18/04/2005
Threads of Yesterday
I never knew my parents. I don't mean this in the context that I never met them. I mean that I never knew them. I was a year old when they were murdered, and at one year old you don't have the same capacity to know someone as you do when you are older. You are still at that stage where a parent means food, or a hug, or someone to change your nappy. You don't notice, or are aware, of the little things, the mannerisms and the relationship your parents have. Many people take this for granted. Most of the people I went to Hogwarts with complained about their parents day and night; Ron complained enormously about his Mum, as did I on a few occasions, and so did a few others.
I was a year old when I felt my parents die in front of me – for I was in my crib and could see naught but the ceiling – dying so that I could live, and since I was 11 that has haunted me. To be honest I am glad that I didn't know the details of their death when I still thought I was a muggle, for it would have made life a lot worse than it turned out to be, living with the Dursley's.
Throughout the years there have been many rumours about my parents and I, whispered conversations behind my back and of course those articles by Rita Skeeter, cumulating in that famous one about how I went mad and had to be confined in St Mungo's because of an article that "proved" that my parents were in fact a slut and a half dementor (though how even she came up with that, I will never understand!).
I remember the first time I asked Hagrid about my parents and how over the years
I have come to understand them and know them through retellings of their love and their lives. I write this now for my children and my grandchildren to read, so that they may come to understand and appreciate the legacy that we continue.
All through my childhood, from whence I arrived at the Dursley's until that fate filled day I met Rubeus Hagrid – Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and now illustrious teacher of Care of Magical Creatures and husband to Olympe Maxime – I was unaware that my parents had died in such an horrific incident, and never knew anything about them because of the rule of 'don't ask questions' that restricted my knowledge, plus the fact that Aunt Petunia obviously detested my father and was jealous and frightened of my mother.
Unfortunately, I was also curiously prone to questions about my parents' appearances. Since Uncle Vernon abhorred any mentions of my family – because of their link with the Wizarding world – and Aunt Petunia was jealous, scared and repulsed by her sister, my mother, there was consequently no photographs or means of finding out what my parents must have looked like.
Of course I knew that my messy black hair and green eyes had to come from somewhere. The hair was obvious as I couldn't imagine having a sister or a mother with my hair, which made me think that my eyes were my mothers – however, such deducible thinking isn't often applied by 11 year old and younger kids who are too preoccupied with surviving to the next day without being picked on by said relatives.
Before I entered the Wizarding world, I had had to make my own deductions about what said parents looked like. Aunt Petunia is a blonde, bony woman with harsh pale eyes and an angry demeanour, which is fitting since the flower Petunia itself represents anger and resentment. Since my Mum was her sister – and I still don't know who was older, back to the 'no questions' thing again – I obviously had tried to place my mother as being blonde, with cornflower blue eyes and being quite slim, but something had always felt wrong, as I couldn't have inherited both my Dad's hair and eyes, could I?
Dad had obviously had black hair, but from there on the rest was up to my imagination and the green spurts of light that always haunted the inside of my eyelids. Though one thing was for sure, I got my bad eyesight from Dad.
Example: "Petunia, what do you mean that…boy…needs new glasses? They fit well…I only bought him new ones 4 years ago, he can make do with them. It's not my ruddy fault if his imbecile of a father gave him eyes that can't function, though I wouldn't have expected any better of him". Of course, that was back when I was about 6, when Uncle Vernon still occasionally talked about my parents, back when I hadn't started to do strange things, back when I was still being put through the process of having the magic squashed out of me.
Yes, it wasn't until I met Hagrid and he said to me "las' time I saw yeh, yeh was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes" that I actually realised that here was someone who could clue me in on all those little things that had pestered me and built up inside until I had written them all down one day, days before my 11th birthday, in a notebook currently residing within the insulation stuffing on the underside of the second-to-last stair in the cupboard under the stairs.
And just to be on the safe side, I had also placed a few spiders' eggs in with it to keep it company, lest Aunt Petunia go snooping. Of course, now that I had the chance to ask certain things, it seemed my brain decided to rebel and subsequently all these things just floated away as if I didn't need to know them.
I suppose from then on until I started Hogwarts, the amazement overwhelmed me and I didn't take any chances to ask about Mum and Dad. And then when I did start Hogwarts, there was barely enough time for me to breathe, let alone actually ask people things.
The most annoying thing I can think of though is the amount of times in First Year, that people just had to tell me, as if it was a matter of life and death, that I had my Mother's eyes. The first time I heard it from Hagrid it was all right as it went someway to repairing the picture I had of my Mum. She still could have been blonde, but at least my eyes were like hers, and suddenly I didn't feel as if Aunt Petunia was anything like the mother I had lost.
The 25th of December 1991 was the first Christmas that I can actually remember being happy and receiving gifts, since my first Christmas with my parents is so far back in my memory and evades me still. That year I received my invisibility cloak, my Dad's invisibility cloak, later discovering that Dumbledore had sent it. It was my first proper link to my parents and it still means a lot today. It is a priceless heirloom, made all the more special by the fact that my father treasured it and used it when he was my age. To know my father had worn it and touched it and put it to good use made it become a bit more than a comfort blanket.
And then of course, as a direct result of receiving the cloak, there was the Mirror of Erised, and the first time I saw my parents, actually laid eyes on them. They were just a picture, but it was the first time I saw them as they were. I saw that my Mum did indeed pass on her eyes to me, and that I did have my Dad's hair, as did most of the males in that line! I saw that my Dad had these deep hazel eyes, full of sparkly laughter and these laugh lines round his mouth, and maybe, just maybe, the hint of a dimple in his right cheek.
And Mum. Her hair was never blonde, never a cold, fake, bitter blonde, but a dark, vibrant, warm red, curling softly over her shoulders, not as straight as the edge on Aunt Petunia's favourite bread knife. She was quite a bit shorter than Dad who was really quite exceptionally tall, but she was taller than my tiny Aunt, though still quite petite. My Mum was never bony, or horse faced, she was slim and her brows were not drawn together as if in conference, but smooth and unconcerned. She held the spark of laughter in the corner of each eye, but the hint of a flame of anger resided in the depths of her green orbs. There were the faint freckles lining her nose that upturned at the end, and a small scar on her chin.
And they held hands, and looked at each other, waved at me, and shed tears, and even though I told myself that they weren't my parents and didn't hold any shred of my parents' being, I felt like I had seen a side of them, one that I would treasure forever.
And then at the end of the year, after fighting Lord Voldemort and being reminded of the sacrifice they had performed, I was gifted with the leather photo album Hagrid had put together for me and that helped, especially since every Wizard photo taken will capture the event forever whilst giving the subjects free reign to act as they would have done and to interact with the watchers a little. This is one of the best things I have ever received and the one possession that means the most to me, next to the Marauders Map and Dad's Invisibility cloak, but before even my wand.
Now, I can just watch my parents laugh and cry and have fun at their wedding day. And I can also see Sirius and remember him that way too, for he is the person I miss most, after my parents; actually probably as much as my parents, for I got to know him and he was taken as abruptly from my grasp. Now I've got Remus and I hope he doesn't go anywhere for a long, long time; which he shouldn't anyway since his Werewolf blood keeps him young and healthy, and he has more energy than myself a lot of the time.
Also during my first year, I discovered that I had also inherited my Father's love – and if I can boast for a second – his talent for the game of Quidditch. Becoming the youngest Seeker in a century made me euphoric and anxious at the same time. I was euphoric because it furthermore cemented my place in the Wizarding world and it showed that I was my Father's son, and the only thing that could have made that moment better would have been to play on my Dad's broom, but that was impossible; beyond anyone's grasp.
I was saddened at the same time because I knew my parents would have been proud of me. Mum would have fussed and worried but been glad for me and Dad would have been over the moon. I missed that my parents didn't see me gain my position on the team they had once supported. For it was here that I discovered that my parents had been Gryffindor's like myself and that Dad had also represented our House as a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team from 1972-78. Though it did raise my spirits a bit by making me realise that I had beaten Dad by getting on the Quidditch team a whole year younger.
In my second year at Hogwarts, I didn't learn much more about my parents. I just had the feeling of loathing of my father and myself reinforced by an oh-so-helpful Snape, who was elated (maybe for the first time in his life) to supply this service, which makes about – wait, 7 years at Hogwarts plus… – 20 years of service since my First year. I must see about getting an award for loyal disgust of the Potter line…
By my third year, I had already had a bemusing episode with the Ministry, fully suspecting to be thrown into Azkaban for defending my parents against that whale of an 'Aunt Marge'. But alas, I was sent to Hogwarts as if it was a punishment, imaginary tail between my legs (though if it had been Dudley, he would have had the faint sensation of having a tail where it had once been…).
This year presented a whole new challenge for an orphan with guardians who are unwilling to help at all – Hogsmeade Permission Slip. If my parents had only been around, I would have been off to Hogsmeade with the rest of them, not stuck and having to find an alternate route with the Marauders Map and my Dad's invisibility cloak. Of course I hadn't had the Marauders Map for very long and despite all of Hermione's niggling about handing it over to McGonagall, she did actually throw herself delightedly into researching who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs were.
Alas, to her infuriation, it wasn't through independent research, but through actually talking to the MWP part of the Marauders that we found the answers. By the time that it emerged that the Map had been created by the four friends, I already cherished it with all my heart as it held a part of James Potter, and it would help me to carry on his tradition – to make as much trouble as was feasible, which I believe I duly managed.
This was the year that I met Professor R. J. Lupin, my newest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who succeeded to the position after the death of my first and the amnesia of the second. And, though for a second there I believed that this rather decent chap had betrayed me by consorting with the murderer of my parents, certain things came to pass and you can be sure those that entered the Whomping Willow came out changed forever, or at least for a while considering that Peter was human; Sirius was in man form; Snape was unconscious; Remus was a big fuzzy furry wolfie and Ron had a broken leg.
And from then on in, after Hermione and I had fully appreciated the uses of a Time Turner and become fugitives by helping an innocent-Sirius-Black-who-was-never-really-innocent-because-how-could-a-Marauder-ever-be-innocent-as-if-but-was-actually-innocent-of-the-crime-he-was-being-booked-for-which-is-amazing-if-you-think-about-it-really-really-hard. Of course the evidence for that is a quote from a secret meeting that a son-of-a-former-Marauder innocently overheard, "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course - exceptionally bright, in fact - but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers –" nicked off of my late friend Minnie of course!
Add to this the fact that this was the first time that I ever heard the near enough absolute truth about that which happened concerning Halloween when I was a year old. I may have been angered and confused and emotionally distressed but this was one of the first memories I divulged to the keeping of my first pensieve.
Oh, and I got my Firebolt that year – Quidditch has to be mentioned somewhere. This was also the year that I learnt how to do the Patronus spell and it emerged afterwards that because my Patronus took a stag form, my Dad did live on, in me, because the form your Patronus takes is the form that is best suited and emotionally suited to protecting you. Of course, Sirius was a bit miffed but all in all I think he was glad my Patronus didn't take the form of Wormtail, or the minister for magic or Albus Dumbledore.
This year the main problems were the Dementors, who suffocated me in cold and fear every time I came up against them, which was the main reason that I asked Professor Lupin to teach me to defend myself against them in the first place. It was the first time I consciously remembered everything that happened that day and the first time I actually properly heard my parents' voices. If it hadn't been Dementors that brought that memory back, I'm sure I would have kept going back. Unfortunately pensieves cannot hold that memory; it is embedded so far down in my memory bank and protected so much, it seems that my mind is rebelling on that point.
Fourth year was the start of all the major troubles, the first time that politics started to show how corrupted they were and when that damned woman Rita Skeeter first showed her full interest in me. This was the first year that I emotionally and physically needed someone to lean on and the poor substitute that presented itself was Molly Weasley, who did turn on me in the middle of it all due to the blasted Daily Prophet. Though no offence is aimed at Mrs. Weasley, I really could have done with my own parents alive; in forms that weren't rotted or not substantially there. I would have welcomed my mother shouting at me and my father trying to encourage me on whilst being subjected to the glares of a wrathful red head. It really wasn't coincidental that I became friends with a redheaded family, was it?
It was the year in which Professor Alastor Moody, the former Auror, who was really Bartemius Crouch Jnr. in disguise, taught us all about the Unforgivable Curses. I will never forget the image of that spider dying in a flash of emerald green, the same as my eye colour.
Of course the two best things by far this year were the Quidditch World Cup and the memory of Malfoy as a bouncing ferret – which incidentally will be the first memory I use for my Patronus from now on. I say the two best things, because I know my Father would have loved to have gone to the Quidditch World Cup ,and probably did in years gone by, and that if my parents had been there during the 'Ferret' episode – as we've dubbed it – Dad would've been encouraging Moody on or trying to take over, and Mum would've been protesting, though secretly relishing the fact that the Slytherin was being hurt – though it would've been Snape if it had happened in their time.
The most harrowing memory though is of Cedric dying and then later, during Priori Incantatem, Cedric and my parents emerging from the tip of Lord Voldemort's wand. To know that they were only the essences of my parents does not stop the fact that I was able to speak to my parents for a second. I have always wondered whether my Dad, or even Sirius, had a portrait done, being purebloods, but if there ever was one of Sirius it was destroyed and I haven't found one of Dad (or Mum) yet… I have found normal paintings but not the moving, talking portraits.
Fifth year was the hardest year, harder than 6th and 7th, even though then I was battling Voldemort more openly whilst multitasking to do my homework and study for my NEWTs and also to keep Snape off of my back.
I got expelled, then suspended, had to make an appearance at the Wizengamot, got furious at Dumbledore, met the toad that is Umbridge and ended up cleared of all charges.
And what does any of this have to do with my parents? I could easily just write a fact sheet but unfortunately it has always been hard for me to find out things about my parents. And my experiences at Hogwarts directly correspond to some of the things I found out and sometimes it helps to know how I found them out. Plus, I'm the author, I can do what I like, and what I like is to use this as a type of pensieve and memoir, and since I am directly linked to Lily and James Potter, being their son, I think my involvement is needed quite a bit.
Anyway, during my stay at 12 Grimmauld Place I learnt a lot about Sirius and his family history and met Tonks, his cousin's daughter. If I hadn't have learnt all this, I would possibly have been even more upset at the end of the year. A lot happened in Fifth year, a lot of it bad, and quite a bit never to be mentioned again: think Cho.
Not becoming a prefect was a big deal to me because I was aware that my Mum had been one and both my parents had been the Heads in their 7th year (if I wasn't their son, I would do as Sirius did and speculate a lot about what happened there…), so I assumed that Dad had been a prefect.
Of course, in Fifth year I realised that you don't have to be a prefect to become a Head, and that Dad was never a prefect, 'cos Remus was and that was quite a relief to know. I no longer felt like I had failed my parents.
The Thestrals played a big part that year. They showed that I had seen death, and they were allies in our escape to the Ministry. And I'm glad I can see them, because for me it means that every time I see them I have to face up to my fears and my memories, as with Dementors when I have to face up to fear and the death of my parents and their screams.
I guess my temper did play an immense part in procuring me detentions. As Sirius said, "It's one of the things Lily was famous for", and I guess that up until then it hadn't had a reason to really make an appearance, for Sirius also said that "Lily didn't start to get really pissed at James until the end of fourth year when all of a sudden peacemaker Lily was gone in place of a fireball, and this was when James fell hard."
Though I suppose Umbridge did deserve it, it's not like she was actually properly human. I wonder whether she had such a thing against half bloods because she was in fact half toad? Anyway, Remus told me that she was in 7th year when they (who else could I mean?) were ickle firsties. Apparently she missed out on the Head Girl spot, which went to Amelia Bones, wonder whether that's why she hates Dumbledore so? Furthermore, Remus said that Fudge missed on the Head Boy slot that year too, Remus said that the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were pissed that year (Umbridge was such Slytherin material. Fudge a Hufflepuff!)
Then of course there was the DA, that I think I agreed to only to spite Umbridge and Fudge, and to know that Sirius and my Dad and Remus would've done the same thing, and relished the chance to break the rules and do something good at the same time. And the Room of Requirement – if I hadn't been forced to read Hogwarts, a History by Hermione for NEWTs, I would have bet anything that the Marauders had found a way to enchant the room to make it what it is. Of course, they couldn't but it was a nice theory for a little while.
And that little thing called a lifetime ban from Quidditch? Well, due to Umbridge being permanently housed in St Mungo's (roommate to a certain Gilderoy Lockhart, winner of Witch Weekly's most Charming Smile award) it was ruled by the Ministry that any actions taken by her were void, which – to the relief of Gryffindor and myself – meant that I could once again play Quidditch. It also meant that the Werewolf legislation that she was trying to pass was determined void also, as the Ministry decided that she wasn't of sound mind to begin with.
The biggest blow to my all out war with Snape was reliving one of his memories, in which it seems my Dad was a bit of a bugger. For the first time I almost believed Snape. Especially when my Mum said, "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,". She had the most determined look on her face, like Fred and George did sometimes – guess it must a red headed thing. Especially when she started to list all the things that were wrong with Dad; seems she was the Hermione of her day!
After speaking with Remus and Sirius later I felt a bit better about Dad, because I suppose things were different then. The only thing I didn't say to them, and which I regret not telling Sirius, is that I think the name "Snivellus" is the most ingenious thing ever.
The worst day of my life whilst I was at Hogwarts was the day of the Ministry of Magic incident. When Sirius died, it nearly killed me. Sirius was my link to the past, my Dad's best friend. Saying that, it almost destroyed Remus too… If I didn't know better, I might think there was something there but I don't know. And later when I wanted to kill Bellatrix and couldn't is the moment I berated myself over, until the day in 7th year that Neville and I finally proved that things do get back to you. Luckily by then Fudge had been replaced and we didn't get in too much trouble. Must be the Marauder blood.
Sixth year was spent apprehensive, being stuffed full of knowledge and extra bits that the teachers were giving us just to prepare us for the upcoming war. Best memory of sixth year is the day Umbridge was put on trial in front of the Wizengamot and was suspended. However, she didn't get punished, as it was deemed insanity was punishment enough.
Seventh year was a year of newfound freedom and actual happiness. There were quite a few downs but by then I knew what I had to do and nothing was being held back for my 'peace of mind'. I officially joined the Order of the Phoenix after a series of blackmail pictures found their way into the Quibbler and Daily Prophet… I became happier in myself and felt like my parents hadn't made a mistake by sacrificing themselves for me. After all, they could have just given me over and had other children. But instead they decided to do what was right, and die for me; I've finally decided that I've made it worth their while.
And whilst I know that Sirius is with them and Dumbledore is learning the ropes there, I know that I will have Lupin for a while because the great thing about Wizards is that we live for a very long time, so I'll probably know my great-great-grandchildren before I die. And I have no doubt that people will be sad and that they won't be glad, as they once might have been.
Of course my pet ferret might be glad, but the blonde creature has never forgiven me for finding him and gifting him to my kids as a pet. Unfortunately for him, I set up a few restrictions so that the kids would be safe. How amusing was it for Ron and I to find that his actual Animagus transformation was a ferret – I wonder how much Moody can see with that eye! And of course it was down to Hermione finding the spell that has left him incarcerated in that particular form, though she did refuse on principal to perform it and did actually try to obliviate the incantation from our minds. However, I wasn't as reserved! But this was done of course after Malfoy had been convicted of being a Death Eater and so I felt it was the lesser of two evils.
Sirius and Remus always did answer my questions when and where they could. Of course I could confirm what my parents looked like in their fifth year through Snape's memory but it did become increasingly hard for them to answer particular questions, and after Sirius died, I think Remus became a bit frantic that he'd forget about my parents and Sirius, now that it was only him left. So he started to put his memories into a pensieve and we locked that in my vault at Hogwarts. My proper vault, for until I was 17 I kept using my personal vault, which I had my key for. When I turned 17 though, as I was classified as an adult, I found out that my vault was only a portion of my inheritance, a vault that received a set amount of money each year for me.
And so I discovered the use of the Potter family vault and all the paintings in there. Including a set of paintings: one with my Mum, one with my Dad, one with me as a baby and one of the three of us together. They now reside in my house, which I rebuilt on the site in Godric's Hollow.
And then of course when I turned 18, the coming of age in the Muggle world, I received all of Mum's muggle money, her inheritance and the rest of her belongings that Petunia had been err… living in since Mum died. Apparently the family home of 4 Privet Drive had been gifted to the younger daughter when my Grandparents died. Though I think I was nice enough, only making them pay half of what the house was worth, it's not like I ever intended to use it.
And then Sirius' will came through after having been deliberated over for 3 years and everything was split 50:50, for Remus and I. And Remus got the house because I insisted. Though we all chipped in to help clean. And he still is a frequent reminiscer and visitor here at Godric's Hollow.
After that I didn't really need a job, but I settled for getting qualified as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and fitted in the Auror training in any spare time. At the moment I'm co-coach of the Chudley Cannons and occasionally I play Seeker, though after playing two World Cups and winning it did get a bit much. Ron unsurprisingly upped the ante and made Keeper (as well as co-coach).
Looking back on the events that are bound together as the story of my life, I can honestly say I don't regret anything. In hindsight I don't even resent the death of my parents, because I know that if they hadn't died for me, then I probably would be dead or if I was alive, everything would be far different and I wouldn't be the person I am today.
And now that I have my own family and kids, I know what my parents must have felt for me and for each other. It has made me realise a lot of things and I am determined to bring my kids up to be proud of being a Potter and to not care about the fame. For it still follows me, unfortunately with the whole Boy-who-lived, and then Boy-who-lived-and-defeated-He-who-must-not-be-named, and then of course being the only Seeker to have remained undefeated throughout two World Cups and again Co-coach of the Chudley Cannons, so of course my kids will have to learn to deal with it though I wished they didn't have to.
And now that I know everything I could from Remus and others about my parents, I can safely say that if I died tomorrow I wouldn't miss or regret anything, though I know many would miss me and I wouldn't see my kids grow up. But for the first time in my lifetime I am content, and nothing can take that feeling away from me.