In the end, Tom Marvolo Riddle seduced Albus Dumbledore, his superior in wisdom, experience and magical prowess. Together, an entire nation fell to their charms. And so, the Wizarding World entered a golden age of beauty and integration. This is the story of one Harry Potter, heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, and his legendary affairs.
Prologue. The Fool
Lady Lily Potter was no superstitious fool. She had been a muggleborn who had only learnt of the magical world at the tender age of 11. She had entered the illustrious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry carrying only a shining leather trunk full of books and an empty head full of dreams. Yet she had emerged at the age of 18 as the Head Girl of her year, academic accolades pouring from her ears and had defeated her many rivals to seduce her fiancé, the only heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. To accomplish all of this, she had needed all the help she could get.
Her position and status in society seemed all but assured after the Potter Matriarch had personally approved her only son's choice of bride. That was only on the surface, however. Before she produced an heir, any overzealous harpy, like those awful Black sisters, could easily topple her from her post and leave her destitute and ruined on the streets.
Lady Potter was no fool, so she knew what she had to do to protect herself and her unborn child. It was a technique she used rarely these days, now that her intuition and experience had helped her blossom into a matriarch in her own right, predicting dangers before they could befall her and her family. Some things, however, were less predictable. Espionage, treacherous plots, the birth of her first child. That was when the cards would come into play.
The cards were housed in an unassuming box of pale beechwood, deeply inscribed with runes she had painstakingly carved herself to attain her mastery in Ancient Runes. She untied the coarse black cloth which bound the box and hid it from prying eyes, effortlessly lifting its lid and retrieving the cards that lay within.
Once, the cards had been nothing more than paper, bought by her sister on a whim from a London occult bookshop that she had dragged their entire family to 'learn more about magic'. For her sister, the cards had been just pretty pictures to look at during a rainy afternoon, before being tossed aside and forgotten about entirely. Under Lily's fingertips, however, the cards had come alive. Soaked in her magic almost every day, transforming her innocent daydreams into fierce ambition, after a decade they had become a magic artifact in their own right.
Lily Evans had been the first witch to pass a NEWT in Divination for 30 years. The only person qualified to examine her, Cassandra Trelawney, had pronounced that her ability was good, if unrefined. In secret, the celebrated seer had helped to tease her raw potential into true power. Now, Lady Potter was very, very good at what she did.
The cards had lain undisturbed for years now. The back of the tarot cards were all the same- a complex gold decorative pattern looping through a background of Gryffindor-red, with a single eye at its center. Under her gaze, the entire deck floated up from her palm and meticulously shuffled themselves. Years of experience had taught them purpose, and through their shared bond, they knew their mistress' purpose too.
Three cards emerged, the simplest spread that she had ever used.
The Empress. Lady Potter looked at the card of the Mother who lay reclined in luxurious clothes, a diadem upon her head. It was her, now. She had always been a Queen before, a Queen of Swords. Now, it seemed that her path was clear. Complex emotions began to well up in her heart, but she suppressed them ruthlessly. She would be a mother in the future, but she would have to live to see that day first.
Next, the Fool. It was expected. She was embarking on the journey of motherhood, so the card for new beginnings would be hard-pressed to not appear.
The reading seemed to be in her favour, but there was still one card left unturned. Lady Potter had never once feared what her cards revealed to her, had never flinched in the pursuit of the truth. Yet as the final card turned to deliver its message, she felt an icy hand steal over her heart.
For the card depicted an image that would chill anyone who looked upon it. A skeleton knight in black steel armour, bearing a black standard upon a mounted horse of dazzling white. Women, children, kings and commoners all lay dying before it, united before the only thing all man must face.
It was Death, and in her heart of hearts, Lady Potter knew that it meant the end.