Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the works that have inspired this story.
AN: This is a new story idea that's been bugging me for a while. I'm hoping to complete my other one first before I try to concentrate on this.
From the pages of "Through Our Eyes - The Second Blood War: A Biography by Harry J. Potter"
It has been many decades since the fall of the dark lord Voldemort. In these past scores, Magical Briton has healed many of the wounds that came from and caused the whole bloody mess. It's something that's been long overdue but I suppose, as my mother use to tell me, that nothing worth having ever comes easy.
It's weird when you think about it. How hate that was started in the 1920's would eventually culminate and be decided by one generation of witches and wizards who fell on both sides of the conflict. It reminds me of the quote by Shakespear in Twelfth Night: "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." I can certainly say that none of us felt we were born great, nor did any of us aspire to achieve it and while some could argue that greatness was thrust upon us, at the time we just wanted to survive.
I've thought, from time to time, about how despite my family's simple goals of having food in your stomach, a roof over your head, and having someone to share your dreams with still leave us caught in the middle of some controversy or other. From salacious behavior with a lords wife in a chicken coop (a complete misunderstanding according to his journals though he doesn't quite explain how her bodice came to be undone nor what the butter churner was for) to defeating a 1,000 year old revived pharaoh and his army of inferi after what could only be described as a dare gone wrong.
My grandfather, rest his soul, used to say that the Chinese curse "May you live in interesting times" was originally directed at our family after an ancestor helped bring down some dark wizard or other during Roman times. While my family records have nothing that actually records this happening, it would certainly explain a lot.
I can only guess that, were it not for the prophecy, my brother and I still would have somehow found our way in the middle of things. It's just not in our nature to let things stand when they are wrong. Never, in the magical history of the world, have I seen circumstances where one generation would spend their formative years between two wars. Being shaped, molded, and moved around like little chess pieces trying to tip the scales in favor of the light or dark.
After the muggle 'Great War' the yanks have what they call the greatest generation. While certainly not to scale of what the muggles went through I can't help but draw comparison. There is one aspect that is different from what the muggles went through. That is that our parents failed us. It has taken some time to reconcile that fact. In fact, if not for my mother begging for forgiveness after the final battle, one delirious night, I never would have thought of it.
Confused? So was I until the this book came about and I started to bring see things for myself from an outside perspective. You see, the second Blood War truly felt like and extension of the first. In fact, it even had many of the same players. My generation's parents had thirteen years to eradicate the philosophies that caused the first war and instead put their heads in the sands and carried on like everything was alright. Instead of fixing things or setting up society to do better they carried on like normal. There is a quote that states "The definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and expecting a different result." Well…no one has ever claimed that wizards are sane; in fact, there's more than ample evidence to the contrary.
In hindsight, we really should have known that we Potter's were going to end up in the thick of things just by how the first war 'paused'. People often ask why there were not more preparations for done if we knew that things would start up again. To answer that, I have to ask, who here is comfortable enough to train a child for war?
While my mum may have fallen for the wizarding trap of becoming illogical from time to time she really did instill my brother and I with the proper work ethics to prepare ourselves when the time was right. Between her and our two crazy uncles, growing up was always a learning experience.
At this point, you may be wondering what's the bloody point of all this? Well, to be totally honest…I don't know. Maybe I just want to give you a brief look into the circumstances that shaped us. They say steel sharpens steel, necessity is the mother of all inventions, and desperation can lead to some crazy decisions. Well, we needed to stay alive and finding out that some psycho dark lord is intent on killing you will make you pretty desperate and that would help you think of creative ways to stay alive.
It started as a personal project. A way to heal. For years I had struggled with bouts of depression, flashbacks, and nightmares. They would go away for a while with the love and support of family but they would always come back. One day, I started to read over my old correspondences and journal entries. At first it was for amusement, just to see a time when I could have been considered innocent.
It was weird reading about yourself after so many years. You'd be amazed and the memories and feelings that stir up when you are the one reminding yourself what happened, from your perspective of course. Sometimes I would cry uncontrollably due to some minor event. Others I'd rage at some long forgotten slight or laugh hysterically at a recounted incident that wasn't so funny at the time.
I started to filter my writings to only those that I felt built up to and including the war. I'm not sure what I was looking for but I must have found it as I had not had a relapse since shortly after I completed my second read through. Maybe it was seeing how an eleven year old child could grow up to accomplish what he did.
After learning about what I did, family and friends gave me their own documents (or what remained of them in some cases) to compile together. It is certainly interesting how we all saw and reacted to the same events.
For many years, there was only one document kept by myself. From time to time one would read it when they came over for a visit. Now, after reading about so many of our 'heroic' deeds we've reached a consensus to release it to the public. In the end, this is just a means to set some matters straight.
We were not larger than life heroes who laughed in the face of death. We were brothers, friends, lovers, parents, and children who all felt those things everyone feels when growing up. We have all made, and paid for our mistakes.
Many of us have already withdrawn or will soon from public life. All I can ask is please; do not judge us too harshly. Sometimes we were children trying to make impossible decisions or caught in the middle of a situation that had no right answer.
So to start with, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Harry James Potter, I am a brother, a son, a husband, a father, an archaeologist, a professor, a hero, and last but not least, a squib. This is our story.
AN: Thanks for reading.