turned all of them down. He did not want to know what would happen to them if the most powerful wizard in the world realized Harry was living with them. His list of friends was not exactly long. Dumbledore would know it was one of those three, and it wouldn’t be difficult to have James formally accuse each family in turn to justify a search of each property. No, there was no way around it. 

He could tell as well that his three friends had practically been dying to ask him what had gone on the night he had disappeared. Still, all three of them had the sense not to once the revelations about his summer arrangements had come to light.

Now, the Hogwarts Express was pulling into King’s Cross Station. Harry had not participated in any of the games his friends had. He had been completely quiet for the entire ride. For the last hour, however, he had grudgingly allowed Daphne to maintain a vice like grip on his hand. Not that she had given him much of a choice. 

The compartment door chose that moment to slide open as Ron’s older brother, Percy Weasley stepped in. “End of year grades.” he said, passing them each their file. “Please be aware that we are arriving in London.” and he left. 

Daphne let go of Harry’s hand long enough for him to read his grades, which were the first thing all day that had managed to hold his attention.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We thank you for your dedication this year and would like to sincerely congratulate you on all of your achievements. The entirety of the Hogwarts staff is eager to see what shall come next.

Yours truly,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.

On the next piece of parchment, the truth was held.

Passing Grades:

O = Outstanding.

E = Exceeds Expectations.

A = Acceptable.

Failing Grades:

P = Poor.

D = Dreadful.

T = Troll.

Harry James Potter Has Achieved:

Astronomy – O-.

Charms – O+.

Defense Against The Dark Arts – O+.

Herbology – O.

History of Magic – O.

Potions – O.

Transfiguration – O+.

End of Year Rankings:


1 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor. 

2 – Patil, Padma – Ravenclaw.

3 – Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

4 – Patil, Parvati – Gryffindor.

5 – Zabini, Blaise – Slytherin.


1 – Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

2 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor.

3 – Greengrass, Daphne – Slytherin.

4 – Patil, Padma – Ravenclaw. 

5 – Potter, Charlus – Gryffindor. 

Defense Against The Dark Arts:

1 – Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

2 – Potter, Charlus – Gryffindor.

3 – Nott, Theodore – Slytherin.

4 – Greengrass, Daphne – Slytherin.

5 –  Zabini, Blaise – Slytherin.


1 – Longbottom, Neville – Gryffindor.

2 – Greengrass, Daphne – Slytherin.

3 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor.

4 –  Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

5 – Davis, Tracey – Slytherin.

History of Magic: 

1 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor.

2 – Parkinson, Pansy – Slytherin.

3 – Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

4 – Li, Su – Ravenclaw.

5 – Zabini, Blaise – Slytherin.


1 – Greengrass, Daphne – Slytherin.

2 – Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

3 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor.

4 – Malfoy, Draco – Slytherin.

5 – Davis, Tracey – Slytherin.


1 – Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

2 – Greengrass, Daphne – Slytherin.

3 – Potter, Charlus – Gryffindor.

4 – Nott, Theodore – Slytherin.

5 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor.


1 –  Potter, Harry – Slytherin.

2 – Granger, Hermione – Gryffindor

3 – Greengrass, Daphne – Slytherin.

4 – Patil, Padma – Ravenclaw.

5 – Nott, Theodore – Slytherin.

“I did it.” Harry said, a small bubble of happiness breaking through his wall of oppressive despair.

“Did what?” Blaise asked, scanning the rankings with raised eyebrows.

“I tied the record for most O+’s ever for a first year.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Tracey, looking at Harry with pure adoration. “What subjects?”

“Charms, Defense Against The Dark Arts and Transfiguration.”

Blaise whistled. “I’ve never heard of anyone getting three, let alone in first year. That’s impressive.” he sneered at Daphne. “You managed it in Potions, I presume?”

“Yes.” she answered curtly, glancing at Harry’s marks with a roll of her eyes. “You got an O in History? You don’t even come to History?”

Harry cracked a weak smile in spite of himself. “This brilliant brain, remember?” he asked, referencing her statement from all the way back in September. 

She snorted. “I had forgotten I ever said that.”

“I didn’t.”

In spite of themselves, all of Harry’s friends were in stitches laughing, even him.


#4 Privet Drive.

Two Hours Later:

After a miserable Harry Potter, back at Privet Drive for the summer, had unpacked his trunk, he found that something was giving off an odd, bluish light. For a second, he thought it was the parchment connected to his brother’s but it wasn’t. It was, to his great shock and worry, the book that Voldemort had given him while disguised as Hurst.

Cautiously he opened it to the first page, where words were suddenly written.

Hello Harry,

I’m not exactly sure why the last Hogwarts Defense professor gave you this book but I have managed to get a hold of its connected partner when Hogwarts sold off all of the old Professor’s things for their charitable fund. I must confess, I find myself rather impressed with the connective enchantments and am rather pleased to speak with you.

I have some friends rather close to Hogwarts, albeit I am currently not in Britain, though I did grow up there. I have heard some rumours about your rather outstanding accolades during your first year and I find myself most intrigued. 

If you have any questions, I have spent much of my life travelling far and wide learning the secrets of magic and I would love to help you on your way.

Write back soon, 



June 20th 1992.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The Headmaster’s Office.

9:00 PM.

Albus sighed as he looked up from his work and gazed at the clock. Young Harry Potter would be back at the mercy of his relatives by this point and in spite of himself, Albus had spent much time thinking of the boy over the past week and a half.

James had been rather against the idea of sending Harry back; not even the blood wards had been enough to convince him. Albus had been given little choice but to reveal yet another snippet of the prophecy. 

James had been rightfully furious to know that Albus had only told him the first stanza of it over ten years ago, but he had quickly seen reason upon hearing the third stanza, even if Albus had still kept most of the prophecy to himself. Of course, James did not know that, but he now knew the danger of keeping the Potter twins together now that their relationship was so strained. According to the third stanza of Sybil Trelawney’s Great Prophecy, that mistake could start the beginning of the end. 

“Only when the twins’ bond is broken by the cruelty of betrayal will The Eternal War come to pass, and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives. As The Eternal War nears its crescendo, darkness shall suppress all light and only when the fabric of Death is torn to the wayside shall The Saviour make his final stand.”

Author’s Endnote:

And on that absolute bombshell, year 1 is in the books!

I apologize for the cliffhanger of all cliffhangers, but again, it’s only because I love you guys 🙂

Before this turns into a thank you letter as I’m sure it will, I would like to touch on one thing very quickly.

I am sure people will dislike Harry going after Charlus. I did try and make this clear in the chapter but I will lay it out in very simple terms here. 

A, Harry was not going off looking for a confrontation with the agent of Voldemort, he simply knew it was a possibility. His ideal scenario was to get to Charlus before he encountered Voldemort or her agent at all. Obviously, that did not happen, but if you’ve kept up with this story, you’ll know that Harry’s plans don’t always go to plan because he is eleven and far from perfect, unlike many Slytherin Harry stories I see. 

And B, Harry is a Slytherin, but he is not the basic personification of a Slytherin. I see so many Slytherin Harry stories in which I swear the only traits he possesses are those of Slytherin house, which is completely ridiculous when you look at it from a sociological and psychological perspective. Aside from his advanced intellect and such, I am going for a semi realistic portrayal in terms of his character breakdown. His dominant traits most of the time are his Slytherin ones, but Harry definitely does have a bit of Gryffindor in him, even though he is loathed to admit it. This will be an ongoing theme as he will eventually have to internalize this and slowly temper it. There will come a point where it is practically non-existent but if I want to develop his character through the use of that characteristic, I must first establish that said characteristic exists in the first place. 

I I 

Thank you all so much for the support on year 1! I know that I have said on a number of occasions that I am blown away, but it is true. Nearly 2k followers in less than four months is absolutely absurd! I honestly never expected this story to take off in the way that it has, so I am super appreciative for all of your guys’ support and reviews over this first year. Trust me when I say this is only the beginning and it only gets better from here! The further this story progresses, the less and less I will follow HP canon, so I truly cannot wait for the point where I pretty much scrap canon altogether.

Speaking of continuity, all seven years WILL BE POSTED UNdER THIS STORY ON FANFICTION.NET! I WILL NOT be splitting it up into multiple books, so there is no need to worry about keeping up with the story. If you are following this story, you will get updates for year 2 and beyond!

Please read and review. 

PS: The first chapter of year 2 will be posted next Saturday, June 13th 2020 at approximately 3:00 PM EST.

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