**Author's Note**
So…hi, guys. I enjoy me some Harry Potter. Love the books, dig the movies, thoroughly enjoy reading the things the wonderful citizens of this very FanFiction kingdom come up with. Figured I'd try my hand at it. We'll see if the writing talent people once claimed I had meshes with my over-active imagination to create something worth reading.
I fully enjoyed J.K.'s creation of, and focus on, Wizarding UK. I also like the fact that she left Wizarding America to the imagination, which allows me to run wild with it. So that's where most of this one will take place. If you dislike the idea, I somberly, yet insincerely, apologize. I'm here to have a blast with this. And I shall.
And yes…I do use myself and my adopted brothers as the main characters, and some actual family members, all with their permission and encouragement. I'm sure you won't hold it against me once you get to know everyone, us being so loveable and all. This tale is as canon-compliant as I can make it.
This particular post, I've called 'Origins'. It was going to be a prologue to the main story I'm working on, but in my eagerness to establish character backgrounds and such, I got a bit carried away. So here..we'll pretty much go with a series of chronological one-shots and time-jumps to lead us up to the main story, which I shall eventually publish. So…everybody ready?
*grabs Floo Powder*
Story-time!
*WHOOOSH!*

*Author's Disclaimer*
I don't own much of what you're about to read. Credit J.K. Rowling for creating this universe which I fully intend to frolic in while barely maintain a sense of decorum about it. Credit Tolkein, Lewis, Lee, andLucas, among many others, for helping mold my imagination. So if you see something you recognize…it's either from J.K.'s books, Warner Bros.' movies, Pottermore, or some other media. If you don't recognize a name or spell, though…there's a good chance that's mine. Feel free to drop a line and double-check with me.

~~Cloak & Wand: Origins~~

In The Beginning

In American wizarding society, in addition to the unfortunate rift between purebloods and muggle-borns, there sadly existed another historical class issue. That of race. African-American wizards were treated similar to their Muggle counter-parts for years. They took on the roles that house-elves held, as servants and laborers. Things only began to change parallel to the Muggle Civil War. Afterwards, they were still looked upon as lesser wizards, and pursued academics separately. The first World War was when major changes took place, as Black aurors and hit-wizards were enlisted and performed admirably. By the time of the Second World War, all American wizards and witches were legally equal. Changing people's attitudes, however, was not always so simple.
It was in this time that Elijah Freeman grew up. A young, African-American pureblood from Tennessee, he moved to Detroit with his wife Virginia, whose pureblood ancestry included Native American and Black blood-lines. In Detroit, they immediately established themselves as doctors, teachers, and philanthropists in both the Muggle and magical African-American community. The city's race riots in 1967 tested the magical community, and Elijah Freeman was at the forefront of the healing and peace-keeping. They became loved and respected amongst all wizards in the Detroit area, and had several daughters and sons, the youngest male named Louis. The Freeman prestige lay in their community work, intellect, and kind-heartedness, as opposed to their finances, a contrast with most pure-blood families.
Several thousand miles away and across the sea on the small island nation of Haiti, there lived a pureblood wizard named Francois St. Roc. The St. Roc family was respected on the island, and were members of the wizard elite. A teacher by trade, Francois met and married pure-blood Lucie Toussaint, who hailed from a family of scholars. Their union led to five extraordinary witches, the youngest being Marie. After some time, Francois and Lucie parted ways. Lucie continued to be a prominent magical scholar, while Francois remarried and had another daughter. He then went on to serve as the Royal Minister For Education. After some political turmoil, a group of political players made sure a surprised Francois became Wizarding King. Haiti's tumultuous history of dictators, tyrannical kings, and outside interference was in his mind, and he sought to make himself the last King Of Magical Haiti, though not in a ruler-for-life sense. He stunned the magical community by proposing to eliminate the throne altogether and instead gather 7 of the most prestigious, well-regarded magical families together to rule as a council. The odd power-sharing change was met with open arms, a surprise in itself. The surprises didn't stop there as one of the new council members, Max Toussaint, turned and promptly nominated Francois to be the first chairman of the council, citing his leadership and ideology of uplifting the Haitian people. There was some minor pushback, as Max was Francois' former brother-in-law, but it quickly passed. Haitian wizards and witches still affectionately referred to the St. Rocs as the royal family.

In the summer of 1985, in a quiet ceremony in rural Maryland, the two prominent pureblood wizarding families were joined. Louis, youngest male heir of the Freeman family of Detroit, Michigan, married Marie, one of the daughters of the noble Clan St. Roc, one of the most prominent families on the island nation of Haiti. Well-respected middle-class meets royalty and falls in love. The wizarding world marked the occasion in passing and life continued as normal. In the fall of 1986, the first child of the union was born. His proud parents named him Che, heir of the newly christened Most Noble House Of St. Roc-Freeman. Then in 1991, a daughter, Makeba, was added to the family. Followed in 1993 by a son, Tau.
The family lived outside of Washington D.C. for a few years, in relative anonymity. Louis worked in the field of magical communication, mostly in maintenance and research of the Floo Network for the American Department Of Magic. Marie was a teacher as her father had been before his political career. She worked at a Muggle elementary school during the day and tutored magical families in the late afternoons. Being a St. Roc-Freeman had its perks for the children. They were schooled at home well before the typical American wizarding school age of ten. Using their parents' wands, as the American Department of Magic looked the other way, they learned small spells, studied potions, and absorbed wizarding history.

In the summer of 1994, when the Quidditch World Cup occurred, there were whispers between the adults that the children couldn't help but notice. Something about a Dark Mark and trouble brewing. But things blew over, and life continued as normal. July of 1995 came around and things changed.
The St. Roc-Freeman family was sitting down for dinner one evening when a bell chimed in the hall. Louis rose an eyebrow, with a bemused expression. The bell was rung again, this time in a slightly insistent, musical pattern. Louis' jaw dropped, and he was on his feet almost instantly, drawing his wand as he strode to the front door. Marie rose from the table and hurried to join him in the greeting hall. Che left his baby brother and sister to their spaghetti, and curiously followed his parents at a distance. Louis, not noticing his son, waited until Marie had her wand leveled at the door, before waving his arm in a pattern. The door swung open to reveal a tall man in worn and dirty robes. He had unkempt long hair and a haunted look about him, and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he said, "Well, hello, chum!" "What are you doing here?" Louis asked without preamble, his wand pointed at the man's heart. The man raised his hands. "I'm only a messenger. Sent by an old, long-bearded, mutual friend of ours."
"Why didn't he come himself?" Louis asked. "He's a tad bit busy. I was sent to round up the fringe members of the club. Not going to invite me in, old friend?" Louis stared at him, and Che could tell his father was working something out in his mind.
"Clearly, you're innocent and telling the truth," Louis stated. The man blinked in surprise. "What? I don't have to explain everything and beg in my defense to you?" "If you had really betrayed them, you wouldn't show up here. You know I'd deal with you with no need for Aurors. And Dumbledore recently wrote to verify my address. Told me to expect a visit. Failed to mention it was from you. But he wouldn't send you if he still had any reason to suspect your loyalties." Louis suddenly seemed to become aware of the full scope of the scene before him. "Get in here," he muttered, lowering his wand. The man nodded again and stepped inside slowly, eyes on Marie's wand. Louis closed the door behind him, and motioned to his wife. "Marie, this is...an old comrade, from that work I did before we got married." "Good evening," the strange wizard said politely, bowing to Marie. Che knew his mom was struggling to be polite when she lowered her wand and asked, "Welcome. How can we help you this evening?" The man glanced at her, then fixed his gaze on Louis. "Like I said...I've been sent to round up the old guard. Dumbledore said to tell you: 'From the ashes…'" Louis looked as though someone had punched him in the chest. "Marie…I think Che followed us for his ice cream," Louis said pointedly. His wife cast a suspicious glance at the messenger, but then headed back to the dining room, directing her son in front of her.
Louis leaned against the nearest wall, his face ashen, hands shaking. "No. No, it can't be." "It is!" the man said earnestly. "Two nights ago! He..he used..Harry. And he killed that poor Diggory boy. The Triwizard Tournament was a trap. He's back. It's why Dumbledore is raising the Order. Fudge won't accept the facts. Snape even showed him his Mark!" "What kind of irresponsible…" Louis started, but the man shook his head. "Fudge is of the belief that Dumbledore is just trying to cause trouble, and that Potter is an attention-seeking glory-hound. But I didn't come here to discuss that oaf of a Minister. I'm to spread the word as quickly as possible." "Fairly quick of you to get all the way here in two days, considering you can't exactly travel in the open," Louis said, rubbing the bridge of his nose anxiously as he considered the ramifications of what he'd just been told.
The man said, "You're our only surviving American member…I decided this was one trip I had to make after everything that happened our first go around." Louis nodded. "We had some brief good times, the six of us boys in our little squad," he acknowledged. The man smiled a haunted smile. "Of the six, fortune seems to have smiled on you the most. One dead, one as good as dead, the outcast pauper, you, myself, and..." The man shuddered. "By the way…it was Peter all along. James switched, to throw the scent. Peter handed them to Voldemort. He's also the reason Voldemort's back in power..helped with the whole plan and restoring his body and all." Louis sighed. "Come on. Let me make you a plate. And one for the road, if you're gonna be out rounding up the gang." "Your cooking always was fantastic, for a Yank," the man said cheerfully. Louis grinned. "Yeah, cause you Brits have such sensitive palates. Come on. And we'll get you some robes more suitable for any...er...changes you may wanna make to not be such an eyesore." The man let out a bark of a laugh.
A bit under an hour later, Louis had his guest fed and dressed in dark grey robes that clung to his body. Marie had shrunken a spare Nimbus 2000 and the man pocketed it gratefully, along with a satchel of food. Louis said, "Tell Dumbledore I'll help from here, as best I can. I can get us secure lines of Floo communication, under-the-radar Portkeys...he knows my work these days. And I'll try to find people who will listen, and not follow the official line." "I'll tell him," the stranger said, grasping Louis' hand, before bowing to Marie. "Do me a favor and take care of yourself, will you? Things are about to get dark again, very fast. But hopefully we can sit down and have a long talk…as ex-soldiers…someday."
Louis said, "I look forward to it. Take care of yourself, Sirius."