"I suppose so Mr Weasley." She said. "Blood never lies."


The classroom was hot and stifling, and thirteen year old Harry Potter was glaring at the Potions assignment that Snape had assigned.

Ancestry Potion.

Bloody fucking amazing! Harry thought sarcastically to himself.

Lighting the fire underneath his cauldron, Harry could see Hermione on the other side of the classroom already on the third step.

"This is gonna take forever!" Ron Weasley whispered to Harry.

"I know!"

Harry began to smash up the fire seeds, and Ron saw how aggressively Harry was pounding up the seeds into a fine powder.

Ron sighed, and began to smash up his own fire seeds. He knew Harry was annoyed because he knew nothing about his ancestry and that most of his classmates did.

Pouring out half a cup of dragon blood for Harry and one for himself, Ron began to gently pouring the dragon's blood into the cauldron. Soon after, the pounded fire seeds were gently stirred into the mixture.


"And some of your own blood should suffice." Snape drawled.

"Never trust thirteen year olds with knives." Harry muttered.

Ron snorted as he sliced the palm of his hand and some blood fell into the cauldron.

A piece of parchment appeared in front of Ron and he picked it up.

"Oh good, I'm not someone else's child." Ron sighed in relief.

Harry smiled as he let some of his own blood fall into the cauldron and the same thing happened.

The bell rang and Harry seized his piece of parchment before walking out of the classroom with Ron by his side.

They hadn't been hanging out with Hermione lately.


The duo entered the warm courtyard and found a corner to sit down.

"Read what it says." Ron said eagerly.

Harry opened the piece of parchment and he paled.

Harold (Harry) James Fleamont Henry Potter.

Born: 31st July 1980.

Mother: Lily Potter née Evans (Deceased.)

Father: James Henry Potter. (Deceased)

Maternal Grandparents: Harold Joseph Evans And Iris Rose Blackburn. (Both Deceased)

Paternal Grandparents: Fleamont Harry Potter (living) and Euphemia Aurora McMillan (Deceased)

Maternal Great Grandparents: Joseph Edward Evans and Rose Emma Brown. (Parents of Harold) Jack Daniel Blackburn and Rose Iris Williams (Parents of Iris)

Paternal Great Grandparents: Henry Alexander Potter and Charlotte Elizabeth Olivia Fawley (Parents of Fleamont) James Conor McMillan and Aurora Liliana Pawns (Parents of Euphemia)

MORE FAMILY MEMBERS! TAP YOUR WAND TO SEE!

"What the-"

"Your dad's father's still alive!" Ron said, grinning like mad. "Holy shit!"

"I know! I could have a relative who's at least halfway decent!" Harry said, grinning.

"And there's more! More family! My family!" Harry said.

Ron felt a punch to his stomach. Harry was so happy about finding. family, when Ron wished he could just have a little less of his family.

"Harold." Ron snorted. "You're called Harold."

"Shut up." Harry laughed as he folded up the precious piece of parchment that he treasured already.

"Let's not tell Hermione." Ron said.

"Why?"

"She'll tell Dumbledore or a Prefect or Percy." Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I don't that to happen, and have her ruin it for you."

Harry smiled.

"And you."

"Why me?" Ron asked.

"Because you read the parchment as well, so you're involved in this. But we have to tell someone though Ron. I want to be out of the Dursleys as fast as Snape can run from shampoo."

Ron laughed at the Snape and Shampoo joke.

"McGonagall?"

"Definitely. We can trust her."


"What?!"

Minerva McGonagall was stunned.

"It's not possible..."

"The potion doesn't lie Professor. That's why blood is the most important ingredient in most Family Potions, because blood never lies. It's impossible!" Ron said.

Minerva smiled at Ron.

"I suppose so Mr Weasley." She said. "Blood never lies."

"So?" Harry asked. "Now what?"

"We're leaving at midnight." Minerva said. "I have a few ideas where Monty could be."

"Monty?" Ron asked.

"He preferred going by Monty." Minerva explained. "He will definitely ask you, Mr Weasley, to call him Monty."

"And me?" Harry asked.

Minerva smiled again. "Monty will not mind what you call him. If you are not comfortable just yet calling him Grandpa or Papa or Grandfather, he will not mind if you call him Monty. Anything but Fleamont really."

Harry relaxed.

"Monty does have some emotional and mental wounds however." Minerva said and the delight on Harry and Ron's faces fell. "He went through mental health problems as a young teenager, and many of them will still be open. He went through a period of self harm."

"No!" Ron sobbed.

"No no no." Harry sobbed.

"But it didn't last long though. Henry Potter caught him cutting himself one night and confronted him. Slowly, but surely I suppose, Monty's wounds healed, but sometimes they reopened and he would... He would normally would need to talk to someone soon, sometimes immediately."

"You don't have to say anymore." Harry said.

"Thank you, I had to say that for a quick warning, though, Mr Potter, you helped Monty's wounds heal when you were a baby. He was constantly cuddling you and giving you chocolate. Monty loved chocolate, and I caught him saying to you rather seriously one day how unhealthy his obsession with chocolate was, and there you were, happily eating a bar of chocolate." Minerva said, smiling at the memory.

"We better get ready for midnight." Ron said.

"Meet me at the Great Hall." Minerva said. "Bring the Invisiblabitly Cloak. Never your classes, I'll inform your teachers that you're 'ill'. Supposedly."

She winked, and the two boys smiled.


Ron and Harry ran to their dormitory at top speed, their stomachs jumping with excitement.

"I'm gonna meet my grandfather!" Harry whispered.

"I'm gonna meet... Uncle Monty!" Ron whispered back.

Harry smiled.

"Uncle?"

"Well I have to call him something you arsehole!"

"Hey!"

"You just got burned Potter."

"Shut it Weasley."

Ron just smirked.


Bursting into the dormitory, Harry dug into his trunk and found two duffle bags.

"Why do you have two of them?" Ron asked.

"It's Hogwarts."

"True."

Harry packed his photo album with all the pictures of his parents, the warmest clothes he could find, thick black socks, a spare change of shoes and several snacks and drinks. Oh, and the Marauders map and anything of value really.

"D'you have money on you?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, why?" Harry asked.

"Thought it might be handy to bring money." Ron said, his face going red with mild embarrassment.

"Good idea, I would have never thought of that!" Harry said, getting two pouches of money out of his bedside locker.

He tossed a pouch over to Ron, and kept one for himself.

"What?! This is mine?!"

"Yes, you dork, that's yours." Harry said.

"I can't take it-"

"You will, or I'll ask Fred and George to get some embarrassing pictures of you naked as a baby-"

"Fine, but only because of the pictures!"

Ron soon finished packing, and the two boys laughed at the thought they were going to find a supposedly dead man, Fleamont Potter.