A/N: I just wanted to say that this chapter gives more details about the "Potter Legacy" and alludes to some potential allies if you watch carefully. Thanks for the reviews!

MyraValhallah: A story for Christmas time…

Preetoaka Raven Potter Weasley: I read your profile and you really opened my mind to some things I hadn't thought about before! It was great!

faneka: I always thought that James was more than an average school-bully JK seemed to make it out to be, and I included that in my story. I'm glad you like it!

5ky1ark: Thank you so much! You made my day!

Chapter Ten

About Potters, Redheads, and Cunning

The dining room was a large room with a scarlet rug with gold trimming. It had a doorway on the far side of the room that led to a spiral staircase. There was a large, mahogany table, which took up most of the room, except for a corner that had been sectioned off, with terra cotta tiles, mahogany cabinets a stove and a red marble counter over mahogany cabinets.

The mahogany table was draped in red and gold, piled high with plates of pancakes, bacon, sausage, waffles, cereal and pitchers of milk, pumpkin and orange juice. The walls were draped in red and gold too, making it feel vaguely like a circus tent except for the four pictures on the wall.

One was baby Harry with his parents, which made him blush a little, then there was a man who looked like a trademark Potter with the glasses and messy black hair but had bright blue eyes, and woman who seemed to be his wife, who looked remarkably like Sirius, with the same gray eyes, aristocratic nose, high cheek bones and tan skin, except she had bright red hair. The next picture was another Potter man, except he had brown eyes. The woman was pretty with curly red hair, hazel eyes, tan skin, and plump lips. There was another Potter man, this time with blue eyes, and woman with red hair, warm cocoa eyes, and freckles. Everyone except James, Lily, and Harry were moving.

"Who are those people?" Harry asked his father. The women in the three paintings snorted. "Potter men have no manners," They all intoned, causing their husbands to blush.

"That's right," Lily agreed, walking away from the kitchen and placing a platter of pancakes on the dining room table. She cast a wary eye over at Sirius, who was already seated at the table and looking at the food with a feral expression. "Black men too, Dorea." She nodded to the woman who looked like Sirius.

The woman, Dorea, snorted, "No other Black was like that. It was only Sirius and Regulus."

Sirius, who had been sneaking a piece of bacon looked up at Dorea and said sheepishly, "Sorry, Auntie Dorea."

Dorea laughed and looked at James and Harry, "Jamie! Is that you? And Harry! I haven't seen you since you were six months old!"

Suddenly all the portraits were focused on Harry and James, the former feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hi Mum!" James said, pulling Harry over to the portrait. "Mum, Dad, this is your grandson, Harry. Say hello to Grandma and Grandpa, Harry."

Harry, who was just starting to get used to having parents, let alone grandparents, finally said, "Hello Grandma, Grandpa."

"Hello, Harry," they both intoned. The man, Harry's grandfather turned to James. "Why haven't you taken him here before?"

"I was dead," James said shortly. He didn't really want to think about how the Dursleys had been abusing his son, Dumbledore manipulating him, and the dream about Harry…dying.

The woman with red hair and freckles, looked at James and, frowning, "Your portrait never woke up."

"Maybe because Harry wasn't dead and was in the portrait?" James suggested.

"Maybe," said the woman, "But I don't think so. I think your were dead—like Lily told us, but I think someone has been messing with time. I think that your portraits were purposely waiting until you were brought back to life."

"That makes no sense," James shook his head. "Okay, Harry, so this is your grandmother and grandfather, Charlus and Dorea Potter neé Black, Sirius' great-aunt," he pointed to the first painting. "These are your great-grandparents, Andrew and Gabrielle Potter neé Delacour," he pointed to the second painting, "And those are great-great grandparents, Richard and Delia Potter neé Greengrass."

Harry felt overwhelmed and angry. It was clear the Potters were a large and old family, why hadn't he been told any of this? And second of all, why were all the women redheads? He brushed the second question aside for now, and looked at his father. "Why wasn't I told any of this, Dad?" Harry inwardly smiled at the saying 'dad', but plowed on, "I mean, surely someone could've told me all of this! The Weasleys, Hagrid, Dumbledore—" he stopped when he got to Dumbledore, looking around at his family's angry faces. "What about Dumbledore?"

Harry knew Dumbledore had put him with the Dursleys from what Sirius and Remus had told him, and also knew there were three other people who would've been able to take him, but figured Dumbledore would've had good reasons. But looking at his family's faces told him something was very, very wrong.

Lily looked grim, "Come eat first, sweetheart. James has something to show and then we'll go to the study and discuss this. But I'll tell you this: Dumbledore is no longer a friend."

Harry was bewildered and wanted to comment more on this, but Lily forced him into chair and piled his plate high with oatmeal, orange juice, toast, fruit, sausages, bacon, pancakes and the like. Harry was slowly getting the feeling that Lily may have more in common with Mrs. Weasley than just hair color.

Breakfast was a lively affair. The Marauders and Lily regaled tales of their Hogwarts years, and Harry entertained with stories of his friends and enemies. The Marauders grinned and cheered when he told them about Draco Malfoy, and Lily had groaned something about some traditions not worth keeping. The Marauders then proceeded to tell him about how they met Snape—Snivellus, according to the Marauders—on the train.

James was keeping close to Harry. Everyone could tell something was bothering him, though not Harry, who though he had a suspicion, he still wasn't sure. After breakfast was over James grabbed Harry's hand.

"I'm going to show you something," he told Harry. "No peaking," he added teasingly, covering Harry's eyes with his hands. He snapped his fingers and Noddy appeared and apparated them out to courtyard, where he uncovered Harry's eyes.

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Merlin!" he yelped, looking at what was in front of him.

They were standing in front of a castle that was larger then Hogwarts. It had ten towers, four large ones at the corners and two smaller ones in between each large one and spires rising all around. It rose seven stories tall, taking up over nine acres of land. The windows glittered with light against the gray stone. It was accented with gold, making it seem even more fairytale than Hogwarts.

It was built on a grassy hill, and about a mile down led into a forest that spread as far as Harry could see. In fact, you couldn't see anymore than that other than mountains rising in the background.

There some sort of magical lake that was as big as a bay and dotted with islands that held various houses. There was a full-sized Quidditch pitch also, with full stands decorated in reed and gold.

Harry gazed at the sight in front of him, looking up to the castle. There were gray marble stairs leading up to double doors. Above the double doors was a shield, red and gold with a red 'P' outlined in gold set against it, with two crossed swords behind the 'P'. Two griffins were profile, facing the 'P' with writhing, poisonous red serpents in their mouths. The banner underneath read: Anguis in lacum leonum.

"What—what is this?" Harry asked, stupefied.

"Welcome to Potter Castle," James grinned. Then he added in a soft voice, "Welcome home, fawn."

Harry was about to ask why he was never told any of this, but James put a finger to his lips, "We'll tell when we get to the study, but right now, I have to tell you about the Potters."

Harry nodded wanting to learn why there was castle belonging to his family.

James sat down on the lowest step and patted the seat next to him. Harry sat down obligingly, and James started,

"The first Potter ever was named the son of Ignotus Peverell. His name was Ivor. Ivor Potter. Ivor was a warrior, and conquered a lot of land. He was a feared warrior, both magical and Muggle, but a good and noble man with the right ideals and values. Everyone thought Ivor conquered for himself and his own gain, but he held the belief that unified kingdom is better than a separate ones constantly fighting—that we would be able to combat enemies and care for each other.

"Ivor owned much land in Scotland. He gave the land to the Founders to build Hogwarts on, favoring their idea of uniting young witches and wizards and building a strong community.

"Ivor was friends with Founders for many years, but was more than disappointed and disapproving when Slytherin left the school. But nevertheless, he remained friends with them, especially Godric Gryffindor.

"He married Glory Gryffindor, Godric's only daughter. Glory was a redhead," James smiled, "Anyway, they had three sons. Each son had unruly, messy black hair, bad eyesight, and thing for redheads. Every Potter has married a redhead since then.

"Glory and Ivor taught the values of nobility, bravery, courage, and most of all, cunning."

"Cunning?" Harry asked, surprised, "Isn't that a Slytherin trait?"

James smiled at his son, "No, it's a Potter trait. The House of Potter is not light family, like everyone thinks. We are a gray family."

"A gray family?" Harry was even more perplexed by this.

"Tell, what is the difference between the light and dark arts? Can't a wingardium leviosa be used to throw someone off a cliff? Can't a reducto be used to kill someone? Can't avada kedavra be used to give someone a painless death? Can't an imperio be used to stop someone from committing suicide?"

Harry felt his whole world, everything he built it on, come crashing down. Hadn't Dumbledore told him there was a definite line between evil and good? Harry was starting to get angry with the old man. What else hadn't he told Harry?

"So it's not defined," Harry marveled out simple everything was. "It's a tool, and it all depends on the user."

James beamed. "Exactly. Potters are warriors. Nothing more, nothing less. We fight however we want to, be it through words or swords or electoral votes. We fight for the good of our family, but we do it our way. We use Dark Arts and Light Arts and Necromancy and Blood Rituals and Warding and Transfiguration—especially that. Godric Gryffindor was the first animagus and every Potter—since his line runs through ours—has been one since, as a natural animagus. We fight for the good of our family. We are the only line to carry Godric Gryffindor's blood, all of his sons' lines died out years ago. We fight through any means, any ways, and for our family. We never let anyone know of our true power and potential, we always keep it hidden from enemies and anyone. We never let anyone know how or what we are fighting until we have already won. Those are the Three Values of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter: Love your family, kill your enemies, and keep everyone at unawares."

Harry was dumbstruck and dumbfounded. Love your family, kill your enemies, and keep everyone at unawares, chanted over and over again in his head. Those were his three values as a Potter and as a warrior. How many times had he been thrust into situations he didn't want or need? We fight for the good of our family, James' voice echoed in his head. Harry knew what he had to do. He had to fight Voldemort, but on his own terms. Voldemort had already hurt his family, the people he loved. Love his family. But Harry had to do it on his own terms. Every time Harry had just waited for Voldemort to come and that was what Dumbledore was doing, too. And now that Harry thought about it, how was he going to kill Voldemort or win this war by simply stunning and disarming people? He wasn't going to be able to. Harry had a feeling that he was a major player in this war and he believed he was either going to have to kill Voldemort and his allies or die trying. He was going to have to kill his enemies. He certainly needed everyone unaware, especially Voldemort, but he had a strange feeling that he needed Dumbledore unaware, too, since he certainly wouldn't approve of this, but Harry also thought that Dumbledore might try and stop him and he needed to keep everyone at unawares.

"I understand," he said finally. He knew his father knew what he meant. He meant Harry understood what it meant to be a Potter.

"You are the Heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter, Gryffindor, and Peverell. Of course you understand."

They sat in silence while Harry processed everything. Finally he said, "What do you mean 'heir'?"

James ran a hand through his hair, "Do you know your full name?"

Harry looked at James as though he was crazy. "Um, yes."

"What is it?"

Harry decided to humor him and said, "Harry James Potter."

"No."

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed. "What do you mean that's not my full name?"

"Calm down, fawn," James placated. "It is a tradition in the House of Potter for first name to be long so you have a nickname, then your middle names be after your father, grandfather, grear-grandfather and your mother's maiden name. I am Lord Jameson Charlus Andrew Richard Black Peverell-Gryffindor-Potter."

Harry was trying to count all of the names on his fingers. "That's eight names!" he cried.

James grinned mischievously and put an arm around Harry's shoulders. "And you, my son, are Harlow Jameson Charlus Andrew Evans Peverell-Black-Moon-Potter, Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient Houses of Potter, Peverell, Moon, Black, and Gryffindor, scion of the Most Noble and Ancient Houses of Finnigan, Dagworth-Granger, Weasley, and Prewett."

"WHAT!" Harry yelled. "What does that mean?"

"It means you will be heir to five noble houses and will be Lord when the Head of House dies and hold seats for four more houses, holding nine seats on the Wizengamot." James said solemnly.

Harry mulled this over slowly. It was a lot to take in.

"So the Peverell, Gryffindor, and Potter ones are by birthright," Harry said slowly. "And the Finnigan, Dagworth-Granger, Weasley and Prewett are because we are holding them proxy."

"Because?" James prompted.

Dad is testing me, Harry realized. I would've got all of these lessons as a child, but now I need to know them for when I take my place as lord. Surprisingly, this didn't make Harry feel uncomfortable or squeamish at the thought of power and having to do public displays. He felt ready for it, like it was a part of him. It is a part of me, Harry concluded. Power and money are things I was born into, and therefore am ready for. Then it clicked.

"Because of financial problems or inappropriate marriages?" Harry said, gliding past that they married Muggles or Muggle-borns.

"Terrific," James praised.

"Okay, Dad. So I've still got two of nine houses left. I haven't even heard of the Moon family, and though we are members—very barely—of the Black family, Sirius is still around. How did I become heir to those Houses?" Harry wondered. He didn't know Sirius was a Lord. And who was this Moon character?

"The Moon House is another gray family. A very small one, barely able to scrape "the most noble and ancient" status," James explained. "Though not anti-Muggle or Muggle-born they sincerely hate what they call "half-breeds". Centaurs, merpeople, giants, and…werewolves."

Werewolves? Surely not Remus! Harry thought.

"Remus John Lupin was born Romulus Jacob Moon, heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Moon," James said gravely. "His father was very outspoken against werewolves, which attracted the attention of Fenrir Greyback, a feral werewolf.

"Remus was five and walking at the edge of the woods during a full moon when he attacked," James whispered. "When his father and mother found out what happened, they kicked him out because of what he was. He went to go live with his Squib aunt and never saw his family again. They couldn't disown Remus because he was their only heir, but he is never able to attend the Wizengamot because of what he is."

"Those monsters," Harry ground out. "How dare they!"

"Exactly," James growled. "Anyway, when you were born, Remus made you his heir. So did Sirius. When Sirius ran away, his family couldn't actually disown him because he was their heir. Because you are Sirius' godson and also the Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Sirius blood and magically adopted you, making it legal for him to come and take away from anywhere, despite Ministry guidelines. Remus couldn't do it because he's a werewolf so he only magically adopted you. They're like…crazy uncles, would be the best way to say it, I think. But, since you are the heir and a member of the house, you have to follow the naming guidelines. So not only are you Harlow Jameson Charlus Andrew Evans Peverell-Black-Moon-Gryffindor-Potter, you are also Aries Sirius Black, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black and Silvius Asher Moon, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Moon."

Harry was touched that Sirius and Remus cared so much about him they would make him their heir. Though Harry was a bit disconcerted that he was a total of three different people.

Harry looked his father straight in the eyes and said, "The day just got weirder."

James nodded. "Indeed, it did. Let's go show you the castle, shall we? I need to show you your room."

The two Peverell-Gryffindor-Potters stood up and walked into the entrance hall of the castle.

A/N: Please tell me if anything doesn't make sense and I'll try to clarify for you! This chapter was a really detailed one and I'm not sure if I got the messages across.

Up Next: Voldemort wears some questionable clothing and we explore the castle.