Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

Chapter 34: The End of the Beginning (pt. 2)

Updated 8/22/15: Because, as Cbear8 correctly pointed out, Dudley Dursley never got a pig's tail in this timeline.

POTTER MANOR. 7 PM.

Lily Potter apparated into the foyer of Potter Manor just before dinner, and after summoning a house elf to take away her trunks and other possessions, she made her way to the kitchen area. While Potter Manor had a full-sized dining room, it was far too big for just three people, and so the family usually ate their meals in the breakfast nook at a table just big enough for three. Actually, it was big enough for four, but Lily had spent ten years training herself to ignore that empty spot where the fourth chair should have gone. Dinner was already on the table: cottage pie, roasted potatoes and treacle tart for desert – all of Jim's favorites.

The three Potters made amiable chitchat as they ate, but Jim thought the tension in the room was suffocating. Questions about how his first year went, about the Quidditch team's prospects for next year, about what trips the family should take when James's vacation days arrived. Nothing about Harry. Nothing about Voldemort. Nothing about that smell on James's breath that Jim suspected was Scotch. But things didn't get really bad until James mentioned Uncle Pete.

"By the way, Lils. I saw Peter today. He sends his congratulations for finishing your first year as a Professor."

Lily paused with a spoon almost to her mouth as she looked up into James's eyes. "That's nice," she finally said in a tone suggesting that it wasn't nice at all. "Where did you bump into him?"

"Oh, you know," said James lamely, as if he suddenly regretted even mentioning Peter's name. "I had to drop by his office today to go over some ... legal matters. Nothing major."

"Um-hmm," said Lily before taking another sip of wine. Jim looked back and forth between his mother and father somewhat nervously. There had been tension between the two ever since they learned Harry was a wizard, but it seemed to have gotten exponentially worse since Christmas. The three ate in silence for a while before Lily spoke to him.

"So, Jim, what plans do you have for summer? You know, as soon as you've got your homework done," she said with a smile.

"Come on, Lils," laughed James. "Let the boy relax a little before you start in about his homework." Lily smiled at that, but there was a flash of ... something in her eyes.

"No, that's okay," said Jim hurriedly. "I do plan to get my homework done early. In fact ... I was wondering if it might be possible to, um, get some tutoring this summer? I didn't do as well in some classes as I wanted, and I want to do better next year."

James put his wine glass down and crooked an eyebrow at his youngest son. "Who are you and what have you done with Jim Potter?" he said jokingly.

"I'm serious," Jim said. James winced slightly at that remark for some reason, but the boy continued. "I asked Professor McGonagall, and she said that there's a form either of you can fill out and file with the Ministry that will allow you to oversee me practicing with a wand for up to twenty hours a month. Or someone else who is qualified and passes a background check if neither of you have the time for it. Anyway, whoever the teacher is casts a notification spell when my lessons start and when they end, and as long as the teacher stays in the room with me, it won't count as underage magic."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Why have I never heard of this?"

"Well, honestly, most wizarding parents can't pass the background check because they don't have enough OWLS to be acceptable teachers. Also, it's ... kind of expensive. Five-hundred Galleons a month for the license and then twenty-five Galleons per hour of wand-training time, plus the costs for the instructor if you want to hire someone else to teach me."

James nearly choked on his wine. "What?! That's insane! You could buy Firebolts for your whole team for that!"

"Dad, we're rich! We can afford it! And frankly, I think spending money to further my education is more important than Quidditch!"

While James was processing that seemingly impossible concept, Lily stepped in. "What would you want to study?"

"Charms, Potions ..." he hesitated. "Defense. I need to do better at all those, but mainly Defense." Both of his parents tried to say something, but he continued speaking over them. "And not just magical defense, Mom. I want to start back with Taekwondo again, and I want to actually get good at it. If that means doubling up my lessons with Master Hanaro, that's okay with me."

"Jim," said his father quietly, "is this about what happened with Quirrell?"

The boy just looked at his father. He felt a brief impulse to laugh hysterically but fought it down. "Yes, Dad, of course, it's about what happened with Quirrell! I spent thirty minutes tied up on the floor at the man's feet waiting to see if he was going to kill me first or make me watch one of my classmates die instead! And the only reason we didn't all die is because three Slytherins came to save us!" The boy looked down at the table and tried to calm himself. "The Boy-Who-Lived can't be ... useless."

"You weren't useless, Jim," said James. "Your power protected you, just like before. It always will."

"You don't KNOW that!" Jim snapped in frustration. "None of us know how this power works! Or how often I can use it! Or even what it is! Just that it protects me from Voldemort," both his parents flinched, "but it apparently puts me into a coma afterwards. And it didn't do a thing to protect me from Quirrell's Incarcerous or his Confundus, so I don't see why it would protect me from a Killing Curse from anyone who's not Voldemort! And another thing," he said quickly before his parents could interrupt, "since I already mentioned that I'm vulnerable to the Confundus Curse ... I want to learn Occlumency."

At that, both his parents exploded.

"No!" exclaimed James. "Absolutely not!"

"Jim, you are too young to start learning Occlumency. It can have very serious consequences to your mental health."

"Worse consequences than being mind-controlled by a dark wizard?! Harry's been studying it for months, and it hasn't done anything to him! Or is Occlumency some Slytherin thing that I should hate on principle but you just haven't mentioned it yet?"

"Jim! You will not use that tone with your mother and me, do you understand me?"

Jim sat back in his chair and sighed. "Yes sir," he said dejectedly. "So ... what can I learn this summer?"

James hesitated and looked over at Lily. "Let your mother and I talk about that. We'll let you know tomorrow, okay?"

"I shouldn't even go to Hogwarts if I can't defend myself and my friends," Jim thought to himself miserably. "I'd rather be home-schooled than be a danger to everyone around me." He rubbed his eyes and pushed his half-full plate away. "May I be excused? I'm not very hungry tonight."

His parents both nodded, and the boy got up and left the room. They waited in silence until the sound of his footsteps receded. Then, James turned to his wife. "Well, what do you think? Personally, I'd rather he relax and decompress after everything that happened this year, but ... do you think he needs ... combat training?"

Lily laughed almost bitterly. "Really, James? You're asking me that now? You know perfectly well that I've wanted him to have combat training since he was six, but you've always fought me on it. Honestly, my only objection to Jim learning Occlumency is that he's been so immature and short-tempered. If he buckles down in his studies and makes progress with his martial arts training and shows some real self-discipline, then yes, I think he should start learning that too."

"He's eleven!"

"I don't care how old he is, James! I want Jim to have every advantage he can possibly get! I want him to live! Is that too hard for you to understand!"

"Shhh! Keep it down!" hissed James. He stepped past her into the next room, but it was empty. He listened for a second but heard nothing. Then, he walked back to Lily and took her arms in his hands. "Lily-flower, please. I know you're upset, but of course I want Jim to live. And I know he is going to live. The prophecy..."

She jerked her hands free of his and stepped away from him in annoyance. "James, nothing in that damned prophecy says that Jim is going to survive. It says he has the power to vanquish You-Know-Who but doesn't say he will. It says he has a power the Dark Lord knows not, but doesn't hint as to what it is. It says neither can live while the other survives, and we both know what that means: Jim and You-Know-Who must have a final confrontation in which one of them kills the other, but there is no guarantee that Jim will be the victor. I don't want Jim going into that confrontation putting all his hopes into some vague hidden power!"

"Do you seriously think that Jim could ever beat the Dark Lord with any amount of training, Lily?" said James angrily. "We either figure out what Jim's special power is ... or we accept that Voldemort's going to win. And I can't do that. I can't ... I can't accept losing my son." His voice broke and he turned away to pace the small room, while Lily looked at him with her arms folded.

"You have two sons, remember?" she said coolly. James whirled back towards her, his eyes flashing angrily.

"You think I don't know that?! It was your idea to send him to Petunia, not mine. I wanted to raise Harry and Jim together. I didn't care if he was a squib or not."

"That's rubbish, James. You just completely refused to consider that he even might be a squib. And what would you have done if he actually had been a squib? Or worse, as Albus feared, if he'd been a squib because Jim drained his magic to defeat You-Know-Who? How could any of us have lived with that knowledge, especially since, if it happened again, Jim might drain Harry of his very life? We couldn't have raised Harry in that environment. We'd have broken him, just like Algie Longbottom nearly broke Neville."

"Never! Whether Harry was a squib or not, I would never have given up on him the way you did if you and Dumbledore hadn't talked me into it."

SLAP!

James staggered back under the force of Lily's blow. "How dare you!" she hissed furiously. "How dare you say that I gave up on Harry!"

"What else would you call abandoning him to Petunia and Vernon?"

She stuck out her chin defiantly. "I call it doing whatever it took to help my son survive! Do you want to know the truth, James? When Albus said that Harry was a squib, part of me was thrilled! Thrilled because it meant that whatever happened between Jim and Voldemort, at least Harry would be safe! Be safe and well away from this ... this madhouse we call Wizarding Britain!"

James stared at her in astonishment for several seconds. "I'm sorry. I must have missed the part where you suddenly hated magic. Maybe that's where Petunia gets it from. Does Dumbledore know his Muggle Studies professor is bigoted against magical culture?"

"Spare me your sanctimony, James. Or have you forgotten how my parents died thirteen years ago?"

"My parents died that year too, Lily."

"Your parents died instantly from the Killing Curse, James. My parents were..." The words caught in Lily's throat as she suddenly fought back tears, "were tortured for hours and then burned alive! Burned up along with the house Petunia and I grew up in! And why?" Her voice broke as the tears finally came. "Because they raised a filthy Mudblood daughter who married above her station! THAT'S the Wizarding World I wanted Harry out of!"

James slowly moved to embrace his wife, his own face a mask of pain just like hers. But she stopped him with her hand while she composed herself. "No! No, none of that matters now. You were right, and I was wrong. Harry wasn't a squib and should never have been sent away for that reason. He's a part of the this world now, and we need to deal with that fact."

Then, she pierced James with a firm gaze. "So what are we going to do about him now, James? Harry may be a wizard, but he's also a Slytherin, which you seem to think is worse than being a squib. I've been avoiding him all year because I think it's pointless and even cruel to pretend that we can be one big happy family again while you obviously hate him for his Sorting. Just as he justifiably hates us for sending him away for ten years. And honestly, it would be safest for him if he stayed away from us forever rather than come back and be caught in the crossfire when You-Know-Who returns." She paused to collect her thoughts before looking back up at James. "Anyway, I know you took the whole day off from work even though you didn't have to pick up Jim until four o'clock. Am I right in thinking you spent most of it with Peter brainstorming on how to kick Harry out of our family for good?"

James looked shame-faced and leaned heavily against the table. "Actually ... Peter basically told me ... that I should give up on trying to disinherit Harry. There's no legal way to do it at this point. I mean ... if he flunks his OWLS or, I dunno, murders someone, it's possible. But neither of those seem too likely, so Pete says I should just accept this for now." He looked back up at Lily. "Maybe even try to develop some sort of relationship with him."

Lily came close to James and put her hand on his shoulder. "Do you mean it? And do you think it's even possible after everything that's happened?"

"I don't know, Lily-flower," he said tiredly. "But I think I'm going to try."

Lily smiled. Then, she kissed his cheek and moved in for a tight hug. James hugged his wife back as if afraid she'd disappear, but the love he felt for her couldn't overcome the icy fear that gripped his heart.

DIAGON ALLEY. 3:30 PM (EARLIER THAT DAY)

"James, we have been over this and over this," said Peter who had spent hours arguing with James to no avail. It was a good thing they were billable hours. "I warned you from the start that it would be nearly impossible to disinherit Harry unless the boy actually did something listed as grounds within the Inheritance Act of 1588. Well, he's only eleven. He's not going to commit a Class AAA felony. He's not going to get some Muggle girl pregnant out of wedlock. From what you've said, it seems unlikely he's going to flunk out of Hogwarts. And I doubt seriously that he's going to swear fealty to the King of Spain!"

James groaned and put his head into his hands. They'd been arguing all morning about various options. Peter pointedly reminded James that his obstinate refusal to tell Peter why he wanted to disinherit his Heir Presumptive made things even more difficult. "What has the boy done to you to provoke this reaction? Is it just the Slytherin thing? Or is it that you think the Boy-Who-Lived is more deserving of inheriting your fortune than the one you thought was a squib?"

"Jim being the Boy-Who-Lived has nothing to do with this, Peter. And I don't give a damn about the fortune. Hell, I'd give Harry every last knut in my vault if he'd just give up the Potter name! But I cannot have a Slytherin heir and that's all there is to it!"

Peter stared at James in complete astonishment. "Do you really mean that? You'd bankrupt your family just to cast Harry out of it? And just because of his Sorting?! I don't understand."

"And I don't need you to understand, Peter," snapped James irritably. "I just need you to make it happen."

Peter's eyes narrowed. Then, he smiled. "Alright, James. Here is my official legal advice. Make peace with the boy. Abandon all efforts to disinherit him. If possible, get the boy to move back in with you and Lily during the summers. Surrender." He held up a hand, as James started to object. "For now. Honestly, I think your biggest problem in dealing with Harry is that you really don't know anything about your own son. What makes him tick. What he wants out of life. What his hopes and fears are. So bury the hatchet and try to establish a rapport. When he turns fifteen, he'll be entitled to the Heir Apparent's stipend, which is a comfortable lifestyle but not filthy rich by any means. He won't come into his full inheritance and the benefits of Lordship until you're dead, which might be sixty or seventy years if you take care of yourself. So maybe, if you and he are getting along by the time he turns fifteen, you can turn his Slytherin nature to your advantage and persuade him to leave the family in exchange for a hefty lump sum payment." Peter paused, and his eyes gleamed a little bit more. "And if not, maybe closer proximity will show you which buttons to push to get him to do something for which you can legally disinherit him. Certainly, it's a better idea than anything else we've tried."

James sighed. "And if that doesn't work?"

Peter smirked unpleasantly, and that ratlike gleam in his eyes practically burned. "If no legal process has worked by the time the boy's of age, then I'll simply have to look into ... alternative approaches."

James stiffened. "Like what?"

Peter's smile abruptly dropped away. "Like things you won't be told about before I do them so that Lord Potter can have clean hands," he snapped. "You've been trying to disinherit the son you abandoned for nearly ten years, James, and we're nearly to the point where plausible deniability may be necessary for any future efforts. And if we do reach that point, you will let me do my job and not ask me any unpleasant questions about how the sausage gets made." The gleam intensified to the point that James had to look away from his old friend, just as a week before he could barely maintain eye contact with Albus Dumbledore. But in that case, the old man's gaze filled him with shame for failing to live up to Gryffindor ideals. Peter's gaze filled him with a different shame, one that made him feel dirty and low and unworthy to have ever been Sorted into Gryffindor in the first place.

Then, a clock on the fireplace mantle chimed, and the solicitor sighed and relaxed. "Anyway, you'd better head on now, James, if you want to pick Jim up at the station." Then, he perked up and snapped his fingers. "But I almost forgot – before you go, stop in with Yvette. She has some papers for you to sign. Some diversification plans for your portfolio. You may need to increase your liquidity if you end up having to bribe the boy into submission."

James stood slowly and shook Peter's hand. "Thanks, Pete. I'm ... sorry I snapped earlier. I really do appreciate all your help with this."

"Think nothing of it, James. That's what friends are for. Now, you go home and look after your wife and son. You just leave Harry Potter to me." Then, Peter smiled broadly, which James always found disturbing on account of how unusually sharp his friend's teeth were.

POTTER MANOR. 8 PM.

Both exhausted from their argument, James and Lily left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. A moment later, there was a flourish of motion, as Jim Potter, who had been standing and eavesdropping in the next room, dropped his Invisibility cloak and grabbed the edge of a chair as his knees nearly buckled. "The power the Dark Lord knows not," the prophecy said. "Neither can live while the other survives," the prophecy said. His mother was desperate to get him whatever training she could because she had no faith in the mysterious "hidden power" alluded to in the prophecy. His father, on the other hand, had so much faith in the prophecy that he didn't see the need for any additional training at all. But both of them agreed on one point – if Jim Potter could not defeat Voldemort, then Voldemort would win and Jim would die, along with his parents, his friends, and everyone he cared about, and his entire world would be plunged into darkness and fire. As the enormity of his burden struck home, Jim slowly slid down the wall he'd been leaning against and fought the urge to sob.

4 PRIVET DRIVE. 9 PM.

After completing their business at Gringotts, Harry, Hestia and Artie celebrated with a nice meal at Summerisle's before driving out to Surrey. They arrived at 4 Privet Drive just after nine o'clock. Artie knocked sharply on the door, which was opened by what appeared to be an anthropmorphic pig wearing baggy sweatpants and an ill-fitting "SMELTINGS" T-shirt. Dudley Dursley looked at the three for a long while before yelling over his shoulder. "MOM! DAD! THE FREAK'S BACK! AND HE'S GOT TWO OTHER FREAKS WITH HIM!"

"Charming," muttered Artie.

"Oh, you have no idea," replied Harry as he pushed his way past Dudley and led the other two into the house. "Good evening, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon. I'd like to introduce some people to you. These are my solicitors: Artemus Podmore and Hestia Jones. They have some legal matters they'd like to discuss with you."

"What's the meaning of this!?" blustered Vernon. "Are they FREAKS like you, boy!?"

Harry looked at his uncle with obvious disgust. "Yes, Uncle Vernon. They're both freaks like me. Except that these freaks are fully grown wizards who know a lot more magic than me and who have the legal right to use it. So I wouldn't use that word again because you might end up on all fours squealing like a pig." Vernon paled, while Dudley whimpered in fear. Apparently, at some point over the last year, Vernon and Petunia had explained to their son what sorts of things an angry wizard could do to a Muggle who had drawn his wrath.

Minutes later, after sending Dudley upstairs, Vernon and Petunia sat down across the kitchen table from the three wizards as Hestia and Artie explained "how it's going to be." Harry's room was Harry's room. They would be making some modifications to it for security purposes but nothing that should have any impact on the Dursleys. Muggles would be in over the next week to install separate phone and cable TV lines for the boy's room which he would pay for himself. He would also get a mini-fridge, a hotplate and a microwave and be responsible for his own meals. After that, a door would be put into the exterior wall of Harry's room with magic, along with a set of stairs leading down to the back yard so that he could come and go without disturbing them. These would be concealed from Muggle eyes by magic and removed when Harry eventually moved out. In the meantime, the Dursleys wouldn't even know he was there except for when he came out of his room to take a shower or use the toilet. Starting in July, he would be gone every Saturday for tutoring with a wand-certified instructor and also be gone every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon for tutoring in other courses (which included Occlumency, financial management and even flying lessons, though the wizards didn't bother to share those irrelevant details). He had tentative plans to leave and visit friends over the summer, and as a courtesy, he would notify the Dursleys when he'd be gone for any extended time.

Most importantly, Harry would do no chores and be subject to no discipline from Vernon, let alone bullying from Dudley and his friends. On this issue, Hestia abandoned any pretense of deference to the Dursley's feelings. While wizards had no monarchy, they did have an aristocracy of sorts, and Harry was a son of it. And if he were deliberately harmed while in the Dursley's "care" and it were reported to the right Ministry officials, there would be no official sanction... because those officials wouldn't waste the effort of legal due process on Muggles who assaulted wizards of Harry's status. Instead, some people would probably just come for them in the night, and by the time the sun rose, none of their friends, neighbors or coworkers would even remember that anyone named Dursley had ever lived at 4 Privet Drive.

With that, Harry led the two solicitors up to his room where they made a few technical notes about the changes to his room. Then, they produced a bill for him to sign in order to pay for the modifications as well as for their legal work to date. Harry was happy to pay – thanks to Hestia and Artie, he now had a second and rather sizeable trust vault, one which he could access relatively freely and about which James Potter knew nothing. The two solicitors left, and Harry unpacked his trunk and placed Hedwig's cage on the hook next to the window. Then, he plopped down onto his bed and sighed happily. It was going to be a great summer.

Downstairs, as Hestia was leaving, she made eye contact with Vernon and Petunia and shuddered. The look they were giving her was unsettling. She decided that tomorrow, she'd talk with Artie about whether any additional security measures were needed. As the witch closed the door behind her, Petunia threw herself into Vernon's arms and started weeping.

"Shh, Pet," said Vernon soothingly. "It'll be alright."

"But they were in our house, Vernon. And the things they said! Us just disappearing in the night like that.

Vernon held his wife close and rubbed her back soothingly. "They said that he'll keep the freakishness away from us. That we'll hardly know the boy is here. That's ... that's got to be an improvement, right?"

"But what if he doesn't? What if ... what if the boy ... gets worse?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Vernon turned and looked up, as if he could peer through the ceiling to the boy's room and see him sitting there, mocking them both, leering at them with his wicked green eyes. Vernon's mouth twitched nervously.

"If it gets worse?" Vernon repeated in a low mean voice, one that promised to protect his family from their unwanted and unnatural intruder, no matter what the cost. "Well, then, the Freak will have to sleep sometime, won't he?"

POTTER MANOR. 3 AM.

James stared at the ceiling of the darkened bedroom for hours until he could stand it no longer. Carefully, he got out of bed without waking Lily and made his way down the hall to his private office. Once inside, he locked the door with his strongest privacy spell and poured himself another glass of Scotch. There was a part of him that knew perfectly well that alcohol never solved anything. There was another part, however, that believed that alcohol was as good a response as any when there were no solutions to be had. He sat there for quite a while, sipping his Scotch and staring out the window as the full moon shown down upon him. Idly, he wondered where Remus was, and whether he was happy or safe or even alive. It had been a long ten years, after all. Shaking off the memory of his former friend, he rose and walked over to the cold fireplace where the Potter coat of arms stood above the mantle. Placing his hand on it, he recited his family's motto.

"Vigilamus Pro Te."

The ancient motto tasted bitter in his mouth. "We stand on guard for thee" was the English translation, but it rather seemed that he'd failed on that regard having fallen asleep at his post in the worst possible way. He felt a soft vibration in his hand, and then the coat of arms slid aside to reveal a compartment that would not have existed in the material world had anyone not of Potter blood tried to open it. Inside were various legal papers, about ten-thousand galleons in an expanding bag, his late father's wand ... and a glass orb which he picked up and carried over to his father's desk. (To James, it would never truly be his desk. It would always belong to Charlus Potter.)

Still holding a glass of Scotch in one hand, James sat and tapped the orb with his wand. The phantasmal form of a woman appeared over it, the seeress Trelawney reciting that wretched prophecy he'd heard so many times before. How he hated the name Trelawney! As James listened to the woman's voice, he thought back over his life – or more accurately, over Harry's life – and the mistakes he'd made that had brought him and his family and his world to this point. He remembered holding little Harry in his arms and weeping uncontrollably when Dumbledore and the doctors said he would be a squib and that it might possibly have been something Jim did to defeat Voldemort that made him a squib. That was his first mistake. He should have demanded to keep Harry in the family, no matter what the cost. Lily was right – it might have broken Harry to be a squib raised in the Potter House alongside with the Boy-Who-Maybe-Stole-His-Magic. Possibly, it might have even killed the boy if some future attack caused Jim to drain Harry's very life away once he had no more magic to give. But James would have raised Harry right, and his Heir would have hated the Slytherins – the way a Potter should have.

He remembered the elation he felt when he learned that Harry was a wizard after all, followed by the horror of realizing how the Dursleys had treated him, and then the heartbreak of Harry telling him to his face that he wished that James had been a Muggle drug addict dead of a car crash. That was his second mistake. He should have snatched Harry away from the Dursleys that day, taken him home and begged and pleaded for forgiveness. If nothing else, he'd have had a month to persuade Harry to fear and distrust the Slytherins – the way a Potter should have.

He remembered receiving the news from Jim about Harry's Sorting and then getting blind-stinking drunk. And far, far worse, sending the boy a Howler while blind-stinking drunk. He didn't even fully appreciate what he'd done until Lily's own Howler screamed at him while he was at the Auror's Office still recovering from his hangover. He remembered the twisting knots in his stomach as he recalled the awful things he'd said. Remembered how he'd completely annihilated any possibility of bringing Harry back into the family. Remembered how he'd ruined everything. All of those things passed through his mind as he downed his Scotch and listened to the final closing lines of the Trelawney Prophecy.

The first Trelawney Prophecy.

Not the one made in 1980 by that drunken fraud Sybil Trelawney which heralded Jim Potter as the Defeater of Voldemort. No, this was the much earlier prophecy made by the celebrated Lady Cassandra Trelawney to Lord Nathaniel Potter in 1780. The prophecy that had guided the Potter family for ten generations as a sacred family trust. The prophecy that now was nothing but a cruel testament to James's failures as a wizard, as a father, and as the Lord of his House.

And you shall know by these portents that the Time of the Dark God approaches
and the Destruction of our World is close at hand:
When the Two who should be as One are set against each other in reckless hate,
and the Last Potter rises as the Prince of Slytherin.

TO BE CONTINUED IN
"HARRY POTTER AND THE SECRET ENEMY"

WOW! Five months. Over 110,000 words. Over 800 reviews and favorites. Over 1000 followers. And we're just getting started! Thanks so much to all of you who have shown your appreciation for this story. Your encouragement has kept me going through some pretty difficult patches.

Now, the bad news (well, mildly bad): Don't worry. I'm not abandoning this story, but I don't want to start publishing "HP&TSE" without getting far enough ahead in my writing because I worry constantly about there being some gaping plot hole that's not apparent until later. Also, July got unexpectedly busy for me and I have a vacation scheduled in August so I'm a bit behind, i.e. only three chapters into HP&TSE instead of the ten I want. So with all that in mind, I will publish the next chapter as soon I've finished writing the next ten chapters, BUT even if I haven't gotten that far, the next chapter will update no later than Monday, August 31, 2015, regardless.

Incidentally, the first chapter of HP&TSE is tentatively called "Summer School," and the last two words of the chapter are "Vernon smiled."

QUESTIONS

1. Previously, I polled my readers about whether you want Year Two to be a continuation of this story or else start over as a separate story, and most readers seemed to want a continuation. However, now that Year One has topped 100k (and I am trying to write longer chapters anyway), do people still feel the same? Let me know in reviews over the month of August. Even if I start "The Secret Enemy" as a new fic, I will post the first chapter here as a preview.

2. As noted, I am trying to write longer updates (Chapter 1 of "Secret Enemy" is about 6500 words). Do people prefer the twice-a-week update schedule even if it's only 2500-5000 or so words? Or would people prefer a weekly update that ranged from 5000 to 10,000 words.

RANDOM AUTHOR NOTES

RE Serena and Blaise Zabini: If there are any fans of HP&TPOS who speak Italian and would be amenable to serving as a beta just for Zabini dialogue, please message me. There won't be a lot of Italian, but apparently Serena Zabini referring to Blaise as "ti amo" was completely wrong according to an anonymous Guest review. That's what I get for relying on Google searches for translation, I suppose. "Uccelinno" should mean "Little Sparrow" which is Serena's pet name for Blaise ... unless it doesn't, in which case I will change it later. I suppose at some point I'll also need a French speaker to deal with Fleur-isms, but that's quite a while away.

RE Why Lily Potter has been acting this way: Imagine that the year after Death Eaters tortured your parents to death, you had twin sons. One of them, according to the best medical evidence available, was a squib. The other is the Chosen One who single-handedly defeated Voldemort, but in the process may have drained the first twin of his magic and possibly may drain the first twin to death if Voldemort returns, which is apparently likely to happen. What steps would you take to protect the squib child?

RE Why James Potter has been acting this way: Imagine that you are Lord Nathaniel Potter and the most celebrated seeress of the day makes a prophecy to you about your family, one which states (among other things not yet revealed):
(1) that someday a Potter will be sorted into Slytherin and rise to some mysterious yet important position within it,
(2) that said Potter will also be the Last Potter, and
(3) that said Last Potter will be the herald of some apocalyptic event that involves a "Dark God."

What steps would you take to avert or at least delay the prophecy from coming to pass? Might you consider raising your children and your children's children and all their descendents to fear and hate Slytherins from early childhood, so that for generations to come, Potter children go under the Sorting Hat saying "Please not Slytherin! Anything but Slytherin!" And what if this works pretty well until one day, a Potter child is mistakenly identified as a squib and sent away to abusive Muggle relatives where, as Snape put it, only Slytherin values would help him survive? Yes, from Harry's perspective, James has been an awful father. From James's own perspective, however, he's basically having a breakdown over the possibility that his firstborn son might be the Wizarding Antichrist.

RE The family lineage of Harry, Jim and Lily: Nope. Sorry. That's something Harry will be keeping in his back pocket until he absolutely needs to pull it out. And I know the exact minute when he will need to pull it out. And it will be awesome. There may be hints, but it won't be officially revealed for a while. (One mini-spoiler: It's not the Gaunts, for whichever reviewer predicted that.)

Finally, and I regret ending on an unpleasant note just before a break in updates, but this message goes out to the charming and delightful person who wrote me an obscenity-laden "Guest" review. CONGRATULATIONS! You now have the rare - indeed unique - status of being the absolute last person from whom I ever receive an anonymous review. In the future, if you feel the need to refer to me as a c***, a b**** and a t*** solely because I said "Heir Presumptive" instead of "Heir Apparent" (yes, that really was the only complaint made the doofus made) you will have to do some from a account to which I can actually respond. Or, more likely, simply report for violations of Terms of Conduct. Also, grow the hell up.