AN: Yes, that's right, it's a Fable crossover. There is no Fable in the story yet, but I will tell you it's the first game and after Jack of Blades is killed (the second time) for the Fable storyline. I will also being playing with Fable rules as I see fit. And this may or may not end up being updated...it depends on how much I can motivate myself. Maybe it'll be a full length series.
Name wanted for story. Please submit suggestions (I don't care if it's a review or a PM. Either is fine).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Fable.
Chapter 0: Prologue
There was no denying that Lily Potter was a smart witch, and that when she put her mind to it, she could find a solution for almost everything – though not everyone liked her solutions at times. So when Albus told the young woman and her husband about a prophecy which may or may not be about their currently unborn child, Lily put her mind to things.
First, she put her mind to where they could stay. It would have to be somewhere she and James could live for a while – possibly even years – without feeling closed in or trapped or everyone knowing that was where the Potter family was living, even if they didn't know the actual location. The second was the reason why she dismissed the Potter Manor out of hand; everyone expected them to be there.
The first reason led her to a quaint cottage bought by James' grandfather for his parents as a wedding gift, and was in fact where Charles and Dorea had their honeymoon before they returned to Potter Manor to live as Lords and Ladies do. It wasn't well known – in fact, no one who didn't live in Godric's Hollow knew that Charles and Dorea had ever stayed there, let alone that one of the many quaint cottages lining the cobble streets belonged to the Potter's – which also made it perfect for the second criteria she had.
Moving wasn't too much of a chore – magic made things so easy when it came to mundane stuff like moving house – and in no time the Potter's were settled into their new house.
In the first few weeks Lily wandered the village occasionally, taking in the sights and just generally enjoying what little relaxation she could get before the war came crashing back down on her. It was springtime, which meant cold rain and breezy afternoons spent either curled up reading a book or twirling her umbrella as she strolled through the town trying very hard not to wish she wasn't pregnant. To be stuck at home doing nothing while her husband fought in the war rankled at Lily's nerves, but she wouldn't give her baby boy up for nothing.
It was during these wanders that she came across the large dais in the back of the graveyard, hidden from the casual eye of anyone visiting the old church by some sporadic trees and a few hedges that had become overgrown and hidden behind grass and weeds until it looked like just another part of the woodlands surrounding the town. A crude stone thing with three shallow steps up to a large round floor, cracked and battered and covered in debris. What looked like it might have been pillars at one stage stood at each compass point around the circle, one with a large round stone still quite firmly stuck in the top of the remains.
Curiosity made her rub her jacket sleeves over the round stone to reveal malachite green, though exactly what it was made of she couldn't say. It sounded like stone but looked like crystal, and despite the weathering of the surrounding dais it was still perfectly rounded. Another scrub at the centre of the dais revealed that it had been inlaid with more of the same material, and ancient runes were scatted around the outside.
She didn't do anything more that day, mindful of how long she had been out and about in her delicate state when there was a war going on, but a few days later she returned with charcoal and paper to take some rubbings of the runes with the intention of perhaps studying them in her down time after the war was over.
A week later she found herself trapped inside the cottage with James, ensconced by the Fidelius Albus had cast over the property for them and trusting in Peter's ability to keep everything secret. They had switched at the last minute, allowing everyone to believe it was Sirius who kept their secret for them – it was, after all, the most obvious choice – and felt secure in their trust of the smallest Marauder. While James paced and muttered, and eventually went on to set up the spare bedroom as a practice room, throwing himself into practicing the spells and manoeuvres he knew so that one day, when he was finally free to leave the cottage again, he would be in top form to defeat anything that was thrown at him.
Lily found herself with lots of free time between waiting for their son to be born and being confined to the house, and in that time picked up the etchings she had taken only a week ago and pulled out her Ancient Runes course books – she may have been a Charms Mistress, but she wasn't too bad at Ancient Runes either, if she may say so herself.
A lot of the etchings were too old to read properly and may have been any number of runes, some which were quite alarming if they were the actual meaning, but Lily was able to read a few over the next couple of months. Mainly the ones that said 'transfer', 'man/being' and 'location'. And by the pattern of some of the other runes she could barely make out, the location seemed to be one of two fixed points; it was part of a set.
Well, Lily thought to herself upon that discovery, I suppose that makes sense. They had to be able to transport large amounts of goods somehow before they invented portkeys.
Satisfied with the discovery, she shelved the project again and not a moment too soon. Only a few days later she went into labour, and Harry James Potter was brought into the world.
Time passed quickly after that; Harry was a bright baby and a happy one, and she couldn't hope for a more perfect son. Lily was sure all mothers thought that about their children, but hers really was perfect. Little fingers and an adorable nose, with James's shock of messy hair – he'd grown that rather quickly, all things considered, and Lily wasn't surprised – topped off by baby blue eyes that quickly changed to be identical to her own. Sirius stopped by regularly, happily playing with the child alongside James in their animagus forms, and little Peter always looked so nervous when he held the babe that Lily had to stop herself from laughing at him.
Life was as perfect as it could be when the country was tearing itself to pieces outside the walls of their cottage, and the Potters were content.
Then Harry's second Halloween happened. October 31st, 1981. Peter betrayed them.
When she'd heard the front door slam open and James call out to her with desperate panic in his voice, she had frozen for a moment. The only things that would bring that would be either one of his friends dying in the entrance way or Voldemort. Considering his second and third word were 'take Harry', she quickly assumed it was the latter.
James had kept his skills up in the practice room which used to be the guest bedroom, and while not a match for the latest Dark Lord he was skilled enough to buy his wife time. He saw her red hair, escaping from the coat she'd thrown around both herself and Harry as she escaped through the back door, run past the front gate as he kept the evil man in front of him too busy to turn around.
He saw her disappear up the cobblestones street and into the alleyway, his eyes resting on her as Voldemort grew irritated with the delay and took his life.
Lily ran as she had never run before, aiming to get out of Godric's Hollow and disappear somewhere in the Muggle world – Australia or South America sounded good right now. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to breath, hold her son tight to her chest and keep the coat she'd barely had the presence of mind to grab as she raced out of the house. James was dead, she knew it. He may have still been flinging curses at the Dark Lord when she had taken a risk and darted past the front of the house, but that wouldn't last long. Her only hope was that he died buying enough time for herself and Harry to get away.
The red head tried apparating as soon as she was able to, but the Dark Lord had been prepared and cast a ward over the entirety of the village. There would be no getting out via magical means that he knew of.
She stifled a shriek as she raced around a corner only to almost run into a Death Eater; obviously brought along in order to occupy any Phoenix members that may get wind of what he intended to do tonight who also knew the Potter's location, such as Sirius and Remus. Whipping out her wand, she cast a chain of spells that she wouldn't remember if pressed and raced the opposite direction instead, ignoring the muffled cries behind her as the pure-blooded idiot was taken by surprise.
A glance down at Harry's face showed he was still sleeping; she may have overpowered that sleeping charm a bit, but it was the first thing she thought of to keep the fifteen-month-old quiet so she could get them both away. Her feet traveled a well-worn path up Church Lane as she heard shouts go up and realized more Death Eaters were obviously about. It was a miracle she hadn't run into one yet, but Lily didn't like to rely on luck that much. It had a habit of turning sour at the worst possible moment.
The church and graveyard were empty when she arrived, and Lily dithered for a moment in the entryway. Where could she go from here? She dare not trust the woods – Fenrir Greyback was part of Voldemort's forces and she wouldn't be surprised if he was lurking around just waiting for some poor unfortunate to stumble into his territory, transformed or not.
It was in the moment of panic and indecision that her mind remembered the etchings she'd studied before Harry's birth; the portal. If she could get there, she may be able to activate it. Hopefully it would be enough to bypass whatever wards her pursuers had put up around the village due to its ancient nature hopefully being unknown to even Lord Voldemort. Hopefully it still works, she thought wryly to herself. It was her only hope.
The little alcove hadn't changed much in the year since she had been there; there was a slightly thinner layer of grime on the stone where she had rubbed away the muck, but the weeds were still there and the stone steps were still crumbling and the pillars still looked like they had seen better days. Lily rushed to lay Harry in the middle of the dais and clear as much mulch and overgrowth from the centre as possibly.
Her eyes alit on the rounded stone, still as green as ever, and desperately cast around for any others. Hidden in the tall grass was another which she literally tripped over and she decided to summon what others there may be to her instead of wasting time searching. A levitation and sticking charm had the stones back on top of their pillars, though each were at different heights due to the weathering on the ancient stone that made up the portal and Lily prayed it wouldn't affect anything.
She was experimenting with unknown magic out of sheer desperation. She wanted the portal – if it was indeed a portal or transportation device and not just some fancy stand for giving people lordships or some such rot – to be as close to its original condition as she could get it so as to encourage whatever functions it may have to work properly.
She scrubbed off more moss and grass, unveiling as much of the runework as she could in order to read it. The shouts were getting closer and Lily knew it wouldn't be long until she was found. If she was lucky – that damnable luck she didn't like relying on but was praying for as much as she possibly could – she might be able to get the device working before they found her.
A line of runes caught her eye, and Lily paled. Soul power. Powered by souls. It was a necromantic device, obviously placed in the graveyard of a magical community because of wizard's propensity for leaving ghosts and soul residue behind upon their death and well into their afterlife. It probably hadn't been used in so long it wouldn't have any power left at all, and not once had she ever seen a ghost haunting this graveyard despite what people said. The device had probably swallowed them all in the centuries – possibly even millennia – between now and whenever it had last been used.
"Fuck!" Lily screamed, though she instantly regretted it and rushed to Harry. She sat in the centre of the dais, rocking her sleeping toddler back and forth as she clutched him to her chest and fresh tears of despair ran down her cheeks. With shaky hands she brushed some of his hair out of his face and lay a kiss on his forehead. "Mummy loves you, Harry. Mummy would do anything – even a Merlin-forsaken necromantic ritual if she had the ghosts to power it – for you, Harry."
A slithering caught her ears, and she gently placed Harry back in the centre of the dais before standing and stepping off the stone and back only slightly soggy grass. A black shape seemed to meld from the darkness and she caught sight of red eyes lit by some inner light. Voldemort had found her, it seemed.
"Did you think you could run, mudblood?" He sneered, the reptilian lilt to his speech making her shudder. "Did you think you could escape and live?"
Lily knew she was going to die. There was no escaping now; Voldemort had her in his clutches, and she would die. All she could do was pray for Harry's survival. "Please, not Harry. Kill me, but don't kill Harry."
She threw her arms wide as though to shield the toddler from the snake-like man with her own body, and Voldemort laughed. It was a cruel, high pitched thing that spoke of many hours spent delighting in the pain of others, and Lily pleaded with her mind as well. Please, don't kill Harry. Please. Something, save him.
"Foolish girl. Stand aside." He commanded her, and though Lily was surprised he didn't simply kill her outright she still refused.
"Not Harry." She begged. Even if I die, something save him. Even if – a thought struck her then. Soul power. Necromantic device. Portal to predetermined location. Would one soul be enough to transport a mere babe between devices? – Even if I die, please, activate the portal and take him away.
"Stand aside!" Voldemort hissed as his eyes narrowed at the red haired witch.
"Not Harry!" She begged him once more instead, still thinking on her intent. Please. Use my soul to power the device and take him away from here. Even if I never see James again, even if I never get an afterlife, please, take him away from here. Let him live.
"Foolish girl!" Thoroughly incensed, Voldemort cast the Killing Curse he was well known for. Time seemed to slow for Lily as she watched it approach but made no move to defend herself or get out of the way.
Mummy loves you Harry. Mummy dies for you. Mummy gives up her soul for you. Live. Mummy loves you.
A lot of magic is based off intent; the intent to kill, the intent to heal, the intent to cause pain…the intent to use your very own soul to power a teleportation device and whisk your precious, so very loved child away from the evil man who sought to harm him. But even with all the intent in the world, one ordinary – if very bright and powerful – witch's soul is not enough to power a device that has gone unused for millennia. Not enough to transport one tiny baby, anyway.
Voldemort watched the idiotic mudblood fall, her head cracking against the shallow steps as she landed on her back. Even if she somehow survived the Killing Curse, she wouldn't survive a blow to the head like that. He watched as a dribble of blood filled a couple of the worn and faded runes etched into whatever the dais was meant to be – he'd never seen anything like it, perhaps he could study it after he'd killed both boys the prophecy referred to? – before stepping over the legs of her corpse and sneering down at the sleeping toddler.
As if some stupid little brat could ever hope to defeat him, he sneered. He raised his wand and cast the Killing Curse one last time for the evening, intent on destroying the half-blood and returning to the grovelling faces of his minions victorious.
Half formed magic born of love and intent mixed with a necromantic device designed to power itself with the souls of the undead and currently partially powered by a dying witch's love and soul that she had freely given up in order to activate it rose and lashed out at the evil wizard. Voldemort's soul was a tortured thing, with many parts cut off and stored in various objects in a facsimile of immortality, and the device hungrily tore at what remained in his body. A tiny sliver broke off as it panicked, registering that whatever was happening couldn't be good, and dove for the nearest safe point – the body of the toddler still sleeping in the centre of the dais.
His body fell backwards, not a mark on it, as all the Death Eaters in the village felt their forearms burn before a weight they hadn't even known existed was lifted. As they glanced around in confusion malachite light that swiftly turned a brilliant blue light up the night sky from the direction of the church, attracting the attention of everything still awake and alive in the surrounding area. Rather than stay and deal with whatever was making that light, the Death Eaters dropped the wards and apparated out of Godric's Hollow. Far better in their minds to deal with irate Voldemort back at the mansion than deal with whatever made their marks burn so furiously and lit the sky so brightly.
A great many people passed through the area, including Sirius Black and Rubeus Hagrid. One of the later arrivals was Albus Dumbledore, come to investigate what had happened to Lily as only James had been found in the mostly intact house. He followed the trail to the graveyard, where he found the cold body of Voldemort collapsed on top of the stone dais inlaid with what looked like malachite, with Lily's own body lying almost next to it. There was no sign as to what killed Voldemort, though Lily seemed to have suffered a serious head wound in the fight and had most likely died of bleeding on the brain.
He would have said that Lily defeated the Dark Lord herself were it not for two things. First was that Voldemort's robes and feet were actually lying on top of Lily's hair, which meant he had to have stepped on it. Second was that there was no trace of little Harry Potter anywhere in sight – not even a mark or scrap of cloth from the boy's pyjamas.
In the following days, Harry was declared a Saint by the people for destroying Voldemort at the cost of his very existence, Lily and James received post-mortem Order of Merlin's, First Class, for fighting him and ultimately creating the very Saint that ended his life. Voldemort's body was burned and his ashes buried in a location kept under Fidelius, with an extremely old witch as the secret keeper. She died a year later, taking the location to the grave with her.
Sirius was imprisoned in Azkaban after being framed by Peter for revealing the Potter's location to Voldemort. Severus went to work for Dumbledore as part of his atonement. The Dursley's never had to deal with the Potter child ending up on their doorstep and were quite content with their lot (even managing to not spoil Dudley rotten).
And in the years that followed, Halloween became a day of celebration and was announced as a Wizarding Holiday – St Harry Day, in thanks of the toddler who obliterated himself in order to kill the greatest Dark Lord the Wizarding World had ever known – of that century anyway.