Disclaimer- I do not own any similarities to J. K. Rowlings masterpiece and am not making any source of income other than sheer pleasure by writing this.

A/N- This is Harry in a medieval story. Harry is thrown into a cruel world where violence is common and friendships aren't as easy to come by. I haven't had any luck writing drama romance stories so I decided to try an action/adventure story. Please leave me a review if you think I should continue this story or if the idea is a complete flop. You know I love to hear from you.

In the land of Hogwarts a peace, if shaky, reigned for many years. The vast land was divided into four countries that cared very little for one another. To the west, was the rugged land of Hufflepuff. Lead by the kind ruler Madam Sprout, they were the friendliest of the four. Although very little trading occurred, Hufflepuff was acknowledged as the most generous and trustworthy. This disposition of trust has made them an easy target to be walked on and thought of as weak. The east was the forested land of Ravenclaw. Under the supervision of Arch sage Flitwick, the land is hailed as the forest of knowledge. Very few ever question his knowledge and easily assume his word as truth. This country's vast knowledge is guarded so safely that they have isolated themselves from the rest of Hogwarts, knowing little of what happens beyond their book covered walls. Mountains span the majority of the northern country of Slytherin. Although there is no formal leader, Severus Snape controls much of the affairs of the land. No man, woman or child dare walk this land unarmed for fear of their life. It is common for people to wake with a knife in their back or hand in their pocket. Finally to the south is an ocean of fertile farm land. Queen McGonagall watches over this peaceful land of Gryffindor. Known for their unfaltering courage, they boast the strongest military force. Although rarely used, every soldier fights, willing to die for what is right.

It was near the border of Gryffindor that the Potter farm flourished. This farm was one of the oldest and well known properties in all the land. James and Lily lived comfortably with their son Harry for years. The farm was vast and kept the family busy through most of the year. James never hired and help because, as he frequently told his son,

"A man earns more than wealth by working his own land."

Harry on the other hand, never listened. He hated the farm, never liked waiting for plants to grow. He was more captivated by the stories of battles led by the army and wished his parents would give someone else the land so he could pursue his dream. No such thing would happen and Harry was sure, being an only child, that he would grudgingly inherit the farm and be forever doomed to be a farmer. Fate had other plans and quickly shown as much as soon as Harry turned fifteen. The doctor had just left on his horse after an extended stay and Harry feared his inheritance would come sooner than expected. It wasn't until his father came out and announced that Lily was pregnant did Harry's fears turn to joy. His head refilled with dreams of battle and war, Harry went to continue his chores. The sun quickly set and Harry thought he heard horses. Grabbing his torch, Harry went to investigate. Soon half a dozen hooded mounted figures rode past him, knocking him to the ground. As soon as Harry regained his feet and breath, Harry ran home seeing an eerie orange glow emanating near his home. His worry soon turned to fear when his house came into view. The flames lit the sky like a new rising sun. The figures, now off their mounts, were huddled near the door. Harry's feet acted on their own as he flew to these strangers, and all feelings turned to pure rage when he saw what the reason for the huddle was. Lily lay on the porch, bleeding profusely from the many gashes strewn across her body. James, looking as wounded as his motionless wife, stood defiantly with a sword in hand.

"Dad!"

Harry wasn't sure how he formed the words but the attention was soon shifted towards him. James gave a devious smile as he tossed the sword straight into the air moments before a blade pierced his chest, stealing the light from his face. The smile never left his lips as he fell limply against the blood stained dirt. Harry closed his eyes as he felt the burn of tears starting. His attention shifted when he heard the sound of steel entering dirt and opened his eyes. In front of him the sword came to a rest, half buried in the dirt. Without a second thought, he freed the blade form its place and swung it in the directions of the smiling beasts that took his family from him.

"The boy has spirit. Pettigrew, take the sword."

The voice had an unnatural hiss as it reached Harry's ear, but it did nothing to break his blind rage. A figure, not much bigger than Harry, approached with an extended hand. Harry swung with his eyes closed and felt him hit the ground as he swung swiftly through the air. Pettigrew snarled and drew his own blade. Opening his eyes, Harry saw the man advance and swung the blade upwards, fearing his inexperience would be his demise and he would join his family on the ground. However, it felt as if Harry's entire soul went flowed into the blade and as soon as the two metals made contact, Pettigrew's sword shattered. Without time to react, Harry's sword had thrust itself deep into the chest of the bewildered attacker. Pettigrew slowly slid off the steel and Harry had to catch his breath when he saw the deep green light now emanating from his weapon. It wasn't until he heard the unfriendly hiss, did Harry's attention return did he remember his original thoughts.

"So, the boy is a spell sword. Fine I will take it myself. My fellow death eaters, return to base. I shall arrive shortly with the treasure in hand."

As soon as the hissing stopped Harry was left alone with the man. Harry did not care that he was unarmed; he charged and held the now green blade held high. Swinging down with all his might, Harry was shaken when he felt a solid resistance. In awe, he saw the edge of his blade stopped just short of a pale hand which was shrouded in its own darkness. The man's growl made Harry prepare for a counter attack. Nothing in Harry's imagination could prepare him for what happened next. A bright bold of lightning shot from the darkened hand and struck the point of the blade. Again, the man growled and hissed as he held himself straighter.

"We will meet again boy, and when we do it will be that blade that will protrude from your back."

With that, the figure became incased in a black smoke and soon disappeared. Shaking himself from the shock of all that had transpired, Harry ran to his father's body. Tears finally fell from Harry's dry eyes as the realization that his entire life was now engulfed in flames or drowning in blood. He laid his head on his father's chest and gripped his icy hand. He felt something clenched in his death grip, and struggled to free it. His breath caught when he saw it was a note quickly scribbled, addressed to him.

Son

Do not lose the sword. Find the Order. Remember we love you.

Dad and Mom.

A fresh set of tears fell as he saw the ruby scabbard laying next to his mother's body. Quickly fitting it to his back along with the blade, Harry put the bodies of his parents together in the field. Taking a burning piece of the house and placing it across them, Harry made a solemn vow.

"They will pay. He will pay, or I will die trying. I will see you again Mom and Dad. I love you both."

Drying his eyes with his sleeve, Harry gathered what he could from the still smoldering building and headed south. To where he was uncertain, but with one final look at his parent's note, Harry decided he needed to be stronger. He knew of one way to do that.