Potters Divided-A Repost.
Chapter One: Like father, like son.
As Aberforth stirred in bed, he knew that this much was true-you never slept as well once you became a parent. Even when your child is nearing the age of twenty and has surpassed you in height by more than a foot; even when your child is not your own flesh and blood child, but a gift left on your doorstep. As Aberforth passed Primus' room, he saw what he had feared all week, Primus had gone. Aberforth threw on his travelling cloak and rushed out of his door. He knew exactly where he was going; Primus always went to sit by the stream when he needed to think, that made two of them.
"Primus, what are you doing out here?" he asked, as he sat next to his son on the embankment.
"I know," said Primus, lifting his dark eyes to meet his father's blue ones.
"Know what?" asked Aberforth, shivering in the September breeze.
"That I'm not your son," said Primus, sighing heavily.
"I...I don't know what made you think this," stammered Aberforth.
"You can't even deny it, can you? I know I'm not, and that's fine. I just wish you'd told me earlier," he said, gripping the old man's hand.
"Why would it have mattered? I've always treat you as my own. You are my son, flesh and blood is nothing," said Aberforth.
"I knew something was odd when you wouldn't let me go to Hogwarts, the great school where your brother taught; your brother who was one of the greatest wizards who ever lived," said Primus, proudly.
"They'd ask questions and I couldn't lose you, Primus. That day you were left on my doorstep was the greatest day of my life, really. I gave you a name, a home and an education, but I can never claim to have given you life. Only your real parents can do that," he said, wisely.
"And who are they.....my parents?" asked Primus, leaning towards Aberforth.
"I wish I could help you, but you were left on my doorstep inside a pile of blankets. The only thing with you was this," said Aberforth, taking a piece of parchment from his pocket. Primus opened it and saw only two words printed on it.
"Save him, what did she mean by that?" he asked, folding the paper into quarters.
"I suppose she wanted you safe from the battle of Hogwarts, nasty business that was," said Aberforth, remembering the screams and cries of those who had fallen and the cries of triumph from those who were victorious as if it were only yesterday.
"I've been wanting to know more about that battle," said Primus, sitting up in interest.
"I know the very man who can tell you all you want to know about it....Harry Potter," said Aberforth.
"NO!" the word came out in a fierce shout and Primus shook himself.
"It was just a suggestion," said Aberforth, cautiously.
"No, I know. What I mean is, I'd like to see what I can find out about my parents first, if that's okay with you," said Primus, more softly.
"Whatever makes you happy is fine with me," smiled Aberforth "Now let's go back to the house, I'm freezing," he stood up and held out a hand for his son.
"You'll always be my father," said Primus, smiling.
"And you'll always be my son," replied the old wizard.
Night had faded into morning and James Potter was awoken by the shouts of his mother.
"James! Time to get up!" she roared upstairs.
"Coming!" he called back, throwing on his dressing gown and running down the stairs as fast as he could.
"Do you want scrambled eggs?" asked Harry, waving his wand over a pan that was gently simmering on the stove.
"Yes please," replied James, taking a slice of toast that sat in a china rack on the table.
"James, don't you have something to say to your sister?" prompted Ginny.
"Oh...yeah, could you pass me the orange juice, Lil?" he asked. He quickly regretted this, as Ginny hit him over the head with a rolled up newspaper.
"She's starting Hogwarts this year, you insensitive skrewt," said Albus, biting his toast ferociously.
"You think I'd forget something like that? Well Lil, I hope you're in Gryffindor," he said, beaming at her. Albus scowled at him and sipped his tea.
"Well one of you had to make me proud," said James, shrugging.
"Can you give the whole house thing a rest for one day?" asked Harry, putting eggs onto their plates.
"I thought you were made up when I got into Gryffindor," said James.
"We were, but that didn't mean we were any less proud of Albus when he got sorted into Slytherin," smiled Ginny.
"I would have been ashamed if I were you, but I suppose it figures what with the whole hissy snaky language," said James.
"That's enough, James. Albus has that gift because I do," said Harry, sipping his coffee.
"Yeah, but we all know who else could speak it...Voldemort! What if you turn out like him, Al? First you make it into Slytherin, and then you can speak Parseltongue. I'd ask you to pass the marmalade but it might be one of your horcruxes," leered James.
"THAT IS ENOUGH. OUT, JAMES!" roared Harry. James ran upstairs, cursing Albus under his breath. Not long after, James heard footsteps on the stairs.
"James Sirius Potter, I have never been so ashamed of you," said Ginny, half angry, half sad.
"I was only joking....sort of," he muttered, darkly.
"We don't joke about things like that in this house. Albus will never turn out to be bad, because he has our genes. As for mentioning Voldemort at the breakfast table, that's just wrong, James," she said.
"Maybe if they don't want us to talk about it, they shouldn't teach us about it," he spat.
"Those who do not study the past are condemned to repeat it, remember that, James," she replied.
"I'm sorry, okay? I was joking," said James.
"This is what I want you to do. Go to your father's study and go to his Pensieve, pour out the bottle that is marked 'final battle'. Then you will see just a snippet of what your father endured at the hands of that so called lord," said Ginny, clenching her fists. James nodded arrogantly and strode into his father's study. Half an hour later, Ginny walked past to see him sobbing against the Pensieve, all arrogance gone. She felt guilty that she had done it, but pleased with the result.
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