Heir of Hogwarts

By

Sannikex

A/N: Hello! There is some French in this chapter and I haven't had time to get someone to check it so it might be wrong but the things it's SUPPOSED to mean is at the bottom. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love it :D

"James Harold! Jane Elizabeth!" A woman in her mid sixties stood in the huge Entrance Hall of Potter Manor, her expensive coat dripping and leaving puddles on the black and white checked floor, calling after running steps, her voice betraying her French extraction. Another woman, much younger with raven hair, gracefully entered the hall. Lady Elizabeth Potter.

"Ah, bonjour Ma..." Her voice trailed off as she saw the other woman's wet appearance. "Jane, James! Come back here immediately and apologize to Grandmeré!" The younger Lady Potter called after her children. She didn't look surprised, more tired.

"No!" A girl's voice answered. "We won't come back 'cause we don't want to hear about Mr. Podmore's pain in the stomach..." A boy's voice cut in,

"Or Mr. Bell's horrible tie at the garden party..."

"Or Mrs. Malfoy's snobby manners!" Elizabeth had to smile at her children but the older Lady Potter was not amused at all. She was a very stern lady and she refused to speak English, a language she found worthless. She understood it fully but never spoke it. She preferred French.

"Ce n'est pas bon comportement! Revenez ici immédiatement!" The Potter twins who spoke French as well as English knew that when their grandmother said 'it's not good behavior' it meant trouble. Whispers could be heard before the twins returned to the Entrance Hall, their black and blonde heads bent.

"Nous sommes désolés, Grandmeré," they said in unison. The woman nodded and carelessly dumped her coat on the tiny house-elf by her feet. Then she walked off towards the spring parlor. The twins made a face, it was teatime. Elizabeth just shook her head at her grimacing children before returning to the guest list of her summer ball.

Harold Potter leaned back in his chair, stretching. Finally the paper work was finished! Now he would be able to spend the weekend with his family. Elizabeth, Jane and James. His mother was out of the country (thank Merlin!) and he could do as he pleased without her breathing down his neck.

Contently his eyes wandered over the neat stacks of parchment covering his chestnut desk. Generations of Potter men had sat by this aged piece of furniture, working, dreaming or simply sitting. One day James would sit here and after him his son... It would go on forever. He liked the thought of forever. That something was strong enough to last forever.

"Harold!" The voice of his wife penetrated through the door. Swiftly he rose to join his wife in the next room, his wife's private parlor. It was exactly as Elizabeth wanted it and her very own place, a place to be alone for a minute.

As he entered he immediately understood that something was wrong. Elizabeth was standing by the window, her face pale, pointing at something outside. He looked over her shoulder and firstly he couldn't see anything unusual. James was chasing Jane on the lakeshore. He almost got her when she suddenly disappeared only to appear again a few yards away.

He felt his own face lose all colour. His knees gave out and he sank down on the chair placed by the window by Elizabeth so she could watch the twins.

"No... Not Jane, not my daughter…" His wife's slender hand was placed on his shoulder.

"You'll have to talk to her, Harold. And with James." This was something she was outside of. This was the Potter family's cross to bear, alone. With sad eyes she watched her husband walk out with heavy steps. She knew where he was going. She knew him so well by now. He was going to sit in his study by his desk staring at the Potter crest, silently raging against the injustices that followed his heritage. He wasn't the bravest man, her husband, but he did what he was expected to.

Some called him meek but she would like to see anyone who wouldn't be with that mother. She smiled as wave of fondness washed over her. Still in love after so many years…Fifteen it would be in two weeks. They had as many others met at Hogwarts, the shy Hufflepuff boy who turned out to be a Potter Lord, which meant he was one of the most powerful men in the wizard world. And she, a young and vivacious Ravenclaw, daughter of the influential department head of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic, had fallen in love at the age of fifteen and hadn't left each other's side since.

Elizabeth sat down in the chair her husband had just abandoned and allowed herself the luxury of letting her shoulders slump.

"Oh, Jane sweetheart…"

"Ms. Jane and master James are here now, Master."

"Thank you, Bobby. Will you see them in."

"Of course master. Immediately, sir."

Harold turned towards the door as his children entered. Jane entered first with red cheeks, mud stains on her robes and her short blonde hair windblown. His chest contracted painfully. Why his daughter, of all children born in the family? His daughter who he had carried through all the children diseases, comforted after nightmares and scolded for committed pranks.

After her came her twin. James had pretty much the same shabby look as his sister. His usually unruly jet-black mop of hair (that one day would make his grandmother crazy) was even more tousled and wild than usual. His robes were torn at the knee and a big smile was playing at his lips as he chatted away with Jane. They stopped and James greeted his father.

"Hi, Dad. Bobby said that you wanted to speak with us?"

"Yes I do. Have a seat. James, what have you done to your robes?"

"Played. We can buy new ones." He clambered up the sofa and his sister took a seat beside him.

"True," Harold had to confess with a smile. But the reason for their wealth was sitting in the sofa munching at a pumpkin pastry, her short legs sticking straight out in front her as they weren't long enough to even remotely reach the floor.

"I brought you because I wanted to tell you a story...A true one about our family."

"It's not bed-time, is it?" Jane looked up with pleading eyes.

"No, it's not bed-time I just wanted to tell you..."

"All right then." His daughter contently returned her attention to the pumpkin pastry, as James seemed to be looking for a distraction in the room to save him from family history. The blue lounge didn't offer much help but a painting of a ship in storm lit his eyes up.

It was lucky for Harold that he knew just how to get their attention.

"Well, maybe I should wait, you could be to small for this..." The blonde and dark head turned towards him and almost in unison they reassured him that they were certainly not too small for any histories. Having their full focus he started again.

"You know the four founders of Hogwarts, yes? They were very special magicians with very strong powers. They wanted something most often called magic children, or by some, wand spawns. These children are not made as normal ones and", James interrupted,

"How are normal children made?"

"Er...That's not the point, James and don't interrupt. Well, there has to be a wizard and a witch, and very powerful ones at that, to accomplish the ancient rites creating a child take. The founders who didn't want children with each other, just heirs to inherit their powers and abilities managed to make two heirs, Raven Griffin and Serpent Badger. The heirs grew up and the founders had real children and everything went as planned until the sixteenth birthday of Raven and Serpent. They fell in love and against their 'parents' wishes they married in secret. They got a daughter named Lyvelynn Hogwarts. It wasn't until she grew older the founders realized that when Raven and Serpent's magical powers had mixed it created a new sort of magic, an almost uncontrollable one. That made Lyvelynn dangerous to her surroundings and she was locked up in a tower..."

"Like a fairy tale princess!" Jane exclaimed with huge eyes.

"Yes," he nodded and wondered why on earth his daughter looked delighted. "Then as a knight in shining armor one of your ancestors came along, Arthur Potter. He was a thief and a very greedy one, too. He didn't only want money but also honor and power. He kidnapped Lyvelynn so that he could marry her and let his bloodline get the powers of his wife. The founders were secretly quite happy with the arrangement since now they weren't responsible for Lyvelynn any longer so they made a bargain with our ancestor. His descendants would forevermore be rich, powerful and mighty if he married Lyvelynn. In return they wanted to use his family as a weapon of theirs and every time the world needed a hero an heir would be born. Tempted by the prospect of having great heroes with his name he agreed to the only hatch. His family had to marry purebloods. If a single one had a child of mixed blood the magic was broken. Still today we are bound by this oath and no Potter has ever married someone with mixed or magicless blood." He sighed. He cast a glance around the dark blue decorated room with its many windows. A careful son was shining, silently playing on the polished floor. His children's eyes were glued at him as they awaited the end. Now he came to the hard part.

"As I said, everytime a weapon was needed an heir would be born. It seems like one is going to be needed, there is an heir in our family." The twins were leaning forward so much they almost lost balance.

"Who is it?" James asked breathlessly and Harold braced himself.

"Jane, it's you."

"Me?" She squealed and clapped her hands. "But Jamie, what is he?"

The look on his son's face pained him almost as bad as his daughter's situation. When he himself had been a child he had wanted to be an heir more than anything but as he grew up he learned that being one was not some dance on roses. No, the roses had very sharp thorns...

"He's your brother." That sounded short in comparison to Jane's title, Heir of Hogwarts, aspirant of the Merlin Order first grade, servant of the Founders, Mistress over powers unknown and Lady of the Potters, may honor follow her.

Mistress over Powers unknown...The heirs were born for a cause, which basically meant that Jane would be needed for the survival of the wizardry world. A freezing hand of fear gripped his heart; most heirs didn't live to tell the tale of their twentieth birthday. His daughter would face dangers beyond his imagination and to his shame he felt that he didn't want to know exactly what.

"Being the heir, Jane is mostly a curse but also a blessing."

His daughter's eyes grew huge beneath the blonde fringe in her short boyish-cut hair.

To his honour James put away his jealousy when he saw his sister's obvious fear.

"I'm with you, Janie." The two small, dirty children's hands clasped and Harold closed his eyes. His children most often seemed to be one person. They looked at each other as a part of themselves instead of a sibling. They loved effortlessly and endlessly in a way that Harold knew was dangerous. Without the other they would grow mad. And now a difference to big to overlook coldly pointed out that they were not the same person.

"Geez, what a tale. And I thought mine about my grand-grand father fighting a load of German tourist who walked on his land was cool. Your family is wicked!" Ron exclaimed, still looking around in mild disbelief over his surroundings.

Hermione looked like she was thinking sharply, her brown eyes fastened on the twins on the sofa.

Harry just nodded. He had gotten yet another prospect of his father. As a four year old. He had been caring and cheerful.

"Professor Trotter?" He said hesitantly looking around wearily.

"Yes?" The cool and cultivated voice that was hard to associate with the little girl on the blue couch, answered.

"My father he…was he like this always?" Was it possible that Snape's memory was colored after how he remembered James? A careful light of hope lit up inside him.

"Considerate and happy? No. You'll see as the story goes on but he became a good-for-nothing little prig. He was everyone's darling and got everything too easy. He was rich, he was funny, popular and very talented at a lot of things." Her serious voice seemed to start smiling as she continued. "But Lily wouldn't stand for it and neither would I so he had to capitulate in the end. Your father was a good man, Harry. He just didn't get so much time to prove it." Harry sighed and let his gaze wander from his father to the blonde man with sad, dark eyes who had to be his grandfather.

"Is that my grandfather?" If this actually was his family, Sarah, or Jane, was the only link to actually get to know where he came from, who he was. A person without a family lost a part of their personality.

"Yes, Harold Potter, Merlin bless his soul. He died before you were born and so did your grandmother, Elizabeth Potter, former Robillard. You know you can walk down the corridor and take right and you'll get to your rooms. It's going to take a while preparing the next memory."

"Our rooms?" Ron looked up the ceiling as if he was going to see the DADA professor looking down on him.

"Yes. You're going to be here quite some time. It's going to be the exact moment you left when you come back but time for us in the past passes differently than the present one. I guess you could have the Master bedroom, Harry, after all it's yours since I'm said to be dead, but you'd rather have something closer to Ron and Hermione, right?" Harry just nodded. This was getting weirder by the minute but he found himself liking the thought of seeing more of his father.

"Where did Potter Manor stand?" Hermione asked curiously as she opened her mouth for the first time.

"Did? It still stands and will stand until the last Potter dies, of course!"

"Are you saying that Harry owns a Manor?" Silence stretched out as no answer came. Then dangerously low Jane said,

"You mean that no one has told Harry that he is the only living heir to Potter Manor and the Potter fortune?" Harry thought that the conversation was going on too much over his head and sounded more annoyed than he meant to.

"I don't own any manor and I have inherited money from my parents, yes."

"What name is your account in?" Getting a bit irritated over the talk about his money as Ron stood beside him he snapped.

"Mine." Something that sounded like a groan resounded in the hallway they were now standing in. For some reason the surroundings seemed to change as if they couldn't really decide if to stay a parlor or become a hallway.

"Yours. Harry that is your vault with the sum you would receive every birthday from your parents' accounts. And as you know you had time to experience one birthday with your parents. The money in James vault, in Lily's vault, in my vault, in the Potter vault is yours! Merde! I got to talk to the goblins. And, I forgot, this estate is yours too, including the house-elves and servants."

"Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed shaking his head sending violent red strands in his intently blue eyes.

"Mildly expressed, yes." Jane Potter's voice sounded vaguely amused.

"Oh no..." Draco looked down on the redhead who seemed to be devastated, her brown eyes fastened on the children on the couch.

"What, Weasley? Not a good enough fairy tale ending for you?"

"Shut it, Malfoy! Can't you see how that girl already now hates being the heir? It separates her from James..." Ginny still had her head turned so she didn't see the confused look the blonde gave her.

"No, I don't. What I see is that we suddenly jumped from the hallway and ended up in this parlor."
"I thought you would like to see something happen." The voice of Jane Potter said, echoing a bit oddly.

"Well, I'd rather something I didn't know, Lady Potter." He drawled and Ginny's eyes shot to him as he addressed the voice with...respect? Draco Malfoy respected nothing and no one. He wasn't completely on any side in the war so he paid no respect to anyone.

"Really? Well, give it some time, young Malfoy, you are far too fast to judge." Instead of coming with some witty comeback the Slytherin just set his jaw.

Confused Ginny watched him as the scenery changed once again. She found herself in a bedroom four times bigger than her own with deep green walls and decorated in renaissance style.

"Your room is to the right, Ms. Weasley." In some weird way Ginny felt that Jane was not present any longer.

"What is all this with being polite and respectful all of sudden, Malfoy? You don't usually do anything remotely as normal." He tugged impatiently at his tie, being very uncharacteristic, both showing signs of uneasiness and looking less than immaculate. Not that he didn't look good with his tie unknotted, far from, but he always looked as if he just had dressed. No, he looked, damn him for making her think about it, incredibly sexy.

"It's not your business." He said in a clipped tone before gaining his composure again and sauntering over to an armchair in front of the hearth, lazily sending and Incendio on the heap of pinewood. Surely, for the scent... Ginny thought a bit disconnectedly.

"It is my business, Malfoy. Your business have been mine ever since you brought me into this masquerade." She plopped down in the other armchair.

Three silent hours later of watching his face illuminated by the warm firelight she rose and went into her room.

"This is not the end of discussion, Malfoy."

A/N: "Ah, bonjour Ma..." Elizabeth is about to say, Good morning Madame

"Ce n'est pas bon comportement! Revenez ici immédiatement!" That's not good behaviour! Come back here immediately!

So please excuse the horrid French and review!