Chapter 1 - Second Chances
Lord Voldemort sat alone in his self-styled throne room, pondering the words of his newest servant, Severus Snape, once more.
"'Defeat the dark lord'...inconceivable! ...Still, I suppose I shall have to dispose of the little upstarts soon."
"I'm afraid I can't allow that, Tom." A young man of about 25 entered the room confidently, as though meeting an old friend rather than the most feared dark lord of the century. He wore sunglasses and a cap - to hide his identity Voldemort assumed - but a telling mess of black hair could be seen beneath his cap.
"James Potter, a pleasure. Come to beg for the life of your son?"
"Sorry to disappoint, but my name is not James. You may call me the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice," replied the young man.
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense…But theirs is a story for another time, and much duller readers.
This is the story of a very special family, and a much more interesting place. The Potter residence in Godric's Hollow was a house full of life and love, and far too much strangeness for the Dursleys to bear.
On this fine summer's morning, Lily Potter and a short, strange creature known as a house elf were happily preparing a large lunch.
"Belle, could you please check on the pies?" Mrs Potter asked the house elf.
"Yes, yes, yes, Mistress Lily!" Belle squeaked happily.
Meanwhile, James Potter and a short, not-so-strange creature known as a Harry were outside tossing a bright red ball between them. Unlike in a normal father and son game of catch, this pair was a few meters above the ground, on a brand new pair of flying broomsticks with an engraved Nimbus 2000 on the side.
"Hey, Dad…" started Harry, "What time are Ron and Nev coming, again?"
"Still another hour before they get here, Harry. How about a bit of Seeking while we wait, loser does the dishes - by hand, of course."
A cheeky smirk crossed young Harry's face at this. "How about loser declares his undying love for Belle?"
"You're on!" yelled James, with a matching grin.
He let the first ball drop and pulled a small, golden ball from his robes, before letting that drop too. The golden ball sprouted a pair of tiny, silver wings and darted away; it was merrily chased by father and son, who exchanged teasing jibes and laughter all the while.
It was a jubilant, but tired Harry Potter that touched down an hour later, and a frowning, defeated James that followed a moment later.
"I swear, I would have had it if it wasn't for that crazy bird; little blighter had a death wish!"
"Would have, could have, didn't!" retorted Harry, poking out his tongue. "I think Belle is going to have her dream come true."
James grumbled good-naturedly as they walked back to the house, muttering to himself about a 'stupid ball of feathers'. The pair was welcomed home by a scream from the living room.
"AHH! Get it off! Get it off!" Neville Longbottom yelled as he frantically tried to stomp out green flames on his robes, and then to pull them off when that failed. He failed to notice the sticking charm on his robes, and that the flames didn't actually burn him. Even he couldn't miss James and Harry's loud laughter though. Sheepishly, he got to his feet and tried to ignore his flaming clothing.
"Har, har, you got me, Mr Potter. Would you mind putting it out now?"
With a flick of James' wand, the robe was back to normal.
"Thanks," Neville grinned, "Happy Birthday, Harry!"
"Thanks, Nev!"
A gangly, usually red-headed boy stepped through the green flames of the fireplace just then. Harry and Neville tried unsuccessfully to hide their laughter at this boy's new, flaming green hair.
Ron Weasley looked around confusedly.
"What? What'd I miss?"