Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J K Rowling owns him and all the other characters in this little world we all know and love to manipulate. Nor do I own the Darcorn (that's Saerry's!). I do, however, own this plot and all original characters that can be seen in this story.
Author's Note: Hello, everyone who happens across this story! I've been around this site for a couple of years, reading the multitude of stories, and have tried to start a few of my own (I've switched screen names a couple of times since then and finally settled on something somewhat generic), but they didn't pan out so well. Now I have something new! I've decided to try my hand at Severitus' challenge, but I'll go about things more like what Saerry Snape did with her Not Myself series (which is the story that inspired me to write this one). There will be multiple large differences in my story from hers, but I hope that it is just as interesting (though the first four titles will be the same as the canon books). And now, without further ado, on with the story!
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A Saga Rewritten: Philosopher's Stone
Chapter One: And So It Begins...
"Good luck, Harry Potter."
Those four words seemed to echo down the quiet street of Privet Drive as an old man in purple robes and half moon spectacles strode to the end of the street, waved his hand to restore the streetlamps their light, and then disappeared with a small pop. A light breeze rustled the hedges all along Privet Drive as a small bundle on the doorstep of Number Four stirred, a tiny hand reaching out of the folds and grasping the edge of the letter tucked into the blankets he was wrapped in. Harry Potter slept on, not knowing that in the morning he would be awoken by the scream of his aunt, Petunia Dursley, as she was setting out old milk bottles and collecting the morning paper. Nor did he know that, for the next two weeks, he would be poked and pinched by his cousin Dudley. . . . And he couldn't know that, at that very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"
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Almost nine years have passed since that fateful November morning, when the Dursleys had awoken to find their nephew on their doorstep, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. Their same houses and their same gardens remained as spotless as ever, and even their cars all remained the same make and model. Children had aged and others were born, though very few young families lived on Privet Drive. At Number Four, pictures of a baby boy had changed over the years and now the pictures of that same boy looked like a somewhat slimmer version of his father, who was like a walrus in his size. The walls, side tables, and the mantle above the fireplace were covered with pictures of this blonde boy and never gave away the fact that there was another boy living in the house. Namely, one Harry James Potter.
Harry Potter had not lived happily with his relatives, as one might expect. From the time he was four he was forced to do all the cooking and cleaning around the house by his uncle, Vernon Dursley. He was often relieved of doing a lot of his assigned duties by his aunt and cousin when his uncle wasn't around, which Harry appreciated immensely. Unfortunately, his uncle was a very intimidating man and Harry was forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs and had to wear his cousin's cast-offs, which wasn't really all that bad, considering that his cousin had managed to keep a somewhat fit physique and Harry wasn't too skinny (even though his uncle kept trying to starve him, but his aunt always gave him some leftovers after Vernon went to bed).
And so it was on Monday, the twenty-third of September in nineteen ninety-one, that Harry was awoken by the soft knocking of Aunt Petunia as she called him. "It's time to wake up, Harry. You're uncle will be down soon, so hurry up."
The young boy smiled slightly as he quickly pulled on his slightly oversized clothes, pulled on his trainers, and exited the cupboard. Harry stretched a bit before walking into the kitchen and taking up Aunt Petunia's place at the stove just in time to hear Uncle Vernon and Dudley making their way downstairs. Harry quickly dished out three portions of bacon, eggs, toast, and sausages before setting them down in front of the recently seated Dursley Patriarch, who had the largest serving, and his aunt and cousin.
"Hurry up, boy, and pour my coffee. And don't forget the cream this time, or else I'll have to teach you another lesson in following orders," Uncle Vernon growled out as Harry, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley all winced a bit. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry meekly went over to the counter and fixed up his uncle's coffee as he waited for his toast to heat up.
"Hurry up, boy. I don't have all day to wait for you to get me my coffee," Uncle Vernon barked out, a vein on his forehead twitching, causing Harry to spill a little bit of the coffee onto the counter. "You'll clean that up, boy, or you'll not be having supper tonight," Uncle Vernon snarled, his face turning slightly red with anger.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon," came Harry's timid reply as he placed the cup of coffee in front of his uncle and went about cleaning up the coffee on the counter.
Fifteen minutes, and a few more insults to Harry, later Harry and Dudley were walking down to meet the school bus with their backpacks slung over their shoulders. They had just gotten to the bus stop when Harry was nearly toppled to the ground and his vision was blocked by a mass of bushy brown hair. Hermione Granger gave her best friend one last squeeze before pulling back and smiling up at him.
"Oh my goodness, Harry, you won't believe what happened to me over the weekend!" She cried as she bounced up and down on the spot, her face glowing with excitement.
"Whoa there, Mione," Harry said, placing his hands on her shoulders to keep her still. "What's happened to you that seems to have gotten you so excited?"
"Well, since Dudley would find out anyway," she said as she reached into her backpack and pulled out an envelope. "I got this letter on my birthday, but of course I didn't believe it at first. I mean, how logical would that be?" She continued her rant as Harry pulled out the letter and read the shiny emerald ink that adorned it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Ms. Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Harry looked up to find both Hermione and his cousin looking at him. "That's all fine and everything," Harry said skeptically, "But what does that have to do with me?"
"Oh, Harry, didn't you hear me?" Hermione asked as she removed a large, leather-bound book from her bag. She opened it and leafed through the pages until she came to a spot almost at the end of the book, then she gave the book to Harry and pointed at the page. "Here, read this passage, Harry. It will help to convince you."
Harry looked over at his cousin skeptically, and then both he and Dudley looked down at the page and began reading whatever it was that Hermione thought was so important.
The Fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
There was never a more terrifying time than the war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Purported to be the most powerful Dark Wizard since Salazar Slytherin himself, You-Know-Who and his loyal Death Eaters spread terror and death throughout Magical Britain for numerous years. Towards the end of the war, You-Know-Who had giants, werewolves, vampires, and many other dark creatures in his army and the Aurors were at their limits. Many times You-Know-who was thwarted by the only wizard he ever feared: Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But it was not Albus Dumbledore who brought on the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; it was a baby by the name of Harry Potter. On that fateful Halloween night in nineteen eighty-one, You-Know-Who besieged the Potters' home in Godric's Hollow; James and Lily Potter were both killed trying to fend him off, and then He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named turned his wand on the infant as he cast the Killing Curse. However, for reasons unknown, the curse rebounded from its intended target and struck You-Know-Who, killing him instead. And so Harry Potter, after suffering great tragedy, became the only know survivor of the Killing Curse and was granted the title "The Boy-Who-Lived."
Both Harry and Dudley looked up from the book at Hermione; Dudley with a gob smacked expression on his face, and Harry with a slightly pale and shocked expression on his. Harry slowly closed the book, giving it one last look, and then handing it to Hermione as he leaned against the nearby street sign. His cousin and best friend exchanged a worried gaze and Hermione slowly approached her pale friend.
"Harry, I'm sorry that I showed you that," she said softly, looking at the ground in shame and shuffling her feet. "I know that it must be saddening and I shouldn't have —"
"No, don't be sorry," Harry said looking up at his friend as he stood up straight. "I'm glad that you showed that to me. Now I know how my parents really died. . . ." he trailed off, his face scrunching up in thought.
"What is it, Harry?" Dudley asked, moving to stand beside Hermione.
"Well, if that book's true, then does that make me a wizard?" he asked, his eyes looking hopefully to Hermione for confirmation.
"Of course it does!" Hermione said, nodding her head vigorously. "Honestly, did you think that you wouldn't be one? I mean, considering who your parents are and what that book says, I'd be very shocked if you weren't."
At that point, the bus arrived and the three scrambled on board, taking seats towards the back so that they could converse in some semblance of privacy. Hermione told her two friends all about what she had learned of the wizarding world over the two days she was getting her supplies for the next year. She told them that she'd be going the next year because her birthday was only a couple weeks after term had started and that she would be memorizing her textbooks until September 1 (which caused both boys to smile and roll their eyes, which then caused them to get cuffed on the head by a huffy girl). They discussed how Harry would approach his aunt, which prompted Dudley to confess that he'd had a couple of bursts of accidental magic, the same as Harry, which happened while he was alone in his room a few times (and one of the times that Harry got blamed for in front of Uncle Vernon).
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Later that afternoon, a few hours before Vernon Dursley was due home from work, Hermione came over to Privet Drive from her home on Wisteria Way and the two ten-year-olds and one eleven-year-old went inside Number Four to speak with Petunia Dursley. They went to the kitchen where Petunia was working on dinner and stood just inside the doorway as Harry spoke.
"Aunt Petunia, we need to talk with you," Harry said as he shuffled from one foot to the other in anxiousness.
"What do you need to talk to me about?" she asked as she set the pan to simmer and turned to face the children, frowning slightly as she noticed that they were a bit anxious.
"Well," Hermione began, "A few days ago I received a letter from a private school up in Scotland and from what we figure, Harry and Dudley will be going as well." Petunia raised a questioning eyebrow and Hermione handed over her letter to the older woman, who looked the letter over for a few moments before sighing.
"I thought that this would happen, though I am surprised that you got a letter, Hermione," Petunia said as Hermione's cheeks tinged pink when she was addressed. "I was saving something for you, Harry, from your mother. I was instructed to give it to you once you got your Hogwarts letter, though I think that I can make an exception to give it to you now," she said as she turned to Harry.
"You have something from my mum?" he asked, to which his aunt nodded. "Can I get it now, Aunt Petunia?"
"Yes, I think that would be prudent. Give me a few moments to get it," she replied as she handed Hermione's letter back to the eleven-year-old and left the kitchen to go and find the small box. After about a minute, Petunia came back into the kitchen with a shoebox and handed it to Harry. "You may open that whenever you feel up to it, Harry. Now," she said as she laced her fingers together. "Since, apparently, my son will also be attending Hogwarts, I think that we should set a day when we can all go out and get your school things using Hermione's list. I think it would do well for both of you to go over whatever you need to before you get to Hogwarts."
The three children nodded and they hurried out the back door so that Petunia could continue with dinner preparations. Harry, Hermione, and Dudley walked over to the shed and sat down in its shade as Harry sat there staring at the shoebox with a look of both happiness and sadness. After a few moments of silence, Harry pulled open the lid and saw multiple different papers towards the bottom with a thin box on top, with a vial of green liquid next to that and a smaller, square box. Covering all of that were two letters, both addressed to 'Harry James Potter' in green ink. Harry slowly pulled out the first letter and opened it to find that the writing inside looked similar to Hermione's own handwriting.
My Dearest Harry,
If you are reading this letter, then I am afraid that James and I are dead. It also indicates that you were not sent to your godfather, Sirius Black, as was instructed in our will. I do not know what became of him, if he has not raised you, but it may have something to do with our deaths. Oh my darling boy, how I wish that I could be there and hold you, help you through whatever hardships will plague you, and comfort you whenever you are sad. But I will not, so I must help you through some of the things that have already happened in your short life so far. I'm sure there are several, and James' letter may cover those, but there is one that I must address myself for anything to make sense in his letter.
Harry, James Potter is not your biological father. We know this, because we found that James can not have any children of his own. He hasn't told his friends, though he really should, and they will believe James your true father thanks to the charms that he and I placed on you as a baby. The green vial is a potion that will cancel out the charms that make you look like James, and you will resemble your real father. It was a chance meeting at a pub in London, but I couldn't have been happier that you came of that night.
I want you to contact him as soon as you can, after you get your own owl of course, and send him a letter explaining things with the other letter from my envelope, because he doesn't know. His name is Severus Snape, and he should be the Potions Professor at Hogwarts. As I cared deeply for James, I loved your father very much, but there were things that prevented me from marrying him instead.
Harry, never doubt that James loved you as his own son and that I loved you more than words can describe. I'll leave you to read James' letter and the other things in the box. I'll always love and watch over you Harry, remember that.
With all my love,
Lily
By the time Harry was finished, tears were freely running down his face as he stared down at the paper in shock. James Potter wasn't his real father? He looked over at his best friend and cousin, giving them a look of sadness before handing the letter to Hermione and pulling out the letter from James. It was written in the same green ink that his mother's letter was, and the writing was almost as neat, but distinctly masculine.
Harry,
If you've read your mother's letter first, then you know the truth. If not, then you should do so immediately. Anyway, know that I did love you, and nothing could change that. Now, on to the non-depressing stuff that we put into the box. Aside from the vial there are two boxes (which I'll explain about later), your real birth certificate, deeds to several properties that you now own, and a list that will be explained later on. The deeds are to Potter Manor, the house in Godric's Hollow where we will be going into hiding soon, a villa in the Mediterranean, and Number Four Privet Drive in Surry. The boxes are probably the most important things there. The larger of the two boxes holds a wand that we had crafted specifically for you, Harry. The wood is holly, while the core consists of three things: a tail feather from Albus Dumbledore's phoenix, a drop of your blood, and the hair of a Darcorn (which your mother was able to get, I don't know how).
This wand is special, not only because of the two cores, but because it can become a staff when you are ready for that power. The smaller box contains the Potter family ring, mine and your mother's wedding bands, your mother's engagement ring, and two different necklaces. I put the Potter ring in there because I made you my heir, and with it you become the last living descendant of Godric Gryffindor. The necklaces are for you and someone of your choosing, so that you both may be protected from minor curses and lessen the effect of some others. Put the wedding bands and engagement ring in the Potter vault. If the Goblins give you any trouble, give them the other parchment inside this envelope and you will be given full access to all of the vaults from my family. The list is of things that happened to us shortly before we went into hiding and of things that I had transferred to the Gryffindor vault for safekeeping.
Take care, Harry, for there are many who would give or do anything for the wealth you now possess. Know that I love you as my own, and I'll be watching over you with your mother for as long as you live.
Your dashing step-father,
James Potter
Harry was stunned by James' letter, but didn't have too much time to dwell on it as Hermione had tackled him as she cried for him, having just finished Lily's letter. Harry gently pat her back as her tears drenched his shirt and she clung to him to let him know that she cared. Dudley was also a bit watery-eyed, but he managed to keep his tears to himself as he gave his cousin a sad and caring look. After a couple of minutes, Hermione's sobs subsided and she pulled back from Harry, smiling a bit shyly up at him.
"Err, sorry about your shirt, Harry. . . ." she said, her cheeks flushing slightly as she looked down at his thoroughly soaked shirt.
"It's alright, Mione," Harry said as he gave her a sad smile, then he turned to his cousin and gave a mischievous smile. "Oh, Dudley, apparently I own Number Four. James' letter said the deed was in the box. Uncle Vernon will have to make a few changes around the house if he wants to stay in it." Dudley paled slightly and Harry realized his mistake. "Err, I didn't mean that you and Aunt Petunia couldn't stay, just Uncle Vernon," he amended quickly, trying to sooth his cousin's fears.
"Oh, well I guess that's alright. . . ." Dudley said, the paleness leaving his face as he smiled warily at his cousin. "So, what do we do now?"
"We go to Gringotts to settle everything that we need to there before we but all the things you need," Hermione said as she finished reading James' letter with a far away look in her eyes.
"Hermione," Harry said, "Are you alright?"
"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine Harry. It's just that this wand your da— err, James described is so incredible! Darcorns are supposed to be these really dark creatures, the opposites of Unicorns, but from what James said your mother was able to get one with no difficulty. Do you suppose she was really talented with defensive magic? Or do you think that everyone's wrong about the Darcorns?"
Harry shrugged, "I haven't the foggiest, Mione, but whichever it was I'm glad I have some of its hair in my wand."
After that, they put everything back into the shoebox and Hermione went home. Harry and Dudley went inside and talked to Petunia for a while, planning the trip to London for the next day as Harry moved into his usual position at the stove just as Vernon walked in the door, insulting Harry and demanding that the 'freak' get his food on the table before he got what was coming to him.
'I don't know about me, but you'll be getting whatever's coming to you soon, Uncle Vernon,' Harry thought as he dished out the pot roast that Petunia had cooked that afternoon.
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Author's Note: Well, that's the end of chapter one! I hope you all enjoyed what I've written so far and decide to review. I'm hoping for reviews from Severitus and Saerry, but I won't count on it so soon. Click the little purple button and review!
Yours truly,
Jean-Luc