"James Potter stared blankly at the cards in his hands. Although he was surrounded by friends, his heart was full of sorrow and grief. For fourteen years ago to that very day his youngest son, Harry James Potter, was born. He had been Irish twins with his brother, Merlin Godric Phoenix Jesus Elizabeth Miranda Banana Fanna Potter nay Gryffindor the third, but was unfortunately ignored."

"His son's troubles then grew when the Potter family was attacked by Lord Voldermort. James had fought valiantly but was stunned along with his wife, Lily."

"Lily actually still had a bit of pregnancy weight on her then, despite the fact that their second child had been born months before. It was actually quite fun to trace the nasty looking stretch marks, although it did annoy the hell out of the quick tempered women. And boy was she quick tempered! Why, just the other day-"

"Does he always narrate his life out loud like this?" Nymphadora Tonks reached over and plucked the cards from the oblivious James' hands. She put them in the deck before passing it Remus Lupin who was seated next to her.

Across from her, Sirius Black shrugged. "Not normally, usually just on Harry's birthday, Hallow's Eve and May sixth."

"May sixth?"

"We're not quite sure ourselves." Having finished shuffling, Remus dealt out the cards.

Playing cards every Sunday had been a tradition since the the three men had been in Hogwarts. When James inherited his manor in Godric's Hollow their pattern didn't change, except for a extra member. Nymphadora, or Tonks, having finished auror training, had begun to join them. She took the place of ...well, she took their forth chair.

"James didn't think his wife was a total bitch of course. But there were times he just wanted to-"

"That's sad," Tonks frowned. She grabbed a nut from the bowl on the table, tossed it in the air, then accidentally hit her eye attempting to catch it.

"Why should she care if he had a collection of toe nails? Everybody has their own hobbies. James just-"

"I know," Sirius sighed. "James has always been a little off, there's no doubt about that, but ever since Harry went missing from the orphanage that Lily's sister dumped him in he's just gotten worse. It's a pity." He sighed again and scratched his head. "Do you have any queens?"

"I've got a four-of-a-kind. Queens." Harrison Brown smirked as he placed his cards on the dining table and looked expectantly at the friends surrounding him. The plump girl across from him pouted childishly as she threw down the cards as did the lean boy to his left. The one to his right, however, angrily stood up, knocking his chair over in the process,

"This is bull, Harry, and you know it! There's no way you can win this many bloody times!" He looked to the other two. "Joseph, Izzy, he has to be cheating!"

Joseph's pout turned into an amused smile. "Come on, John. You know as well as I do that Harry isn't cheating. You frisked him for cards six times already!"

"I've never felt so violated," Harry added, inciting laughter from the other two seated players.

"The point is," 'Izzy' interrupted, "Harry hasn't been cheating. He's just a lucky bastard."

"Lucky?" Harry held his hand to his chest in false offense. "My dear Isabella, luck has nothing to do with it. I am simply a bloody amazing poker player."

"Amazing my arse," spat John. He picked up the fallen chair and sat. His brown eyes bore into Harry's green. "One more game. You verses me." He pushed his towers of chips into the center of the table. "All or nothing."

Harry started back, his face a mixture of confusion and amusement. Finally he shrugged and copied the brown-eyed boy's actions. "Fine."

Isabella dealt the cards, her eyes twinkling all the while. Harry grabbed his two cards, purposely acting over-protective as he held them tightly to his chest. Joseph snickered as he came up behind him, reached over his shoulder and tried to pry his hands away so he could see.

"Will you two stop playing around for one minute?" John snapped.

Isabella had dealt out four cards by that time. Harry bit his tongue as her hand returned to the deck. 'Jack of diamonds, jack of diamonds, jack of diamonds...'

She flipped the last card over; a jack of diamonds. 'Yes!' Harry unconsciously let out the breath he was holding. He looked up to meet John's eyes.

John sneered.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

John continued to sneer.

Harry rubbed his nose.

John glared.

Harry absently yawned and scratched his shoulder.

John glared and sneered.

Harry looked at the silver watch on his wrist.

"You two can show your cards anytime now."

John turned over his cards. "Two pair. Jacks and tens."

Harry nodded and slapped his cards on the table, before calmly turning them over. "Royal Flush. Diamonds."

John bit his tongue. "You know what? Screw you guys, I'm going home." John's face turned an interesting shade of purple as he stood up, walked to the front door of Joseph's house and stormed out, slamming the door once outside.

The three friends sat in silence for a moment, before Isabella gave out a small giggle which led to them all laughing uproariously. They all got up and walked to the living area, plopping themselves on the couches. To one side of them a window took up the wall, revealing the bustling streets of London below.

"Why do we keep him around?" Harry asked.

"Constant entertainment," Joseph retorted. Harry laughed despite the tutting of Isabella, who felt a bit bad for the bad-tempered boy.

"Lighten up, Izzy," Harry wiggled in the leather seat, causing it to make inappropriate noises. Isabella made a disgusted face, although the corners of her mouth lifted against her will.

"You guys are bad influences." She looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "Which is exactly why I need to get home. My mother doesn't like me staying over here with 'those rufllings' too late."

She stood up and gave each of them a hug. "I'll see you two at the game." She ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "Score a goal for me if I don't see you before it starts." She gave Joseph a quick kiss. "And you better stop a couple for me."

"Yes ma'am."

Once she was out Harry started to fiddle with his collar. "She wants me."

Joseph smiled and rolled his eyes. With one last shake of Harry's collar a handful of cards fell out and onto the Persian rug.

"Nice job slipping those to me by the way."

Joseph smiled smugly as he moved to help pick the cards up. "Thanks, I was wondering how to do that without slipping them under the table. But, how about Bella dealing that jack of diamonds? How lucky can a guy get?"

"I know, I was practically chanting that card in my head." He looked at the clock. "Can I just stay here tonight. My uniform is already with coach. I can just stay in these clothes till the game."

Joseph nodded, "Yeah, sure. My parents won't mind."

"Alright." Harry peeked into the dining room. "I'll pick up the cards, then call Cristina."

Joseph gave a dreamy smile, "Mmm, Cristina."

Harry scrunched up his nose, "That's wrong on so many levels. One-you have a Izzy and, although she's obviously in love with me, she's still your girlfriend. Two-Cristina is twenty-years old and way too cool for you. And three- she's my sister. Put your tongue back in your mouth."

Joseph shrugged, "A guy can dream."

"That's sick."

Harry picked up the cards from the table as Joseph gathered the chips. He lazily glanced the bottom of the deck, then after a second looked again. It was the jack of diamonds. He stared at it, then looked to where the cards Isabella had dealt still were. In the place of the jack of diamonds that had made him win there was a three of spades. He looked at the deck.

Jack of diamonds.

He looked at the dealt cards.

Three of spades.

Jack of diamonds.

Three of spades.

He blinked and looked again.

Same thing.

Joseph poked him in the back the head. Harry rubbed it, shrugged, and then continued picking them up.

Meanwhile, in Scotland, an aging headmaster sat at his desk. To any average observer, the office would be full of several jibblish books, useless trinkets and an empty bird perch at the corner of a cluttered desk with bland paintings of empty chairs lining the wall.

However, to certain people, people with abilities similar to the old man, though most to a lesser extent, the office was full of ancient text, some of the most expensive dark detectors on the market, one of the rarest creatures in their world and the walls were lined with moving portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses.

"Albus!"

The man started but did not look up from the papers on his desk. "Come in."

The sound of the door opening was heard, although if the Albus Dumbledore were to look up, he would see no one.

"Headmaster, I have something very interesting for you."

At this the headmaster looked up and once realizing the person was probably hiding, looked mischievously at the edge of his desk. "Interesting, hmm?"

"Yes, but I may need a little help."

Albus chuckled, "Dear Minnie, while I do appreciate your attempt to, uhem, relieve my stress, I'll have to decline. I just have so many records to go through. But, maybe tonight..."

A pair of tiny hands grasping the edge of his desk interrupted him. The old man's eyes widened as a small man managed to lift himself into the seat opposite him.

"Oh! Professor Flitwick!... Has anyone ever told you that your voice has a slightly feminine tone?"

The Charms Professor huffed. "I'm just going to ignore this incident altogether, Albus. Now as I was saying, I have something for you."

He placed a stack of papers, all tied together with a piece of string, on the desk. Albus tugged at the string and once it fell away the stack enlarged to about three times its previous size, spilling onto his desk. He picked out random paper.

"A grade report of one Brown, Harrison James?"

Flitwick nodded. "Look at the pictures, Albus."

He found a pile and riffled through them. A black-haired toddler being held by a girl of about ten with similar hair. Various pictures of a boy posing with muggle sporting equipment and some of them catching him in the action of using them. Many of them had the boy with a another brunette boy about the same age and, as the boys aged, a pretty blond girl frequently appearing.

Albus finally found himself holding two. One picture was taken at an odd angle. It was taken of a mirror. The boy was once again in it, this time the age of about a fourth or fifth year. In his reflection he was holding a blood soaked towel to his knee, but was grinning widely. In the mirror, the ebony haired girl who was taking the picture was also smiling.

"Who is this girl?"

"I'm not quite sure."

Albus nodded and looked at the last. The picture wasn't nearly as good as the others, which he guessed had been taken by mainly one person. The picture was also of the boy and the girl. They were laying in the grass, their arms seemingly slung around each other's shoulders in a friendly manner. The boy's face took up most of the photo.

Albus' eyes shot from the boy's green eyes, to his messy black hair, and finally to the oddly shaped scar on his forehead.

"Harry..."

"Gooooooooooal!"

Harry grinned as the crowd around him screamed in approval. His game already done, he had climbed to the top of the stadium in boredom. Now the pitch was filled with players, half in red, half in green. Although you could barely even see the ball from his point, the crowd around him paid no mind and were as rambunctious as the ones with seats basically on the pitch.

Harry sat down and watched as best as he could for a moment, before a young women walking down from above caught his attention. He recognized her as a higher year from his school, but barely recognized that fact as he watched her pretty legs which were clothed in a skirt that was way too short for someone of her height.

'A little wind would be just perfect right now. Come on, wind...wind, wind, wind...'

A barely noticeable gust of wind hit the back of his neck, before slowly picking up to get strong enough to lift the skirt higher than it already was. Harry grinned. He was such a lucky bastard.

Ring!

Harry started as his phone began its obnoxious ring tone, and quickly answered it.

"Yeah?"

"Where the bloody hell are you?!"

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear as the screeching continued. "Cristina?"

"Where are you, Harry?"

He began to make his way down. "I'm still at the futbol pitch. What's wrong?"

"Just meet me in the front, alright?"

"Fine." Harry pocketed the phone and began to go faster, easily hopping from row to row. Cristina freaking out was pretty odd. She herself admitted she was simply a spoiled brat and as long as she had what she wanted, which she usually did, she was just peachy. And even when she did go crazy, it was on their dad, never on him...unless he replaced her face cleanser with toothpaste or something of that sort, which he didn't...or not that day at least.

When he finally made it out of the stadium and into the parking lot, Cristina's fashionable silver car was already there. He jogged over and looked through the passenger side window.

"Hi," he said hesitantly.

She turned towards him from behind the wheel. Harry couldn't tell if she was glaring or not because of the large sunglasses covering her blue eyes, so he smiled tentatively.

She whipped of her glasses. She was glaring. "Get in."

He gave a quick desperate look across the parking lot. Joseph and Isabella had already gone for their date and all his other teammates were still in the stadium. Harry sighed and climbed in.

As soon as his door closed, his sister hit the gas. She stayed silent as she turned onto the street and headed in the direction of her flat, where Harry was also staying.

After a few minutes Harry began to calm down. 'She's not yelling at me...Maybe someone else made her mad right before she called me?' He nodded and fully relaxed, moving to put his tired feet up on the dashboard.

"Get your muddy shoes off of that!" Cristina snapped. His feet fell down with a thump.

'Alright...I guess she is mad at me. But, what did I do?'

As she parked the car outside her building she turned to him. "Do you have anything you want to tell me?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he opened his door. "No."

She sighed as she got out and looked over the top of the car at him. "Are you sure? No part-time job you may be in?"

'A job?' "No".

She nodded, "Fine then, come on."

Harry followed up the stairs, stopping at her flat's front door. They stepped in and as she went to hang up her trendy leather jacket, Harry went to the living quarters. He blinked as he entered the white-themed room and sat on the couch. A moment later she joined him, a letter clutched in her hand.

"Here," she said thrusting it at him.

He looked at it. It was addressed to one Harry Potter in the guest bedroom of Mona flat number 4, South Kensington, London.

Cristina stared at him as if waiting for him to say something.

"Um...that's my room."

She rolled her eyes, "I realize that, Harry." She continued to stare.

"Uh...that's oddly specific, huh?"

She rolled her eyes once again and sighed. "Look, yesterday, a few hours after you left for Joseph's, an old man came by here looking for someone named Harry. He had a long white beard, and was wearing a dress."

"A dress?"

Cristina nodded, "A dress. Covered in stars. He looked like a druggie, so I just told him he got the wrong address. He apologized and left. This morning he came back, told me this was the right address, and told me to deliver this letter to you."

"But, this is addressed to Harry Potter."

"Exactly."

Harry chewed his lip, trying to figure out what his sister was getting at. 'Some crazy druggie in a dress shows up asking for Harry Potter. A druggie asking for Harry Potter. Potter. Oh, wait! Potter!'

"You think I'm a drug dealer!" Harry yelled triumphantly. Cristina nodded frantically.

Harry snorted, "What would I need to deal drugs for?"

Cristina glared and shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe you have some pregnant girlfriend running around? Or maybe you adopted some random kid you saw and wanted to keep her safe?"

"I'm fourteen!"

"What's that matter?!"

"I'm fourteen!"

"You look older!" She shot back defensively.

"But, I'm not."

She huffed, "Fine, you don't have a child or a knocked up girlfriend. But, who is Harry Potter and who was that old man?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know about the old man, but...Potter...Despite that sounding like a horrible codename, it rings a bell...What was my name before Mum and Dad adopted me?"

She shook her head, "I was too distressed over having a little brother to remember."

"That warms my heart."

"I'm just kidding."

"No, your not."

"Well I got over it, then."

Harry bit his lip, "Where are the adoption papers?"

"There probably over at dad's house. Didn't he give you a key?"

"No. He thought I would throw wild parties while he was out on his 'business trip'."

Cristina smirked, "Where ever could he get that idea?"

"It was one time!"

"..."

"Alright, it was a couple of times, but that's not the point." He raised the letter up. "This may be about me. How are we supposed to find out?"

"You could start with opening the letter."