A Song of Love and Power
By: The Apprentice Author
Recommended fic reads: Protection: The Sword and the Shield by Bishop2420, Harry Potter and the Lightning Lord and Saviour of Magic by Colt01, Hadrian Black: The Other Twin by Souen11, hogwarts black prince by chernabog 90, The Last of the Peverells by Arcturus Peverell, Aggressive Love by Dio Black, Travel Secrets by E4mj, A Second Chance at Life by Miranda Flairgold, plus many minor ideas from loads more and my own creations included.
Book One: The Early Years
Chapter 1: Et Invictus Vires Magicae
November 1st, 1979
Lily
She could feel him inside of her, teeming with new life and with the potential for power many would kill for. She knew it was physically (and almost magically) impossible to tell that she was pregnant this early as the contraceptive potions had only worn off yesterday.
'It might have to do with James' rather...enthusiastic response to knowing he could finally knock me up proper that I have such acute awareness over my womb,' thought Lily with a giggle at the pleasant soreness at the memory of her husband's frantic rutting the night before.
She could feel the protective magic associated with a male child growing and cementing in her core. She could feel the combined magic of her and James melding and combining into a new, unique magical signature. A couple of minutes later it finalized and she felt a wave of magical energy wash over her and the man asleep beside her.
But...there was a second wave? A wave of...nausea?
Lily's eyes widened and she kicked her way out of the sheets in a desperate bid to get to the loo. 'Just in time,' was the only thought that went through her mind before she emptied her guts of last night's dinner.
She felt her husband as he came up behind her and moved her hair out of the way, rubbed circles on her back, and murmured reassuring nothings into her ear.
When she finally emptied her stomach and dry heaved a couple of times she turned around with a wide smile, despite her churning stomach, and happily cried, "I'm pregnant!"
-ASLP: EY-
December 31st, 1979
After being pumped full of Black and Potter family magic daily since she became pregnant, courtesy of Sirius and James through their noble house rings, Lily didn't need to eat anymore. Sure, the magic was for her son, but it still had to travel through her body. Even if they held the stones of their rings directly against her stomach, which they did, it was still her body that it had to go through, and her body naturally absorbed some of the excess magic being pumped into her. Since she wasn't using too much excess magic, it was taboo for pregnant witches to exert their body or magic more than was necessary, the extra magic just filled up her need to eat. At this point, she could probably go a couple of weeks without even thinking about eating.
But none of that was important. What was important was the ritual she was preparing for her unborn son. Lily, a spell creation genius, was determined. And when she decided to do something, nothing could stop her. This time her determination was focussed on increasing the survival rate of her unborn son along with some… other things for him. No child of hers would be unsuccessful, and her first-born would be the most successful, powerful, and influential wizard to ever live. And while his genes from both his parents inclined him to be highly motivated towards success, inclination and chance weren't enough in Lily's eyes.
Success, the accomplishment/attainment of an aim or purpose. While being the heir Potter plus the heir presumptive of his godfather, Sirius, the heir Black, entitled him to waaaaay too much monetary and political power, she wanted more.
Sowilo: the rune of the sun, life, fertility, success, and everything good. That would be the rune she based her ritual around. Through this rune for success, she could give him power, more power than anyone but her blood should have. Now, in the meantime, it was time to start crunching some numbers. A ritual of this potential would need a lot of arithmancy work, especially because she would be combining both ancient and modern magicks.
After all, why she may have been sorted into Gryffindor while in school, her own pedigree had always aimed high. It's just what the house of ambition did.
And she would always achieve her ambition.
-ASLP: EY-
July 31st, 1980
Today was it, the day of his birth. The day the world would change for the best. Of course, there would always be those who opposed change. Whether out of greed, jealousy, or just having fossilized to much in their old age, it didn't matter, nothing could or would stop her child. While that little prophecy was a bit of a hindrance, all it did was prove her right about her son's importance. So she held her head high and pushed forward. When her water broke at 5 PM sharp, she knew it was all going according to schedule and the tears of joy that spilled from her eyes when she told her husband the exciting news weren't the first spilled that night. Of course everyone important knew that it was the day to be. Too bad Alice Longbottom went into labor just an hour later. Later on, they would joke that Lily's son decided to pull his godbrother with him. A trend that seemed to continue through the rest of their lives.
Seven raw hours of labor later, the power-filled first cries of Hadrian James Orion Potter split the air of the maternity ward as the last seconds of July ticked away. Born just as the seventh month dies, just as the prophecies stated. What was more remarkable than the new life born into this world was the wave of magic that accompanied him. Every magically sentient creature on the planet felt it. It wasn't the raw power that they all felt, it was the potential for it.
In a remote prison in the Austrian Alps, an old Sorcerer raised his head from where it had lain resting. The remainder of his loyal high command had all done the same from where they had been on the far corners of the globe. Sensing this new power, this new threat.
In an enormous castle in northern Scotland, the Grand Sorcerer himself was awakened by the collective cries of acknowledgment that came from the forest located right off of the castle grounds. He felt it right after, the limitless potential for magic that not even he possessed.
In the capital city of the Goblins located under London, every goblin man, woman, and child raised their heads to the roof located high above them. The king himself, Ragnok the first, raised his cup in toast to the newborn babe.
The dark lord of Avalon, Lord Voldemort, knew the significance of this date. And he raised his head in salute to a worthy adversary.
The immortal alchemist Nicolas Flamel and his wife Perenelle met eyes from where they sat lounging in their den and smiled.
In the dwarven mountains, hammers rang, feet were stamped, and songs were sung.
In the infinite forest of Ellesméra, the elves rejoiced. It was finally time for the thirteenth fey clan to rejoin their ranks. The high elves smiled benevolently over their rejoicing children, they too happy at the thing they all knew.
The savior of magic had been born, and all would bow before his power.
-ASLP: EY-
October 31st, 1981
Running up the 17 steps that separated the ground floor from the top with her fifteen-month-old child in arms should not have been enough time to reflect over one's twenty-one years of life with extreme detail and scrutiny, even with category five sorcerer level occlumency, but somehow Lily Potter managed as her husband held off the Dark Lord to buy her precious second with their son. Looking back, she saw nothing but happiness. Sure, there were rough patches here and there, but overall she only saw happiness. She was content. It was time to move on and pass the torch to the next generation. She was going to die, just as her friend Pandora prophecized. But that was okay, because she had her Harry.
"Such a good father you have son," she muttered while locking and enforcing the door and wall with unspeakable level magicks. "Giving dear old mom her last seconds with her only child. Too bad, your baby sister would have loved life. But, alas, she'll die with me."
While talking to her son she finished the final part of the ritual she had spent years perfecting. The first part had been done for months. Centered around Harry's crib were runes carved into the ancient wood of Ignotus' Retreat, the Peverell Family property they were staying at in Godric's Hallow. Each rune was filled with her and James' blood and connected to each other in a flowing spiral ending with the giant Sowilo rune carved on the bottom of Harry's crib.
Whilst the cottage shook under the might of the battle between the stag and the snake Lily started chanting in Latin. To any other, her sing-song lilting voice would have made it sound like a song. A song of love and power.
Minutes passed and Harry stayed still and silent in his crib, somehow understanding the significance of his mother not being interrupted. Seven minutes of chanting later it all ended with one final line:
Voco super Materna virtus mea, nunc ultimum carmen: sed qui filii mei est sicut inceperat.
With her final definitive line, she pulled all the protective magic into her body, and pushed it out through her wand and into her son by tracing the rune Sowilo on his forehead, rights over his right eye.
With a flash, all the runes, which had been emitting a warm red glow, flashed gold and were absorbed into Harry stabilizing and leaving no evidence of what his mother just did except for one smoking rune on the underside of his crib. To mask the residual power, Lily threw up some wards on and around Harry's crib. All the while she cried, cried because she wouldn't get to see her son grow up, but she also cried because of the lack of magic she felt downstairs.
James was dead.
Moments later, the door creaked open and Voldemort walked through.
-ASLP: EY-
Voldemort
The Dark Lord Voldemort was a cunning man. Sure, he could barely be considered a human being (even when he still looked like one) but his DNA would have read human all the same. But while he was above most humans for being both a wizard and a category five sorcerer, he was still a human. And humans make mistakes. And Voldemort's would lead to his downfall.
Mistake number one: ignoring the signs of a trap. They were all there. Lack of surprise, spells that were closer to hindrances then actual attacks, and the almost resigned look in James Potter's face. That combined with the almost rehearsed response of the two parents of his target should have sent off warning bells in his head. It didn't.
Mistake number two: assuming. Any successful leader/tactician knows that the first lesson learned is to never assume. Voldemort assumed that just because he was more powerful than most other people on the planet he should be fine to attack the Potters without preparation. He assumed that since they were hiding in a cottage they wouldn't be protected by the unmatchable Potter Wards. (Lucky him they were at their lowest power setting letting him shatter them with ease.)
And mistake number three: underestimating Lily Potter. He ignored the signs of her trap in his arrogance. Ignoring the weird flare of soul magic that almost felt like the shattering technique used in his Horcruxes, he moved on. He assumed that just because she was a young no-name muggle-born and he the blood of Slytherin he would have the upper hand. He underestimated a force more powerful and ancient than even magic. A force that he knew not: love. A mother's love.
And so as he shattered the wards around the crib of his target with a hiss and flutter of his fingers he made the greatest mistake a Slytherin can make: he acted like a Gryffindor.
With a small speech about his greatness and what-not, he incanted "Avada Kedavra" and watched as the killing curse hit the Potter heir… AND BOUNCED BACK?! The dark lord's last thoughts were something along the lines of, 'Oh shit.'
-ASLP: EY-
Poor Voldemort didn't stand a chance. Lily Potter had turned the tables with one act. She had shattered her soul and the soul of her husband in an effort to protect her child. Their legacy to protect, their love to defend, power and love, staff and wand, shield and sword.
With Voldemort unwittingly completing the ritual the residual remains of the souls of his parents plus a shard of the dark lord's pooled into him. The rune on his forehead became permanently visible and his power skyrocketed. If his mother's protection stabilized in time the soul shard of Voldemort might have been destroyed that very night. As it is, the ritual's purpose was to square the power of whatever curse Voldemort cast at Harry. Doing that, finishing itself, and protecting Harry from the explosion of power that was accompanied by Voldemort's body exploding exhausted it. Getting its power bound an hour later by the actions of its charges worried grandparents didn't help in that matter. In fact, the only thing it could do to the enemy soul shard was put it into hibernation by absorbing its power and isolating it in a corner of Harry's mind. After all that, it went to sleep for a week. Seven years later when it was unbound, it had mutated in a way that surpassed the dreams of both Lily and James.
Because that's what it was. Love and power. It was the song of the firebird and the stag. And their son was magic's chosen. And magic was unconquerable.