New Life: Part One
A shaft of light pierced the oppressive gloom of the small chamber, illuminating the lone ten year old occupant of the four poster bed. The child calmly lying on the blue comforter had long, sleek black hair falling just past his shoulders and was often seen tied back by a black thong. He had a thin, graceful face with high cheekbones, a slender nose, and slightly wide set eyes giving him an exotic, almost elfish look. To top this he had a wiry build and was somewhat on the short side for his age. The only thing marring this otherwise elfish look was a black clothe patch, covering his right eye.
'Master Harry,' stammered Bob, one of the family house elves. 'Your mother says you need to awaken.'
A single, luminescent blue eye snapped open.
'Tell my mother I will be down in half an hour for breakfast,' he rapped out in an eerie monotone.
'Right away, Master,' and with a small snap Bob was gone.
Harry slowly started his morning routine, walking into the private bath and turning the tap to a warm temperature on the shower head. While in the shower he managed to wash his face and hair without ever removing, or even getting his eye patch wet, demonstrating years of experience in the matter. Harry made quick work of brushing his teeth and drying off. Walking over to his wardrobe he picked out slim black pants, a white French button up shirt with silver cufflinks, buttons, and a thin silver chain at the throat. Proceeding to tie his hair back with his standard leather thong, he made his way down the west wing of the house to the main stairway. Turning into a side door off the foyer lead to the small kitchenette where the family ate personal meals.
The sight that greeted Harry was one of a seemingly normal family. Lily was cooking on the stove, never getting over her muggle-born upbringing, looking as though the years after Hogwarts hadn't affected her at all. James was sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet. Though not immediately noticeable, his years as an Auror gave a smattering of grey to his hair. Finally, Will Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, came striding in with the arrogance and assurance that came from years of bathing in the spotlight of the wizarding worlds affection. He was slightly tall for his age, with a sturdy, almost chubby build. His hair had a short sports cut, adding to his already rugged look. His most prominent feature was the pentagram shaped burn scar over his left temple, 'a sign of protection,' claimed the press.
'Harry, next time we say come down, you will come down immediately. Is that understood?' Was Harry's stern greeting from his father, who never quite knew how to act towards his second son.
'Yes father,' came the stiff reply.
The rest of the family, excluding Harry, talked animatedly about when Will's Hogwarts letter would arrive and the resulting trip to Diagon Alley. As usual, the conversation quickly turned to Quality Quidditch Supplies and the new broom they had just released, the Nimbus 2000. Harry snorted quietly in contempt. "Trust them to turn to such a brutal sport," he thought.
Just then a barn owl started tapping on the window pane.
'I'll get it,' said Will, as he darted for the window latch. He hastily took the top letter from the owl, flinging the others to the floor in his excitement. Tearing through the envelope Will's eyes darted across the parchment before quickly falling in sadness.
'What's wrong, honey?' queried a concerned Lily.
'I-It's nothing,' stuttered Will.
A concerned James snatched the letter from his sons hands and was about to start frantically reading when he saw the grin flickering across his sons face.
'You scamp!' yelled James, while tackling Will to the ground as he started viscously tickling his son while Lily laughed at their antics.
During this whole episode Harry had purposefully walked over to the small stack of letters on the floor. Picking them up he shuffled through them, looking at the senders; Beuxbatons, Durmstrang, Salem Institute, Eagle Rock Academy, the Vatican Order of Witchcraft, Hogwarts, and several others from all around the world. Harry felt numb at the sheer number of the school acceptance letters. "Why do they all want me?" he pondered.
'What do you have there, pup?' asked Remus Lupin, just as he entered the Potter mansion from the kitchen door.
'Oh, some acceptance letters from a few schools. I don't know why there are so many,' Harry responded with a slight tone of affection.
Remus Lupin, former Marauder and werewolf, was the only one who truly knew Harry. While Harry usually received a small amount of money or other oddities for the holidays (when they remembered), Remus, despite his rather short income, had always known exactly what Harry wanted or needed. The two of them would often be seen walking through the woods on the Potter estates (sometimes leaving the grounds for more rural areas). In short, he was Harry's most prominent father figure.
He was also the only one who knew his secret.
'Beuxbatons, Rock Eagle… hell, this ones written in Cambodian. So which are you planning to attend?'
'What's the question?' said James from his position on the floor. 'Of course he's going to Hogwarts.'
'I don't know… Some of these schools are said to be quite good,' Harry observed. 'Rock Eagle Academy has a alchemy professor who studied under Nicholas Flamel, Salem has classes in natural magic, and the Vatican teaches some of the best Defence against the Dark Arts as well as ritual magic.' Harry could not help but feel a slight sense of excitment at the prospect of escaping his brothers' spotlight.
'No,' James stated flatly. 'You will be going to Hogwarts ands that's final.'
'Now James, don't you think you're being a little inflexible?' asked Remus.
'Don't you "now James" me, Remus. I am Harry's father, and as such you have no say in how he is raised, despite what you may think,' James said coldly.
'What do you mean 'Harry's father'? Since when have you ever been a father to him? When was the last time you had a civil conversation with him? Did you ever teach him to ride a broom? What does he like to do in his spare time? Does he like classical, The Weird Sisters, or muggle music? When was the last time you were truly a father to him, James?' said a livid werewolf as his anger winded down.
'Who are you to question me in my own house?' bellowed James. 'What right do you have to question my actions? You, standing there in tattered robes, who can't have any children of his own. A werewolf! Less than human, the bane of the wizarding world. Who are you to question my actions? Take the dark freak, his eye should have warned us long ago he was nothing but trouble with his queer notions of equality,' spitting out the last part.
Remus stood there in shock before realisation of what James had said came crashing over him like a breaking wave. In the next instant a deathly calm washed over him, and his eyes flashed amber.
'So, that is it. You are willing to throw years of friendship down the drain… and for what? This false sense of importance bestowed upon you by Will's adoring public? You are truly willing to throw away a son who has done not but think beyond the racial barriers of a fearful populace. Very well, Harry, gather your things. We are leaving. And James, if you contact me for any other reason than a full apology, I will report some of your dealings, and interesting abilities, to the Ministry, Prongs,' Remus finished with that same dead voice.
By then Harry had gathered his few personal effects into his trunk and was quietly standing at Remus's side, silently awaiting their departure.
'Come pup, let's leave these people.'
With this last statement, Harry walked out of his old life and into the sunrise.
AN/ Sorry for the wait. I would have updated sooner but I kept trying to write a Volde attack but it never sounded quite right. Also my younger sister wouldn't stop hovering over my shoulder. I promise a new chapter as soon as I get it beta read.