Prologue: Lucas Lafayette

Description:

Lucas Lafayette finds out he is a wizard in 1992 and attends Hogwarts. Never having a normal family life, with a mother who died at 5 and his father a US General, moving from base to base, Lucas has never had friends. Then he meets Luna and things change. [OCxLuna], [GinnyXHarry]

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, just the ones that I have created for the purpose of the fanfiction writing.

Speech:

§Parseltongue§

"Normal conversation"

'Thoughts and occlumency'

"[French]"

Luna's Sight

Edit: Updated 01/15/2018, I have decided with my time off (or lack of work altogether) I'd update the chapters a little. Fixed formatting and updated.


"I experience for the American officers and soldiers that friendship which arises from having shared with them for a length of time dangers, sufferings, and both good and evil fortune." - Marquis de Lafayette

-LL-

I never knew my mother. Marie Lafayette died when I was at the young age of 5. I was too young to remember what happened, I just remember moving from my home in France to the unfamiliar United States to be with a father I never knew of. She was a beautiful woman, with blonde hair and blue eyes. My father, James Gilbert, 1st Star General of the United States Army tried to be a good parent, he really did. It's not like he didn't want a son, he really did want a son to pass down his knowledge and skills, he just didn't know how to raise me. I was broken. I was strange for a child. I could "speak" with snake's or at least they understood me. Other strange things happened when I got angry or showed strong emotions, like when I was 7, I was being chased by some bullies at school and "magically" appeared at home under my blanket. I also was able to make my hair change color depending on my mood, but after freaking out some people, I was able to control this skill. This made me place a mask of sorts on, keeping me from allowing these -happenings- to occur.

Everything changed in my life when my mother died. It was a simple fact; she held my life together and once she was gone, I changed, or at least that's how I felt. My father had said he had met my mother during his deployment in France but never was able to return due to the nature of his work. He had wished he could have stayed and started a life with her but he was ordered back after his mission was completed. Father always wanted to go back and find her but he doesn't remember why he did not. I never met him until the day of the funeral. Someone had once told me that death is not the end but just the beginning. I did not believe that to be so. I was torn, my heart and soul longing for my mother who was everything to me. When my father saw me at the funeral, he did not appear nervous...to be fair he was meeting a son he didn't know he had for 5 years and wasn't told about having one until the day his lost love passed from this earth. James was a big man, at six foot and five inches he had a demanding presence. Sandy brown hair, brown eyes. I don't know what I get from him physically aside from his stature. He is built strong with broad shoulders but he face is rough, hard around the edges. My face, so I am told as I cannot remember so much without looking at photos of her, were more like my mothers face. When he saw me, he seemed rigid at first, the military training taking over and keeping him standing straight, at attention. He seemed cold, distant. Then he noticed my tears. It was like a lightbulb flashed and he knew he wasn't talking to a cadet but a child; a child who just lost his mother. He knelt down and hugged me, whispering in my ear, "I am not much for hugs, but men should be able to cry when their hearts want." I looked at his face, a man who commands armed forces and he was trying hard to hold back tears. My mother meant something to him and it was tearing him up inside. That was when my tears stopped. I knew he was trying to be strong for me and I wanted to be strong for him. He smiled a deep smile that seemed to remove some of the old soul from his eyes and age him to a possible younger self. "Hello Lucas, I am your father. I...I know it will be difficult and I know that you don't know me well, ... I mean at all, but I promise I will raise you and keep you safe," he paused for a second to look me in the eyes, "and love you." Through my quivering lips, I mustered up my courage to say ["Oui, papa,"] my French causing my broken English. I knew from that first interaction, that I would be loved, even without any prior history of having met him before. I could see myself in him, the pain and strength he had.

-LL-

As I grew up, we moved a lot to different bases around the globe, as a military child naturally does. Along with my native tongue of French, I learned English and a little of Japanese. I learned martial arts, military history, how to disassemble a gun and fire it too. With my Japanese arts, I learned to control my emotions and block them. I never was at a school for long to make friends and even less to actually attend most public schools. Where I did stay long enough I excelled in everything but that was another reason I attracted fewer friends. And when my father became a general, public schools became private schools and I gave up entirely to having a normal life.

-LL-

It was the summer of 1992 when I was to turn 12 that I got my Hogwarts letter. My father and I were at a base in London, having been there as a permanent post for my father with his appointment to a top secret operation. We lived in a modest flat, though we could have afforded much better with my father's position, he wanted to avoid unwanted attention. It was a private building with us on the top floor, and a gate surrounding the property. It was a quick drive into downtown London and even closer to my fathers base. I had grown strong from my constant personal training, with my summer consisting of long runs, martial arts, and occasional marksmanship training. I was also tall for my age, at five feet, six inches, though considering who my father was, I expected to be six feet tall by next year. I had grown my hair out or really I had no choice. Whenever my father tried to cut my hair to military standards, it grew back overnight. I ended up tying it in a ponytail in the back. It was blonde, which I inherited from my mother.

July 29, 1992

It was my birthday and I was awake early, cooking breakfast for myself as I usually was at home alone majority of the time. Letting the eggs start to cook a little before moving onto the toast to make eggs in a basket, I heard a tapping on the window. I thought that strange as we were 8 floors up and no balcony near this particular window. I spotted a brown barn owl was outside perched on the ledge, with a letter in its beak. For most this would have startled them, but moments like this didn't phase me as weird things have happened to me my whole life, but even then I moved slowly to the window and tried to make out what it said on the outside of the letter; I saw my name on the envelope.

Lucas Lafayette
Kitchen, 8th Floor
Unmarked Location, US Military Post Quarters
London, England

I opened the window and the owl fluttered in and extending her leg to allow me access to the letter. I was fixated reading the letter that I didn't notice the owl move to my eggs and bacon, taking the latter. Sigmund, my snake familiar and only friend, curled up my arm.

§What isss it Lucasss?§ I turned the envelope over and saw a wax seal. Hogwarts School.

§It is a letter from a Hogwartsss Ssschool. I wonder what they want?§ I responded to Sigmund, in the snake tongue that only I understood. My father always found it strange when I spoke to him and stated it sounded only like hissing to him, thinking that it was just a childhood phase that I grew out of. Once I was able to prove that I could talk to Sigmund, he believed that maybe I could. In reality, I stopped speaking in front of others as people gave me the strangest looks. I kept a lot of secrets in my life to hide me "freakiness".

In all my years of moving, I have never heard of a private school by that name; believe me, I've been to my fair share of school, both public and private. I was curious but my father taught me to be cautious and to be calculating. I slowly opened the envelope, checking for powders or anything escaping that could kill me or poison me and I pulled out thick sheets of parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Lafayette,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I looked at the other page and it showed materials and books. A wand? And owl, cat or toad? What kind of joke is this? I've never been one to not take things at face value but someone was pulling my leg, but then… I felt something different about this. It was not merely a farce played on me. Messenger by owls? To a location only the highest officials in the military knew of my fathers' stature, this had to be a trap or something. Shaking my head in confusion, I shooed the owl out, closing the window behind her. I'll have to bring it up to my father.

§Where isss my breakfast, Lucasss?§ I turned to my breakfast I had prepared for us and saw it was already nibbled at by that darn owl.

§It isss right...damn that owl.§ I looked at my plate, which was half eaten by the barn owl.

§Time to make a new batch.§ I hissed to Sigmund.

My father instilled me to exercise and I totally immersed myself in it. Martial arts I was a black belt in aikido and iaido, as well as fairly efficient with a sword in fencing. I ran 10 miles a day, then exercised to stay alert. Usually, Sigmund went with me everywhere, but today was a bit rainy so he decided to stay home with the heat. Along with my run, I stopped at the local bookshop to see Mr. Jeffrey and get a glass of water and to hear the news of what was going on in town. Mr. Jeffrey was an odd fellow, but he allowed me to read all the books at his shop, as business was slow and I had a thirst for knowledge. He had graying hair, a smaller height than my own and a voice that had too many cigarettes in his lifetime to destroy. My father always stated it was better to gather intelligence and be alert, that way you could prepare for anything. I took that to heart and was fairly good at chess and also Shogi, Japanese chess.

"Good morning Mr. Jeffrey, what is new around town?" I asked.

"Oh, not'n new, just a bit ol' commotion with the bobbies, been runnin' around all mornin'. Some'in about a mad-man. It'd be alright, but best to head home boy." I remember reading about a man who had eluded the police all month, after murdering five people. It was strange because they were not able to determine death, just that they died with a bright green flash, sources say. All witnesses were confused about what really happened. I had kept my runs closer to home since then to avoid the area's he was last seen.

This being recent news of the man being seen in town, I would have to be careful in town.

"I will Mr. Jeffrey. See you tomorrow then?"

"Ey boy, now get! An' happy birthda' to ya' lad!" He chuckled. Mr. Jeffrey was a gruff of a man who always seemed in a foul mood but today he seemed uncharacteristically different. Fear did not make the man. I started my route back home, passing the run-down bar that had always seemed out of place in the modern looking town. I had asked my father about it once when we first arrived in town and he laughed "What bar, that is just a rundown old bar. Been out of business for years or so I'm told." I didn't believe him as men in odd robes would enter the bar right in front of us. I figured he didn't want me to enter it ever, or that I could add it to the list of weird things that I experienced. I was lost in thought when I quite literally ran into someone coming out of the bar. A girl, about my age, with silver blonde hair, a look of shock on her face. In my haste, I had pushed her too hard and I quickly responded by catching her and turning. I hit the pavement with a hard thud.

"I am so sorry for that" I stated as I stood up, helping her up as well. The silver-haired angel was dressed in a yellow summer dress with black flats on, her hair held down with a black ribbon.

She looked at me with such lost eyes and started "It's quite alright, I thought I saw Nar..." she halted as she looked me in the eyes. The daze she seemed to be in cleared up as she stared almost as if she was looking into my soul. We stood like that for a moment, I was lost in her beauty and her in whatever it was that she saw in me. It was almost as if it was… magic. My heart quickened and I thought for a brief moment I was in love. That's silly, I was only 12, but here she was, the most beautiful being I have ever seen. Our thoughts were brought back by a clearing of someone's throat, by the looks of it, the man who stood behind her, with blonde silver hair such as the girls. "Sorry daddy, we need to go home. Goodbye, my kind prince." She stated, looking away quickly. She seemed to be in a hurry as well. I was lost in thought as they walked away, and not until they left my sight did I leave my thoughts and continue my run. Today could not get any weirder... or better.

That evening at dinner my father made an unusual appearance as he usually worked late as well.

"What's with this letter son?" he ordered. Holding the letter, my eyes widen. I thought I had hidden it, as I wanted to investigate it longer.

I studied my father's face before responding "It's the weirdest thing father. Some owl brought this to me this morning. I thought it could be a trap." Best to tell him the truth than to lie, even though I did not know how he got it. His eyes widened as well but in an alert kind of way.

"How did they know where we were? This address is peculiar, it is too specific." I suddenly felt scared.

"Are we compromised?" I asked, trying to create different situations that would account for this as if this was a game of chess and I was looking 15 moves ahead.

"I don't know but I need to head to the office. This is a serious situation. But I wanted to celebrate your birthday with you quickly before I go. 12 years old, my how much you've grown" he said as he smiled upon looking at my face. "You have your mother's hair and eyes. She would have been proud of you." My father once told me that my eyes seem to change as my emotions did but he disregarded that to the lighting of the room at those times. I did notice the change and have worked to control the color, such as my hair.

"Happy Birthday Lucas. I got you something special. It doesn't work anymore" he said as he handed me a box. Inside was a German Luger P08, polished and the wood refinished. As I grew up, I learn about military history and guns were just as much a part of me as they were in history. My father was hesitant to let me have it but after training me and seeing how accurate I was, he let me learn more about them and carry a sidearm for protection.

"It's just like I thought" I stated excitedly, looking over the gun, pulling back the action, releasing the mag, snapping it back in and pulling the action once again. He watched in amusement as I went through the motions of checking it over to my satisfaction. It looked relatively clean and it looked to be in good working condition, why could it not work? "You said it does not work? Where did you get it?" I asked.

"Found it in an old storeroom, was collecting dust, the box was. Gun was clean as a whistle though," he stated, still looking puzzled. It had to have been in storage for over fifty years.

"Can I go to the base tomorrow to try it, see if I cannot fire it?", I asked, excited to head to the base again.

My father chuckled, "Sure but like I said, it doesn't work. I had Jordan clean it and try to fire it, but no luck." Lt. Jordan was a gunsmith at the base, and the best at his job. If Jordan couldn't get a gun to work, nobody could, but as I focused on it, felt the weight in my hand, I had a weird feeling about the gun, like it was connected to me like I've known it my whole life. I wanted to at least try myself to see if it was worth the effort.

July 30th, 1992

I started my day like any other. After my run, I stopped at home to grab the gun, placing it inside my leather shoulder holster and as I walked past the kitchen window on my way out, I was shocked to see the same owl outside again. I opened the window and grabbed the letter, closing it again and throwing the letter on the counter. §Come Sssigmund, letsss go.§ I hissed as Sigmund wrapped around my arm, under my trench coat.

At the base, my father and Lt. Jordan were right, the P08 would not fire no matter what I did, it wouldn't release the firing pin. "Sorry mate, like I told your da, it don't work like it should." Lt. Jordan said, feeling sorry that the gun was worthless. I was starting to get frustrated and felt a slight shudder when I pulled the trigger one last time but no luck. Nothing. "Ruddy gun!" I exclaimed. I slipped the gun back into my shoulder holster and left the base in a huff. As I started the long walk back to home, I entered the square downtown and I could feel a change in the atmosphere, almost like it was electricity. Something was wrong. There was a man in the center of the square, yelling to a crowd.

"We need to end the terror of anarchy. We have been oppressed too long!" He had amassed a large crowd of people who looked at him funny. Some people in the crowd started to yell back.

"Go back to the loony bin!"

"You are bloody mad you are!"

This did not help the situation, as the man did not seem right in the head. To say the man was unbalanced was an understatement.

"You all have been brainwashed! We need to completely wipe all who oppose freedom and pureblood democracy!" He pulled a piece of wood from his coat and people started to laugh.

"What are you going to do, use magic on us?" Stated a portly man. The madman pointed his wooden stick at the man and yelled "Avada Kedvara!" as he smiled. Bright green light erupted from the stick and hit the man squarely in the chest. He fell forward. At this people started to recognize him from the wanted posters, with chaos and screaming ensued, and the cops that had slowly started toward him quickly pulled out their guns, unsure how to handle this unknown power. That was when he opened fire on the police. I instinctively took action and yelled to people "Get down! Get down!" I pulled my gun from its holster and trained it on the mad-man.

"Please, calm down. No one has done anything wrong, these people have done nothing to you. You don't even know them! Please place the gun down and no one will need to get hurt" I pleaded. Unfortunately, he had already hit three police officers. They need medical attention and fast.

"Do you even know what the government has done? Hiding in secret, allowing for pureblood status to control our lives. You are almost as good as dead when the Death Eaters rise once again." The man spouted, almost spitting with rage. I had no idea what the man was talking about but he was clearly a threat that needed to be taken down before more lives were lost.

"I do not know what you are talking about sir but if..." I didn't get much more before the man opened his coat and I saw the bomb. My hair turned blue instantly, causing the man to laugh.

"You do not even know what you are yet stand in the face of danger? I am sorry that you must go down, we truly are pawns in their game of chess" he stated truthfully, as he pulled out a deadman switch and I instinctively pulled the trigger as he pulled the switch. I knew it would be for not and the worthless P08 would fail. It would not be for luck that the gun fired but I had such a want to keep these people safe. The bomb exploded as a white light left my gun, enveloping the man in a white, dome-like sphear of power. The explosion hit the wall of the light and shook the ground, sending me back. I hit my head and blacked out.

July 31st, 1992?

I awoke, seeing white around me, with a strange decor, almost older furniture surrounding me. I tried to piece together what happen. The decisions I made were expected in a time of fear, mistakes happen. But the gun? I knew the blasted thing was broken I just knew it I knew it! But it did work, did it not? I was surprised by a woman in an older looking era nurses outfit from World War II. The room started to take shape and I noticed more in the room than before. My gun was on the table next to me, my clothes folded next to my bed on a chair. Sigmund was still wrapped around my arm. No one ever seemed to notice him, even in public. "Ah, you are awake young sir. My name is Miss Tonks, I am your nurse dear. Here, drink this" She handed me a glass of a pale colored drink, which smelled like peppermint.

"Where am I?" I asked, confused. I took a drink of the peppermint smelling stuff and felt like literal steam was coming out of my ears.

"You are at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries dear." She pulled out a wooden stick just like the madman and pointed it at me, and I instinctively grabbed my P08 again and pointed it at her. She was alert and paused.

"Dear me, have you ever seen a wand before? I am merely making sure you are alright." I looked her up and down, determining she meant me no harm and lowered my gun. "Funny things those are, firelegs or whatever you muggles call them." I looked at her again, her use of common terms and slang confusing me.

"I am sorry, muggles?" I asked, not even attempting to comment on the firelegs mispronunciation of 'firearms'.

"Non magical folks. People who are not wizards or witches." I sat there, thinking again that I have heard those words in two days, not to mention all the weird things happening to me and through my life. My hair changed grey as if I aged one hundred years and Miss Tonks noticed. "Oh my, you're a metamorphmagus my dear, my Nymphadora is one too. Quite rare, they are." I tried to control my hair once again, centering my control and my hair returning to my usual blonde color. I have let myself lose control twice today. "Good control over it as well I see, took my daughter quite a while before she could do the same." I looked at her with a thoughtfulness, to see that motherly touch. I thought about my father and how worried he'd be.

"Can I see my father?" I asked, wanting for once some normalcy in my life.

"I am sorry dear, we cannot allow muggles into our hospital." A knock was heard on the door. Miss Tonks opened the door, and was surprised to see the person on the other side.

A man in a smart suit, albeit a few generations old, walked in. He had a very long beard and I could see him being a doctor of sorts, though more like a psychologist. "You look well Lucas. That was a nasty surprise." He said with a twinkle in his eye. I was wary of him immediately; they thought I was loony.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Lucas, my name is Albus Dumbledore." Instantly I remember the letters, realization dawning in my eyes.

"Why do you keep sending those letters? How do you get the owls to come to our house? What game are you playing?" I rounded question after question.

"I see you are still coming to terms. Lucas, you are a wizard, a very powerful one at that. That shield charm was quite impressive, especially since you used a muggle gun to focus it. Strange weapon though, it seemed to have some spells attached to it. Where did you ever find a gun like that?" He asked as he sat down in a chair next to the bed.

"My father. It felt strange like it was waiting for me to pick it up, to hold it."

"Yes, very much like a wand, as a wand chooses its' owner. Hogwarts will help you learn to control your magic better. There are students who are like you, who have never known about magic and then receive their letter." With that, Dumbledore handed me another letter.

Lucas Lafayette
Room 405B

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
London, England

"Hogwarts… so where do I get these items?" I asked. Dumbledore's twinkle return.