Author's Note at the end! Please read!
Warning: This story, at some point, will contain swear words. Don't read if you don't like it.
Moment 1: Prologue
Harry Meets Amelia
It was a warm day, and Harry had just returned home at his job at the Ministry in time for dinner. The kids were still not back yet from their last term at Hogwarts, though he knew they would return any day now. He almost missed the ruckus that they caused, but he was looking forward to a quiet dinner tonight. Tonight was a night he was glad it was quiet, so he could be alone with his thoughts. Tonight was special—tonight was the anniversary of Sirius Black's death.
Harry had loved his parents, and every year he felt a pang when he walked by their grave in Godric's Hallow, where he and his young wife had moved, on the day of their death. But he had only really known them for a year of his life, despite their lasting effects on it, and he really couldn't remember it that well—not to blame him, it is quite hard to remember things when you're not even a year old. But Sirius Black, his godfather, Harry had known him for three years of his life, years he still remembered well, and despite the fact that Sirius had been, at the time, running from Dementors and the like (as he had been wrongly accused of killing several people) Harry had always thought of him as an important mentor in his life. So tonight, on the anniversary of his death, Harry often was overwhelmed with thoughts of how many things he wished Sirius had been alive for—his wedding, the birth of his children, the first time he had ever sent a child off to Hogwarts. So he liked it quiet.
"Ginny? I'm home," he called as he entered the small house.
"Ah, yes! I'll be right down for dinner, dear, I just have make sure the laundry's done," yelled Ginny, his wife, as she came down the stairs. "It's in the oven if you want to start setting the table, and—" she continued to yell some other inane things, mostly about potholders and flying charms, and what her mother had written to her today, despite the fact that she was in the same room as Harry himself.
"Dear? Dear!" Harry interrupted, grasping his wife's shoulder. "I'm right here, no need to shout. I'll go set the table."
"Oh, right. Yes, thank you," Ginny said vaguely, flipping through some books and posts while simultaneously waving her wand at a pile of laundry that had flown down the stairs with her. Harry shook his head, smiling a bit. He often theorized that his wife's upbringing in a house several stories tall, used to house two parents, seven siblings, and one poltergeist had had residual effects on her. He often thought that she forgot their home in Godric's Hallow wasn't nearly as tall or as crowded as the Burrow was, and so acted as though they were there. It was cute, though sometimes it did hurt his ears.
Harry went into the kitchen with this thought putting a smile on his face and began to set the table for dinner, and a few minutes later, both he and his wife had sat to eat and tell each other about their day. After Ginny had retired from the Harpies, her stories had become all the more interesting, as now she received dirt on every Quidditch team in the world, along with the scandals of the office. Usually, Harry enjoyed listening to his wife talk about her day, if only to see how happy it made her, but tonight he just couldn't concentrate. The loss of Sirius was haunting him badly.
"Oh, Harry, I forgot to tell you, you got a package in the post today," Ginny said as she got up to put the dishes in the sink. With a flick of her wand, the dishes began to clean themselves as Ginny moved to the pile of letters on the counter. Harry had a strong sense of the growing resemblance of his wife to her mother, though he couldn't say he disliked it. He loved Molly, who was one of the most kind-hearted and warm people he had ever met. He just lamented his poor ears.
"From a 'Zephyra Anne Boot (previously Cameron)'. Wasn't there a Boot in your year?" she said, holding out the letter and small square package to him.
"Yeah," Harry said, taking it, "He was a Ravenclaw, I think. I wonder if this girl's related?"
Ginny tapped her chin with her finger. "'Zephyra Anne Cameron'…Zephyra Cameron…I feel as though I know that name, but I can't for the life of me remember why!"
Harry was opening the letter when his wife cried out, making him jump about a foot. For the safety of his ears, he thought, he really should look into some muffling techniques.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Now I remember! She was in my year at Hogwarts! Got sorted into Slytherin, so I never put too much stock in her, but I remember her being nicer than the whole lot of the rest of them put together. And I was her partner once in my Charms class! Ah, now I remember what was so different about her—she went to a Muggle primary school!"
"Really?" asked Harry, surprised. Not many wizards went to school, and certainly not many Slytherins.
"Yes! Got made fun of for it her whole time, now I remember, but she'd stick up for her house members if she thought they'd got the wrong end of it! And, oh yes! She was a Bangcroft!"
"A who?"
"Oh, forty years and you still have so much to learn," Ginny said, smiling at him sweetly. "A Bangcroft. They're a wizarding family, and they ship brooms. Started developing a few, too, some years back. The girl who invented the Firebolt? A Bangcroft."
"Really?" Harry stared at the letter in astonishment. "Well, I wonder what this is about?" He carefully slid the letter out of its envelope, then began to quickly read. After only a few seconds, Harry sucked in a breath and stated, "I think I'll read this in the study."
His wife, who was already preoccupied with yelling at the dishes because, apparently, they hadn't cleaned themselves well enough, gave a dismissive 'alright' as Harry quickly made his exit.
When Harry arrived in his study, he quickly locked the door and turned on the light behind his favorite leather chair before taking a seat and reexamining the letter, his eyes drawn to the one phrase that had him, tonight of all nights, positively shaking with anticipation. 'Sirius Black'.
Dear Mr. Harry Potter,
Hello, Mr. Potter, my name is Zephyra Boot (nee Cameron). I was a year behind you at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (I do remember being in a Charms class with one Ginny Weasley, so maybe she could tell you of me—and I was also good friends with Luna Lovegood, we visited the Thestrals together sometimes), but I am writing you at a request from my dear mother, now deceased.
My mother attended school with your parents, you see, and all their friends, including one Sirius Black. When she died, she gave me a journal from her time at Hogwarts and asked that it was sent to you, as she knows you are the last living person Sirius would ever consider family, and no one but family was allowed to see it. She said she hoped that it would bring closer to both Sirius and your parents.
I have enclosed the journal, which still has a small enchantment from my mother's days at Hogwarts (she was a particularly good enchantress) to keep people from reading it. You must write the password (enclosed) along with your name before you are allowed to read it. Fair warning, it is quite an absorbing story.
With best Wishes,
Zephrya Anne Boot,
Chief Broomcarver, amateur Wandmaker, C.E.O. of Bangcroft's Brooms Shipping and Supply
Harry eagerly picked up the simple, brown, paper wrapped package and tore into it, barely noticing the small piece of paper that fluttered to the ground, which had written on it, Snicker-Snack! Harry assumed this was the password. With a flick of his wand, a fountain pen (which he found he preferred much more than quills, which needed to be constantly sharpened) and a bottle of ink flew towards him to rest on the arm of the chair. Uncapping the ink, he delicately dipped his pen in, then began scratching 'Snicker-Snack!' and below that, 'Harry Potter' in his signature chicken script. The words faded into the page, and new words appeared below them in a tight, neat, whippy script that reminded Harry of the letter (in handwriting), as well as the dairy of Tom Riddle (in the sudden appearance of words). He saw,
Hello Harry. My name is Amelia Selene Bangcroft. Let me tell you about one Sirius Black…
And with that, Harry was sucked into the world of Hogwarts, 1970, when his parents and his godfather, Sirius Black, attended school with one Amelia Selene Bangcroft.
Author's Note: OMG, new stuff! I started this project awhile ago, and could never figure out how I wanted to format it, or where I wanted it to go, so...Now it's going! The beginning is mostly going to be divided up into 'Moments', like this one, since obviously I do not want to write seven books covering seven years of single moments. I think it would be incredibly boring to read through-plus, my ending's going to develop over time, from the first moment in Diagon Alley, to the moment Sirius and James join the Order of the Pheonix. Years will pass between moments, so be prepared. But I'll try not to leave anything out.
Over the next few days, I'll publish moments (one for every day) that begin the story. If you read the little preview that came out a few months ago (like many months ago), then that will be mostly what I'm talking about-though those were edited, so now you'll get the moment in its entirety.
Well, that's all for now, I think! Don't be afraid to comment! Bye-
Oh wait!
I still have no concrete title for this story-so any title suggestions in the days to come? Please and thank you!