Harry knows nothing of his family and yet the whole world does. However there's one thing that neither know about the true heritage of Harry's family, one that could threaten his very life should it ever get out. The Elders were witches and warlocks, who did not require wands to channel their power and believed to be long gone. So what does Harry have to do with them? And why does their long lost Queen hold the answers to every mystery that has ever plagued him?

So this idea has been swimming around my head for absolutely ages. Like two years or so and I finally decided that I should write it and see if it sinks or swims.

In the AU, there are two kinds of witches and wizards; those who need wands and those who don't and basically they don't get on (surprise!) and have a long standing feud which has resulted in those who wands defeating the wand-less ones, or so they think. Without giving too much away, as it will all be revealed in the story, this is a different version of James Potter's parents and how the series would be different if they were alive (hint: at least one is an Elder) and what life would be like for Harry once her found out.

I know J.K has already done a back story for James and his parents, and obviously I don't own the series so this is just a fans imaginings when you mix boredom and an over active imagination. Also I may miss out or alter some of the scenes to fit my story (and it has been a while since I reread the books) so please enjoy and let me know if you think that it's any good.

The first light of day had just begun to creep across the grounds of Hogwarts as an exhausted wizard and witch made their way to the castle. The faint sounds of the celebrations could be heard echoing from Hogsmeade; however the pair could not bring themselves to join in the festivities. The night sung with the vanquish of the Dark Lord; however their hearts cried with the loss of two innocent lives.

The dark haired witch glanced at her companion, her emerald eyes searching his aged face desperate for him to look at her. "Albus…" she whispered, desperate to discuss the events that had transpired.

He did not stop but surrendered his gaze to her, glancing mournfully over his half-moon spectacles. "It was the right thing to do." He said, unsure of whom he was trying to convince.

"But why the muggles Albus?" the witch cried for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "Surely there are other places where he will be just as well protected?"

"Perhaps," Albus allowed. "But his name is famous. He would be forever hounded. Living with his aunt and uncle will protect him, no one will know where to find and not think to look for him there."

"She won't be happy you know." They both stopped, analysing each other as they might over a chess match. "He would have been safe with her, no one would dare try and harm him and we needn't worry about his protection as she could certainately keep him safe…"

"Minerva," Albus sighed, allowing his exhaustion to finally surface. "More people want her dead than any other. Placing Harry with her would simply draw attention and questions would be asked." At her broken look, he took her hand in his. "They would both be in danger."

Minerva stepped forward, resting her head against his shoulder, grateful that he wrapped his free arm around her. "I know." She whispered so quietly, Albus almost didn't hear her. "That doesn't make it any easier though." They remained like this for a few moments, simply taking comfort from the other's presence, before Albus gently tugged at her hand and they carried on walking towards the castle, unconsciously still holding one another's hand.

Once they entered through the massive doors, they immediately noticed the dark and heavy atmosphere that seemed to have settled over the building. The corridors were eerily silent as they made their way towards Dumbledore's office and even the candles (that were charmed to burn throughout the night) seemed to be flickering in little more than dying embers. As they approached the gargoyle statue that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office, they were surprised to see it already open, waiting for their assent.

Sharing a look they both trudged up the staircase wearily, the weight of what was to come enough to make them want to turn away from the entrance and never look back. Dumbledore slowly pushed the door to his office open, revealing the room within. At first, everything looked to be in order, shadows creeping back into the corners of the room due to the rising of the sun. It was then Albus noticed that the shadows were not moving away from the window but rather crawling towards it, joining to the figure that was stood before it.

The figure was dressed in a deep crimson velvet dress that pooled out onto the marble floor and her long ebony hair had been pulled over one shoulder, revealing the open back of her dress and the ancient runes that marred her pale skin in a vertical line that travelled the length of her spine. Streaks of silver glimmered in the early morning light as she turned her head slightly to acknowledge the arrival of the headmaster and his deputy. One hand was slowly tracing a pattern around the dancing flame that rested on the window, lazily causing it to flicker and dance away from her pale hand.

"I believe we need to talk." Albus spoke at last, his voice seeming louder in the silence of the room.

As Albus spoke, the woman tensed and extinguished the candle between her middle finger and thumb. "I believe we do." The woman replied in a silky smooth voice that betrayed no emotions as she turned towards them, her icy blue eyes glowing with a mixture of rage and magic.