Author's Note: I was expecting a specified place to put a disclaimer before Chapter One, but I was unfortunately mistaken. So here it goes:
Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter, as unfortunate as that is. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. I do not own any of the characters, names of fictional locations, or magical objects employed by the characters.
Chapter 2
A week after the eldest was born, he sat quietly in the room. This was a different visit, a time for decisions. A book sat in front of him, showing a boy with a camera. The boy had admired him, and he died for it. She came in and sat across from him, wincing as she looked at the picture of the blonde photographer. "I will bring him here, when he is old enough," the man whispered softly, "Because the other children will know, and he deserves to find out from his father." She nodded her agreement and stood to leave, but as her hand brushed his shoulder as she departed. "He will be proud to have you as his father," she whispered to him. The tears which burned his face were hidden behind his hands.
Our last stop of the day was to Flourish and Blotts, to but textbooks for the boys. I was promised an early bedtime after asking Mum, "why the bloody 'ell" anyone would want a book called Standard Book of Spells, but I was secretly excited to visit the vast bookstore and explore its contents.
As soon as we entered the store, I deeply regretted my comments toward books. No matter how long we had been shopping, I knew I could spend hours here.
James instantly set off to find books by himself, while Albus went out with Mum and Dad. After Teddy saw some friends he wanted to chat with, I was left alone. Walking slowly, I ran my hand along the spines of hundreds of books. After reading the backs of a child's book I had never seen, (how had I missed out on the story of the Deathly Hallows as a child?) I wandered over to a small, crowded table with a sign that read "The Second War." I was curious as to what this war was, but I felt as though I shouldn't be looking at it. Hiding behind another shelf as I waited for the people to clear, I caught the names of a few book titles.
The first I saw was by an author named Rita Skeeter. With a jolt in my stomach, I read the title, "The Man with the Lightning Scar." A picture of my dad was looking back at me from the cover! My heart beating fast, more titles jumped out at me. "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived" and "A History of Harry Potter." As the last few people cleared away, the book at the front of the table swam into my confused vision. "Harry Potter: A Life of Struggles."
My heart was now jumping at an irregular pace. Had I unlocked Dad's room without knowing it? Could the answer to all my questions be right before me? What were Dad's "struggles" that hurt him so much? And a new question, which I had never given thought to before: Where did Daddy's scar come from? I grabbed "A Life of Struggles" and settled into a nearby corner. I knew my time was running out, and I could not let my parents know I had seen the table. Flipping through the pages at random, words jumped out at me. "Voldemort" appeared quite often, as did the name "Dumbledore." It seemed that Dumbledore, an old headmaster at Hogwarts, had been rather close to my Father. Suddenly, a sentence jumped out at me. I reread the sentence several times, to make sure I understood it correctly. "Severus Snape, who had been Potions Master and head of Slytherin at the time, murdered Albus Dumbledore on top of the Astronomy Tower during Harry's 6th and final year at Hogwarts," I whispered to myself. My brother…my brother was named for this man, Dumbledore, and the man who killed him!
I blinked several times and shut the book. Surely I did not understand properly. Dad must know something that the author didn't know. I must have misunderstood.
I opened the book again to an earlier passage. This paragraph troubled me as well, and I was forced to reread once again, whispering aloud in the hope that its meaning would murmur back, clearing my confusion. "We all know how it began. On Halloween night, 1981, Lord Voldemort set out to kill Lily and James Potter, at the height of his power." My stomach flipped at my brother's and my names, but it only got stranger. "After killing both of Harry's parents with the killing curse, he moved onto the baby Harry. (Let it be known that the details of Voldemort's motives and the following actions were rumored to be known only by Dumbledore and Mr. Potter himself, neither available for comment.) Somehow, as he attempted to kill Harry, his essence shattered. He was not seen for many years." I desperately wanted to keep reading, but I heard Dad calling for me. Quickly replacing the book on the shelf, I sought to distance myself from it before my parents found me. Despite this, I saw a shadow cross his face as he saw the table. "Lily, come," he said quietly. I followed him quickly and did not look back.
Author's Note once again: I know these first two chapters have been rather short, but I promise they will be longer as the story progresses. In my defense, they look much longer on notebook paper with large handwriting.