Harry Gaunt
Chapter One – The World Cup
"Lily, my flower, have I told you that you are the nicest bestest wife ever," said James while trying to school his features into that of an innocent young boy. His unruly black hair and skewed glasses, however, destroyed the whole image.
"I'm also your only wife and you better not forget it," scowled Lily playfully glancing at her beloved husband of two years. Lily was scourgifying the morning's dirty dishes. "What do you want, now, James? You have that look."
"My gosh! Can't I even compliment my wife without being rebuked?" whined James. "You needn't get so suspicious Lily dear."
Lily laughed and sent the dishes flying back into the cupboards above the sink. She turned around to James and crossed her arms. She looked straight at him. "Ok, James, spill. Now."
James grinned sheepishly. "Sirius and I want to take Harry with us to the Quidditch World Cup. My son needs to be introduced to the delight of quidditch. What say you, oh, Honorable Wife?"
"Absolutely not," Lily instantly replied. "There is no way I'm letting you take my baby to be crushed and deafened and—"
"Oh come on, Lily, do you really think I'd let harm come into Harry's way?" James pleaded. "You know Sirius and me got prime tickets in a Top Box. No chances of getting crushed by the masses there! I'll be watching Harry every second, I promise, honey."
"How can you watch him every second if you're watching the chasers and the beaters," retorted Lily. "And even Death Eaters could get tickets to Top Boxes!"
"Lily, I know you're worried about the World Cup getting attacked, but really, we'll be fine!" said James. "The ministry has overdone itself in terms of security. There'll be aurors posted at every entrance as well as inside the stadium. Hell, there's even a bunch of Unspeakables going undercover as fans. Voldemort won't dare show up!"
Lily just scowled at him, her lips in a thin line.
James took the few steps that separated him and his wife. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the nose. "Don't be so tense, Lily. I'll keep Harry on my lap the whole time and if there are any signs of trouble, I'll apparate away immediately. Sirius will be there to protect us too, you know.
Lily softened at Sirius' mention. "He's more likely to get you two in bigger trouble," she mumbled.
James grinned at her, knowing he had won. "I'll go get Harry. We'll probably be back around tomorrow evening. Sirius got his hands on this super-deluxe wizard tent."
James ran up two stairs at a time and came back down with one-year old Harry in his arms. Harry was clutching his green blankie.
"I've got his knapsack with the diapers, his puree and his milk," said James. "We'll be going then. I'll miss you, wife-o-mine."
Lily smiled lovingly at them. She kissed Harry on his forehead. "See you tomorrow, my little bundle of sunshine."
Lily turned to face James. "Now go, you big ball of trouble, before I change my mind and hide Harry back in his nursery," she threatened.
James grinned once again and, after one last parting-kiss, left the house. Sirius was waiting outside in his animagus form, bumbling around joyfully.
Lily walked to the window and put delicate fingers on the glass. She reluctantly watched as James headed towards the nearest Portkey with Harry sitting on his shoulders and Sirius running after them. Little Harry was squealing in delight. Lily wished fervently that the quidditch match would be a short one and that they would soon be back safely at her side.
oooooooooooooooooooo
"So she let you bring Harry after all," said Sirius while squinting at the rising sun. "How did you convince her, Prongs?"
"It's the old Potter charm, my dear Padfoot," laughed James. He tickled his giggling son under the chin. "Harry, here, will be a Hogwarts' favorite in a few years to come."
Sirius groaned amicably. "What Potter charm? You do realize it took you almost three years to get Lily to go out with you? And then another two years of relentless pursuing to get her to marry you?"
"Well it worked in the end," scoffed James, good-naturedly. "No need to be jealous, Padfoot, old friend."
"What have I done to deserve a blow like that," said Sirius. He turned to Harry who was perched on top of James' shoulders. "When you're older, pup, Uncle Padfoot and you are going to set Hogwarts amok," said Sirius to the gurgling boy.
"And most likely, Lily will have my hide," groaned James, carefully stepping over a large root that was sticking out of the ground. "We'll just have to make sure she doesn't know, eh son?"
Harry only giggled more.
"Oh there's the Portkey," Sirius pointed at an old boot. No one else had shown up.
As they approached the Portkey, James glanced at Sirius. "Seriously, Padfoot, have you taken any thoughts to settling down yet? I want to see you happy, you know, not changing girls every two, three weeks. Harry, here, needs playmates, you know."
Sirius looked at the forest on their left before he shook his head. "I can't, Prongs. You know why. I want the Black line to finish with me."
James looked tortured for a second and then he said: "Sirius, what your family is and has done has nothing to do with you. You're your own person. Hell, change your name to Potter. It's not as if I haven't considered you as a brother and my parents, bless them, as a son. You can't go on making decisions that'll only end up hurting you because you want to revenge yourself on your family. You deserve to be happy, Sirius."
Sirius didn't answer. He looked somber and unlike his playful self. The trio had arrived in front of the Portkey. The activation time was scheduled for in five minutes.
At that moment, Harry decided to utter his first words. "P-Paddy."
The two adults stared at him. Harry grinned. "P-Paddy!"
"My son just called me Daddy! I could cry of joy!" said James, his eyes shining with pride.
"You sure, Prongs? I was under the impression Harry just said Paddy, as in the shortened version of Padfoot," Sirius smirked at his best friend, before looking at Harry. "Your Godfather has received your message, pup."
Harry laughed in his baby gurgle and pulled on James' ears. "Paddy!"
James winced and then turned his nose up at Sirius. "Ummph, Harry meant Daddy of course, he's just confused with his words."
Sirius pinched James on the cheek and laughed. "C'mon, the Portkey's going to activate."
And just before the Portkey activated, Sirius looked up at James and said: "And you're right, Prongs, I deserve happiness. Thanks."
oooooooooooooooooooo
The Minister of Magic wiped his brow with his soaked handkerchief. The back of his suit had that patch of wet stain that left no doubt about the Minister's nervousness. He had just been informed of an attack in a small muggle village in Glascow.
These days, Death Eater attacks occurred often and in unpredictable locations. An attack on a muggle settlement was regular news in these troubled times. Today, however, the Minister was more jumpy than usual because the Quidditch World Cup was being held under his jurisdiction.
And so, when an auror had popped his head into his fire, the Minister had jumped in frightened anticipation.
"It's the World Cup, isn't it? Oh Merlin, tell me, auror?" the Minister had said. But it was only a minor scuffle in Glascow. The Minister was thankful—for the moment anyway. The day was far from being over.
The Minister settled back to his desk to tidy up his affairs. He was scheduled to show up an hour before the Cup began. He had to put in some good words for the British Wizarding World. He had, after all, allowed the World Cup to proceed despite the dangers that You-Know-Who presented.
At the time, The Minister of Magic had wanted to uplift the wizarding world's mood by going through with their national sport. But now, with all the extra work the Cup had brought, he wasn't so sure anymore. Nevertheless, after today, the whole thing would be over and the wizarding world could go back to being gloomy and wary.
The Minister wiped his brow again and prepared to floo over to the stadium.
And then, it happened. Lucius Malfoy slipped into his office and pointed his wand at the Minister of Magic. "IMPERIO."
oooooooooooooooooooo
After James and Harry had left with Sirius, Lily put on some gloves and went outside in the front yard to tend to her garden. She watered the flowers, picked out the dead leaves and shaped some bushes. Thus, she was outside when Albus fire-called her. He was also unable to floo to Godric's Hollow due to several protection wards in place.
Albus had an urgent message for the Potters concerning a certain prophecy he'd heard from Sibyl Trelawney the night before. This was something he'd have to relay to the Potters personally. The Longbottoms had already been informed and put under the Fidelius Charm. The same would have to be done for the Potters.
Dumbledore apparated to the limit of the Potter domain before hopping onto a broom. Time was short, the spy would have reported to Voldemort already.
It was already past noon when Dumbledore found Lily, her head stuck amongst rose bushes, painstakingly trying to get to a tulip bulb behind them. Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the sight of the young redhead. Lily's understanding of plants had certainly helped her in potions, in which she excelled, Dumbledore remembered fondly.
Dumbledore walked up to her and coughed. "Good morning, Lily."
Lily jumped and instantly flipped around, her wand pointed at him.
"Oh Albus! You startled me," she said and lowered her wand. "I'm sorry, I've been outside all morning trying to subdue these unreasoning plants. Are you looking for James?"
"Actually, I came to speak to both of you. It is a matter of utmost urgency, I'm afraid. It concerns the future of your son."
"Oh God!" cried Lily, standing up abruptly. "Did something happen to Harry or James?"
"No, no. I don't believe we have to worry yet, but it would be wise to make preparations. I have been told a prophecy, you see. It is very likely that the outcome of this prophecy will involve your son and Voldemort."
Lily paled. She took off her gloves and threw them on the ground beside her gardening tools. "You had better come in for a cup of tea then, Albus," Lily said. "I'll try to contact James."
Dumbledore nodded graciously and followed her into the house.
oooooooooooooooooooo
James, Sirius and Harry were having a bomb at the Quidditch World Cup. It was Germany versus Portugal and the fans were screaming themselves hoarse.
James was pressing his omniculars so close that his glasses pressed painfully into his face Harry was bouncing on James lap, not oblivious to the excitement around him. Sirius was stuffing his face and every time Portugal scored, he'd lose half his caramel popcorn in a fit of roaring triumph.
The Quidditch World Cup was indeed an intoxicating experience, thought James. The atmosphere was great. Weather was good. The game was exciting. They were sitting in a Top Box with high officials and even the Minister of Magic himself! Harry was enjoying his first quidditch match. Voldemort was quiet. Sirius' wounds towards his family had begun to heal.
James gave Harry a big wuzzy kiss on the cheek. Yes, life was simply good today.
oooooooooooooooooooo
"STUPEFY!" shouted Lily, her wand pointed at a Death Eater standing near the fireplace. He dropped down and was quickly replaced by another who had just walked in the front door.
There were too many of them. They had appeared just when Dumbledore and her had settled down to discuss the prophecy. And now, the Death Eaters just kept coming. Lily frantically waved her wand at the approaching Death Eater. "HURTILEX!"
The Death Eater stumbled and fell to his knees. He was hurling out the inside of his body: food, stomach, intestines and liver. The curse Lily had used was particularly dark but she was cornered and cornered people will sometimes do things that they'd be horrified to do in normal circumstances.
Dumbledore was fighting against six Death Eaters. He was cool as a cucumber and flinging transfigured objects at the Death Eaters as well as in front of himself. He animated the Potter's Gryffindor lion statue and sent it charging at a Death Eater that had just began to mutter the killing curse.
In the middle of the fight, a Death Eater previously dueling with Dumbledore twisted his torso around and sent a spell rushing at Lily. The spell hit her and she was sent crashing, head first, out of the window. She lay dazed, surrounded by a pool of glass and blood, her wand nowhere near her. A Death Eater was striding towards her fallen figure with the intent of killing.
But a Potter was not so easily defeated, especially not a female one. With pain lashing through her ribs and her head, Lily fumbled beside her until her hands set onto the gardening tools she'd left lying around earlier. She didn't think. She just threw the tool right at the Death Eater.
The small rake with four points, useful for gardening, had turned deadly when it embedded itself into the surprised Death Eater's throat. The blood stained his black robes.
Lily, fighting loss of consciousness, dizzily crawled to where her wand lay. She clutched it with her left hand, her right wrist being in tatters. She pointed to a Death Eater who had backed up onto the front porch. "SECTUMSEMPRA!" she cried. She'd learned that one from Snape, back in school. The Death Eater gushed blood.
Lily lay on the ground panting, her head swimming. She heard Death Eaters yelling. They were fleeing into the forest and apparating away. Lily saw Dumbledore running towards her. Her last thought was on her husband and her baby. Her world blackened.
oooooooooooooooooooo
Lily woke up in St-Mungo's. Her head ached a thousand deaths and her body felt as if it had been torn apart and stitched back together.
"J-James, Harry," she mumbled. "J-James?" She blinked. Her husband was standing over her, anxiously looking at her. James wanted to hug her, to smother her in kisses, but he didn't want to hurt her in the process. He settled for kissing her hand repeatedly.
"Oh God, Lily!" said James shakily. "We weren't sure if you'd ever wake up! I was so worried." He looked worn, like he had aged twenty years in the space of a day.
"You've been asleep for three weeks, Lily," James explained. "If it hadn't been for Dumbledore intervening so fast…" He shuddered at the thought.
"J-James, what about Harry? Is Harry alright?"
James looked suddenly tired, and grim. His dry eyes seemed to beg to let the flow ravage his face. But James didn't cry, instead he said: "Lily, he—he was taken."
Lily stared at him.
"Three weeks ago, at the World Cup," James said grimly. "Harry was taken by the Minister of Magic to be handed over to Voldemort."
Lily didn't cry. She didn't yell. She didn't slap James. She didn't try to get up to go find her first-born. Instead, she fainted.
ooooooooooooooooooo
Severus Snape stared in disgust at the one-year-old baby. He would have gladly let the child fall to his death after the Minister had thrown him over the banister. But the Dark Lord would've had Severus' hide, crucioing him into his next life. Severus had accio'd the child and disapparated. The blame had fallen on the Minister of Magic—the whole wizarding world had been shaken.
Severus rued the day he'd heard the first half of the prophecy and faithfully reported it to the Dark Lord. He spared another sneering look at the child. The child was truly a Potter, right down to the unruly hair. But he had Lily's eyes, and Severus softened at the memory of Lily. She'd been an ok mudblood. They had been friends—Snape and Evans, the unlikely potions duo—until she started going out with Potter and hanging out with his Gryffindor posse. Severus had never gotten over her betrayal despite the fact she'd wanted to stay friends.
And now he had the Potters' precious child—the child of the prophecy, who had, just hours before, defeated the Dark Lord.
Severus and Lucius had brought the child to the Manor. The Dark Lord wanted the child—wanted him dead. The Dark Lord had pointed his wand at the child's head and had said with triumph in his rasp voice: "Avada Kedavra." And then the Dark Lord was dead, the curse having rebounded onto him.
The child had cried but hadn't seemed worse off, except for the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. He had immediately gone back to sleep.
The days after a baby vanquished the Dark Lord were chaotic. Death Eaters had, at first, turned themselves in. But Bartemius Crouch, who had taken over the post of Minister of Magic, possessed an iron fist and all were sentenced to Azkaban despite pleas of being imperiused. Many Death Eaters simply disappeared off the face of the Earth.
Some, like Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson tried to buy their way out. They didn't count on Crouch's pure hatred of the Dark Arts and his relentless pursuit to get any Death Eaters jailed. They fled, leaving family and wealth behind.
That left Severus, Bellatrix and the baby. They were standing in a forest clearing. The child was crawling around and trying to catch butterflies.
"We must kill the child and find the Dark Lord," Bellatrix spat at Severus, her dark eyebrows furrowed. She waved her arms wildly. "The Dark Lord has taken measures to ensure his immortality. He is still alive."
"How do you suppose to kill the child when the Dark Lord was unable to?" sneered Snape, jerking his head in the child's direction. "We had better keep him alive and bring him to wherever the Dark Lord is hiding. What if the Dark Lord needs the brat for his resurrection?"
Bellatrix stayed silent but she glared at Snape. She stomped to the spot of grass where Harry was rolling around and grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck. She threw him on her shoulders. "And don't you dare pull my hair, you horrible brat!" she warned him. Harry simply giggled.
Severus transfigured a bone into a mangled body of a child and left it in the Manor. He let drops of blood purloined from the child drip onto the doppleganger. If the Order showed up and found the corpse, they'd stop looking for the boy. He quickly walked out and went back to Bellatrix who was waiting with brooms in the forest clearing, the boy asleep and slumped on her shoulders.
"Let's go find our Master," she said at the sight of him. Severus nodded tersely and they flew into the night.
ooooooooooooooooooo
Fifteen years later – Godric's HollowLily was fingering the well-worn green blankie of her first-born, on her knees, in the attic. He would have been sixteen today. She didn't cry. She'd exhausted her tears fifteen years ago when she'd first been faced with Harry's kidnapping and then later, with the small decaying corpse found at Voldemort's headquarters.
Harry had indeed defeated Voldemort, but at the cost of his own young life. It was believed that angry Death Eaters had killed him. Harry, her son, became famous as the cause of Voldemort's defeat. The papers called him the boy-who-died-to-save-us-all.
But for the Potter's, he'd always be Harry, the one we lost. Lily tightened her hold on the blankie. She pressed it to her cold dry lips.
Lily was putting the blankie away in the chest that contained Harry's stuff when James entered the room. He hugged her from behind and shared her grief. James had never truly forgiven himself for having let the Minister grab Harry. Lily had never truly forgiven him either. But the days of Voldemort had been harsh and cruel.
In the end, they had blamed the Minister, who had organized the Quidditch World Cup, who had pushed to have it in Britain, who had grabbed Harry and thrown him away to Voldemort.
They blamed Voldemort, but he was dead and had gotten what he deserved. Life had to go on.
Lily turned her head around and smiled at James. "We should go down to Jeremy or he'll be whining that we don't spend enough time together again."
James kissed her neck and held her hand as they made their way down from the attic and the painful memories it held.
Jeremy, their second son, was in the kitchen, attempting to make pancakes. He grinned sheepishly as they entered the room. "Dudley taught me," he explained. "He said I could make them low-fat and all."
Ever since Harry was killed, Lily had felt protective of what family she had left and had thus renewed contact with her sister Petunia. They limited talk of magic to a minimum and had their sons spend time together. Jeremy helped his older cousin keep in shape and Dudley taught Jeremy the art of muggle cooking. They got along fairly well.
"Dudley told me he'd lost five pounds eating these,"Jeremy said to his mother. "Even Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have taken a liking to them."
Lily, openly laughing now, pushed back her sleeves and went to help her son. James, smiled evenly, and added some blueberries to the yellow mixture. "You need your fibers, son," he said. "They might as well taste good."
The Potter household was jolly once again.
ooooooooooooooooooo
The lost one, the Potter referred to as the boy-who-saved-us-all, was eating his way through an angel food cake, covered with fresh whipped cream and recently picked raspberries.
It was his birthday. No one openly celebrated his birthday, but he'd always get a cake for breakfast. Harry believed it amused his guardians to strike his fancy. Harry was a glutton for angel food cake.
He took a last bite before instructing a house-elf to cover the cake and leave it in his rooms. He'd finish it later in the evening. He'd learned not to overeat at the age of seven after a particularly disastrous encounter with double-chocolate covered éclairs that had been prepared for his guardians' guests. Not only had he given himself indigestion, he'd gotten a major spanking.
No, Harry would certainly not overeat. He would indulge himself and stop there. Harry wiped his mouth with the gold-threaded napkin. He stood up and threw the napkin on the table. He ate alone in his rooms. Family dinners were for weak-hearted fools.
Harry thanked the house-elf and dismissed it. He was always polite to inferior creatures. It separated him from them.
He walked to his closet and went through it, looking for a particular set of dark green robes he liked. He pulled on a pair of dragon scale boots and stuck his hands into the matching fingerless-gloves—protection without lessening dexterity. Harry picked up his wand and headed to the dueling arena.
He was meeting Severus there.
Severus watched as his young charge entered the dueling arena. Harry approached soundlessly and moved in the shadows of the room. The boy could have been invisible had Severus not been waiting for him. He stood in front of Snape and remained impassive as Severus scrutinized his features.
Severus took in the boy's pale face, his high cheekbones and the sleek wavy hair. Harry's glamoured face was kept in place by a charm pendant he wore around his neck. The pendant hadn't been taken off for years. The boy's emerald eyes and scar were left unchanged. Neither, despite the strong complex charm applied, could be successfully covered for more than a minute or two. The magic simply got absorbed. Severus found the whole thing extremely vexing.
Severus couldn't help but be a bit proud of his young charge. Despite his Potterness, the boy had been raised like a Snape and in a sense, like a Lestrange. Harry called the Dark Lord, Grandfather, much to the amusement of the Dark Lord and the rest of the household.
Bellatrix was away on a mission. For the last three years, she had been in charge of recruiting new Death Eaters and rounding up the old ones. The Dark Lord, still weak from his transformation, would not be able to make his comeback for another year or so. Their search for him had only ended five years ago.
It had been Harry, using the reptilian network, who had gotten word of where the Dark Lord's was hiding. Snakes on the way had hissed him the directions of a forest where silence reigned and a dark shadow sucked life out of the animals.
It had been difficult to get the Dark Lord back to Britain, but they did it, painstakingly. But the Dark Lord, without his primary wand, was limited in the magic he could do. So for the moment, their side was slowly building up their forces, acquiring information and infiltrating the different strata of the wizarding world.
Severus, himself, was mostly in charge of Harry's education as well as preparing the potions that sustained the Dark Lord.
However, today wasn't the day for Severus to reminisce on the past. He quickly dismissed his thoughts on the past and focused on his young charge. They wouldn't be duelling today or learning new brewing methods until later in the afternoon. There were more pressing things in the meantime.
"The Dark Lord has summoned you," Severus simply said. "He is waiting for you."
The only sign Harry gave that he'd acknowledged the information was a curt nod.
Severus turned around and signaled Harry to follow him. He paused in front of the Dark Lord's private quarters and knocked twice.
"Enter," the rasp voice said.
And they went in.
The Dark Lord was seated in chair that was, if not throne-like, imposing enough. He had a fist folded under his chin and his brilliant red eyes stared at the two people standing before him.
"Bellatrix has discovered the location of my wand," the Dark Lord said. "Harry, I need you to attend a ball that will be held in Hogwarts in two weeks time."
A/N: I wrote this story ages ago but never put it up. Credit for the idea goes to Kurinoone. Her story 'Darkness Within' is well-written, complex and long enough to satisfy even the pickiest of us even if it's WIP. Go read it.