CHAPTER 1: PROLOGUE

Scamandrius, as per his carefully cultivated reputation, remained utterly expressionless - a pureblood mask that no one has ever matched, but today's trial challenged even his own legendary patience. This farce of a trial for underage magic, he scoffed internally, was the most un-savvy, pathetic political maneuvering he had ever witnessed throughout his century serving the Wizengamot. His deceased colleagues, particularly the boy's grandfather, must be frothing with rage in Elysium, Asphodel, and Tartarus respectively - depending on where the underworld judges placed them upon their cremations.

Despite the ridiculous nature of this disciplinary hearing, it did have a single benefit, that being contact to Heir Potter. He had to be delicate, picking his words carefully, and plan accordingly – observing and absorbing all within the chambers, none more than the previous Chief Warlock Dumbledore and Heir Potter himself. The opportune time came shortly after the Minister's undersecretary spoke, Scamandrius stood, interrupting the insufferable woman mid-sentence:

"I beg your pardon, Undersecretary, but I do believe that your only purpose in this courtroom is to act as a scribe for the Minister, nothing more and possibly a great deal less." The woman looked as if she had swallowed a particularly sour Bertie Bott Bean, but she at least had the good sense to shut her trap, bow her head respectfully to a Senior Warlock, and sit down.

Having remained silent until the insufferable woman had silenced and sat herself, Scamandrius returned his unfathomable amethyst gaze back to the plum garbed Junior and Senior Warlocks that composed his colleagues, as well as the current Chief Warlock, Tiberius Ogden, and the Minister, Cornelius Fudge. "I have served this body for exactly a hundred years as of this August, and I cannot help but note that this is the first disciplinary trial held in Courtroom Ten, a courtroom traditionally reserved for high ranking criminal acts and treason." He eyed the Minister as he said this and allowed the mummers to sound for a few more moments, "That being said, Heir Harry James Potter illegally utilized the Patronus charm in muggle proximity, infringing upon the Statute of Secrecy".

Scamandrius' face remained icy as he observed the Minister and his Undersecretary's smug smiles at his statement before he crushed their hopes: "However, the Patronus charm is classed by this ministry as purely defensive in nature. Moreover, the muggle in question was already aware of magic and our society prior to Heir Potter's violation of the Underage Magic Laws, as the muggle in question was an immediate relative permitted such knowledge by the Statue of Secrecy's Article 7345-B64 concerning familial muggle relations."

Sternly straightening his robes in conclusion: "I propose that we seize these unorthodox proceedings immediately and move on to more important matters concerning this body's attention, none of them including juvenile disciplinary trials involving harmless, light spells." Scamandrius took a moment to savor the Minister's garnet cheeks and the Undersecretary's ever thinning lips, not that there was much there to begin with. "Under Article 880-054 of the International Confederation of Wizards charter concerning underage magic usage, the maximum penalty is as follows: seven seminars on magical law, a three hundred galleon fine, and a probationary period until the age of majority. Shall we vote then?"

There were many benefits to being one of the eldest Senior Warlocks of the Wizengamot, least of which was respect and diligence. In short order, the Potter Heir was voted to be guilty, a fact the boy himself did not deny, and ordered to serve his maximum penalty under the Probation Auror Philomena Ollivander. She was in turn under orders to give the young heir seven, three-hour-long seminars on magical law, collect the three hundred galleons fine, and periodically visit the boy's place of residence at random intervals. Interestingly enough, it was the latter of the maximum penalty that Dumbledore protested, a protest that was readily denied, much to the man's displeasure.

Even more interesting, however, was how quickly the esteemed headmaster fled the courtroom upon the conclusion of the trial, despite the boy's calls. Well, all the more convenient for Scamandrius. With the grace inherited from his most recent nymphai ancestor, he fluidly stepped through the conversing Warlocks, pleased to hear his own praise paired with Fudge's criticisms. Senior Warlock Nott attempted to hail him over, but Scamandrius paid him no heed, approaching the boy with what he knew appeared like disinterested ease.

As he approached, Scamandrius took a moment to observe the boy with a keener eye. He was rough and unpolished in more ways than one, but there was an innate potential, an emerald needing cutting and buffing – when all was said and done, however, the boy would be a jewel worthy of a crown. Nearly the carbon copy of his father before him, Harry James Potter appeared like a pureblood that had just had a tumble in the brush – a fact that would work in the boy's favor.

Pureblood features were desirable, carefully bred with only the most beautiful and powerful of creatures such as Fae, Succubai, and the like. If memory served Scamandrius well, the last creature blood mixed with the Potter line directly came from Charlus' mother, a Valkyrie. That meant the boy was an eighth Valkyrie, which was clearly visible in the boy's unruly onyx-locks that had once been unruly onyx-feathers on his grandfather.

"Sir?" The boy in question asked cautiously as he finally came in arm's length of the orphaned heir – skittish, an unbecoming trait.

"Salve, Heir Potter." He greeted with his wand arm crossed across his chest in a traditional magical salutation, as he predicted the boy looked befuddled – the rumors of his ignorance ringing true. "I suppose you don't know who I am." He asked rhetorically, receiving a flush and an embarrassed shake of the head. "No trouble, child. Greengrass, Scamandrius Greengrass, a Senior Warlock of the Wizengamot – Tiberius and I served with your grandfather for many years before his passing"

"My grandfather?" The boy asked with equal parts curiosity and apprehension – did the boy know nothing of his family?

"Your father's father, Junior Warlock Charlus Hardwin Asketill Potter, husband of Dorea Sirius Bulstrode Black Potter, were you not aware of him, child?"

"No, sir"

"Forgive me for my forwardness, but do you know nothing of your family, of House Potter?" He asked, careful to keep his face neutral and non-judgmental.

"… Not as much as I'd like, sir… but thank you for the information on my grandfather..."

"I have a great deal more information on House Potter than that, Heir Potter" This was almost too easy; Dumbledore that fool. "I'd be happy to send you what I have, my daughter, Daphne, is in your year at Hogwarts, if I'm not mistaken, and I could send it along with her once the autumn semester begins, would that be suitable?" Shaking his head vigorously, the boy thanked him.

"I'm happy to help in any way I can, your grandfather and I were good friends at Hogwarts, both of us were on the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team – your grandfather was a chaser, just like your father."

"He was in Ravenclaw… I thought, well, I thought my whole family was Gryffindor..."

"Well, your mother and father were, yes, but Charlus was a Ravenclaw, your grandmother, Dorea, Slytherin, and… I believe your uncle was sorted into Slytherin too, wasn't he…" Scamandrius actually couldn't recall…

"I had an uncle?!" the boy exclaimed, obviously taken by surprise.

"You didn't know" His ignorance was nearly frightening – this wasn't simply ignorance though, this was withheld knowledge, the knowledge that made up the boy's legacy. "Dorian Hardwin Rosier Potter, born of your grandfather's first wife, Adelia Rosier – he served in the Second World War alongside Theseus Scamander, my great nephew. If I recall correctly he died at the Magical Battle of Flortwall, December 1940... yes, Charlus was inconsolable, didn't even consider the possibility of conceiving another heir, especially after the passing of his first wife..." Taking a moment to allow the boy time to process, Scamandrius carefully continued.

"Dorea Black came out of the blue in 1957, her father, Cygnus Black I, offered her hand during the girl's sixth year, if I recall correctly" The boy scrunched his nose in distaste, Scamandrius allowed himself a chuckle: "A different time period, Heir Potter, and a proposal your grandfather would have been foolish to refuse. Your father was born a few years later, on 27 March 1960, Charlus must have been in his late 140s by that time, not that I can judge, I sired Daphne and Astoria in my 160s – late, even by magical standards."

Examining the boy, he appeared a bit out of sorts, "You went to school with Dumbledore then, sir?"

That's what the boy asked, after all the information on his family? "Indeed, but he was in your grandfather's year, I was a few years ahead of the two." Seeing an opportunity, Scamandrius took it, feigning contemplation and stroking his neatly trimmed snow-white beard: "I don't believe they ever spent time with one another though, didn't see eye-to-eye, both literally and figuratively."

"Do you remember why, sir?" The boy's forehead crinkling in what might have been confusion.

"I don't recall any specifics but I'm certain there were multiple factors at play: social circles, Hogwarts Houses, family histories, politics – the Dumbledores and Potters didn't see eye-to-eye in general. Charlus' mother didn't help matters, not that it was her fault for being what she was, in my opinion, she was one of the kindest women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"My grandmother, what about her?"

"Your great-grandmother, Hedwig of the Asketill Clan – she was Valkyrie, a dark creature according to the British Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore at the time, not sure of his views on the matter today."

"H-Hedwig, great-grandmother?" Scamandrius nodded, "And, I'm Valkyrie?"

"Your great-grandmother was full-blooded, your grandfather half-blooded, your father a quarter, which would make you an eighth – It's where you get your hair from, of course." The boy mumbled 'Hedwig' softly while raking a hand through his hair in contemplation, bringing a distant memory to the surface: "Your grandfather used to ruffle his feathers like that, which stood in place of his hair. I recall telling him once to stop showing off by doing so and he told me something along the lines of 'I have every reason to show off my feathers, these are my mother's feathers' – I regret not realizing how great a man your grandfather was until after his demise."

The boy smiled at this, a proud smile that should always grace a descendant of a proud race, but the boy looked overwhelmed and Scamandrius thought it best not to push any further, besides, he had already achieved all he wished to. He smirked internally at the not-so-subtle eavesdropping of his fellow Warlocks and the local reporters, one of which being Rita Skeeter. Dumbledore was a fool to leave his Golden Boy so soon after the trial. "My apologies for taking up so much of your time, Heir Potter, forgive an old man his ramblings." Yes, more than one could play the part of the kind grandfather, Dumbledore.

"I'll keep my promise and send my Daphne with the books and documents I have on House Potter, of which I assure you there are many. If you wish to seek more information than my own knowledge can provide, I would suggest contacting Chief Warlock Tiberius Ogden, he was in your grandfather's year and your father's godfather." The boy's eyes widened at this, nodding his head vigorously. "Now then, I'll be on my way, I have a meeting with a Junior Warlock, but follow Auror Ollivander's instructions and expect a young witch with violet-eyes to seek you out September 1rst."

"T-thank you, sir!" The boy said passionately. "Thank you, I really appreciate it, the information and what you said during the trial…"

"No worries, child. I was simply doing my duty as a Senior Warlock, I'm sure you will do the same upon claiming the title of Junior Warlock Potter." He decided not to answer the boy's questioning gaze at this; it was best to leave the boy with more questions than answers at this point. "Vale, Heir Potter." He crossed his wand-arm across his chest once more in parting – he did not allow even the slightest bit of a smug smile to twitch at the corner of his lips, he had a meeting with Junior Warlock Malfoy to discuss a betrothal, after all, and he had a reputation to keep.

A/N: Salve and Vale are Latin greetings and farewell respectively, more Latin will be incorporated later on but not excessively - this will be explained within the first five chapters. Magical naming will also be explained further in future chapters. Creature blood/heritage will also be extrapolated upon. Future chapters are planned to be significantly longer than the prologue. Please review and comment, thank you for reading.