Author's Note:
In this chapter, I chose to portray the Evans family as a pureblood family, contrary to the canon depiction of Lily Evans as a Muggle-born witch. This decision was made to explore the dynamic of Harry Potter being raised in a pureblood environment, adding an additional layer of complexity to his character and the wizarding world.
While this alteration diverges from the original storyline, I believe it opens up interesting possibilities for exploring themes of heritage, identity, and prejudice.
Chapter 1: The Fall of the Potters
The night was unnaturally still, the air heavy with an impending sense of doom that seemed to permeate every corner of Godric's Hollow. Inside a modest home, Lily Evans-Potter sat near her son, while James Potter was keeping watch inside the house.
Downstairs, the front door blasted open with a deafening crash. The Dark Lord had arrived. James Potter's voice echoed through the house, filled with urgency and fear.
"Lily! Take Harry and run! I'll hold him off!" he shouted, his words laced with desperation.
Lily's heart clenched as she heard the love of her life make his last stand. She knew what was coming, but there was no time to grieve. Her focus had to be on Harry. She pointed her wand at the nursery door, sealing it with every protective charm she knew. She turned to her son, her eyes brimming with tears but also with fierce resolve.
"Harry, be strong. Mummy loves you, always remember that," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Downstairs, James faced Voldemort, his wand drawn. The Dark Lord's red eyes locked onto his.
"Stand aside, Potter," Voldemort hissed. "You need not die tonight."
James stood tall, his face set with determination. "You'll have to go through me to get to them," he retorted.
"Foolish bravery," Voldemort sneered. "Last chance, Potter. Move aside."
"Never," James spat, raising his wand. "Lily, run!"
Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he raised his own wand. "So be it," he said coldly.
A jet of red light shot from Voldemort's wand. James deflected it with a flick of his wrist, the spell crashing into the wall behind him. He fired back a Stupefy, but Voldemort deflected it effortlessly.
James dodged another curse, rolling to the side and firing off a volley of hexes in quick succession. Voldemort swatted them away, his movements almost lazy, as if this were mere sport to him. The Dark Lord responded with a Blasting Curse that shattered a nearby table, sending splinters flying.
"Expelliarmus!" James shouted, trying to disarm the Dark Lord. Voldemort sidestepped the spell, his expression one of mocking amusement.
"Is that the best you can do, Potter?" Voldemort taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your efforts are futile."
James gritted his teeth, refusing to let fear overcome him. He fired another hex, then a shield charm, desperately trying to buy time for Lily and Harry. Voldemort countered with a flick of his wand, and the shield shattered.
"You cannot protect them," Voldemort said, his voice now deadly serious. "You will die in vain."
"Protego!" James cast, deflecting another curse, but he knew he was outmatched. Voldemort was toying with him, drawing out the inevitable.
Desperation surged through James. He cast a powerful Reductor Curse aimed at Voldemort's feet, but Voldemort Apparated a few feet to the side, the floor exploding where he had stood.
Voldemort's patience wore thin. With a swift motion, he raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" he hissed.
A flash of green light filled the room. James tried to dodge, but the curse was too fast. It hit him squarely in the chest. He crumpled to the floor, lifeless.
Voldemort ascended the stairs, his steps echoing through the house. The nursery door shattered before him, and he stepped inside. Lily's eyes met his, filled with defiance.
"Ah... Lily Potter, mother of the prophesied one," Voldemort sneered, his face contorted into a look of pure cruelty.
"Don't come near us... Please..." Lily begged him.
"You don't need to be in the way. I have been asked by my follower to spare you," the Dark Lord smirked, "But for that, you'll have to give up your child."
"No... not Harry... not Harry!" Lily begged, tears streaming down her face as she thought about her son. "Kill me, but please... he's innocent."
"Unfortunately, the world we live in isn't made for the innocent. The sooner he gets rid of it, the more beneficial for him," Voldemort said cruelly and flicked his wand out. "Now stand aside."
"No... noo... I won't let you reach him!" Lily defied, "You'll have to go through me!"
"Then so be it," Voldemort pointed his wand at Lily, and the last thing she saw was her son's innocent green eyes looking up at her before she heard the words.
"Avada Kedavra!"
There was a flash of green light, and then the world went silent, the only sound coming from the crib.
Voldemort turned his attention to the crying baby in the crib. He moved closer, his eyes gleaming with malevolent triumph. "Avada Kedavra!" he intoned, his voice filled with cruel satisfaction.
The curse shot from his wand, a bolt of lethal green light heading straight for Harry. But as it touched the child's forehead, something extraordinary happened. The curse seemed to pause, then it rebounded with a force that no one, not even Voldemort, could have anticipated.
The room filled with a blinding, explosive light. Voldemort's eyes widened in shock as the curse was hurled back at him. He felt an intense, searing pain, a sensation he had not experienced in his quest for immortality. His body seemed to disintegrate from within, his essence unravelling as the curse rebounded, shattering his soul.
His physical form was obliterated, leaving behind only a faint wisp of smoke and the echo of his scream. The Dark Lord had been vanquished, his spirit fragmented and cast into the void.
In another part of the country, an enchanted mirror began to glow and vibrate, emitting a sharp, urgent alarm. Sirius Black, who had been dozing in his armchair, sprang to his feet. His heart pounded as he recognized the signal – James and Lily were in danger. He wondered how Pettigrew had leaked their secret to the Dark Lord. He rushed and, without a second thought, grabbed his wand and Disapparated, appearing in front of the ruined house in Godric's Hollow. The sight that met his eyes was one of pure devastation. The front door hung off its hinges, smoke and rubble littered the ground. Inside, he found James lying motionless in the hallway.
"No... James..." Sirius choked, tears blurring his vision. He pushed forward, his fear growing with every step. Reaching the nursery, he found Lily's lifeless body crumpled on the floor and beside it was Harry's crib. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Harry, alive and wailing in his crib, the only sign of the curse, a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead.
Before he could react further, a noise outside drew his attention. He rushed out to see a rat scurrying away, transforming mid-leap into Peter Pettigrew.
"Pettigrew!" Sirius roared, giving chase. The streets blurred as he pursued the traitor who had betrayed his best friends. Cornering Pettigrew in a crowded Muggle street, Sirius raised his wand.
"You're going to pay for what you did, Peter!" Sirius shouted, his voice trembling with rage and loathing.
Pettigrew, eyes wide with fear, screamed, "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?" Before Sirius could react, Pettigrew's wand flicked. An explosion rocked the street, and twelve Muggles fell dead. In the chaos, Pettigrew transformed back into a rat and vanished into the sewers.
Moments later, Aurors apparated to the scene. Sirius stood amidst the destruction, his face of despair.
"Black, drop your wand!" one of the Aurors commanded, advancing cautiously.
"No, you don't understand!" Sirius pleaded, his voice raw. "It was Peter! He's the Secret-Keeper, not me! He betrayed them!"
"Enough!" another Auror snapped, binding Sirius's hands with a flick of his wand. "Save it for the trial at Wizengamot, Black."
As they dragged him away, Sirius's cries echoed through the night. "It wasn't me! It was Pettigrew! You have to believe me!"
Days turned into weeks, and the wizarding world was shocked by the news. Harry Potter was named "The Boy Who Lived" and had vanquished the Dark Lord while being the only survivor of the killing curse, with only a scar to show for it. Meanwhile, Sirius Black was banished to Azkaban, a man broken by grief and injustice.
A special session of the Wizengamot was called to discuss Harry Potter's guardianship. Albus Dumbledore stood before the assembled witches and wizards, his expression grave.
"We are here to determine the guardianship of Harry Potter, Heir Apparent of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell, and the Most Noble and Ancient House of Evans," Dumbledore began. "However, new evidence has come to light regarding Sirius Black, the boy's godfather."
Sirius Black, escorted by two Aurors, entered the chamber. He looked haggard and distraught, dark circles under his eyes, and his usually well-groomed hair was disheveled. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of grief, desperation, and a flicker of hope as he scanned the room, finally resting on Albus Dumbledore.
Gasps and murmurs ripped through the crowd.
Dumbledore questioned, "Do you consent to the use of veritaserum on you, Black?"
Sirius Black responded with a nod. He was then under a dose of veritaserum.
"State your name for the record," Dumbledore intoned.
"Sirius Orion Black," Sirius replied, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his exhaustion.
"Were you the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Dumbledore asked.
"No," Sirius said firmly, his voice growing stronger. "It was Peter Pettigrew. We switched at the last moment to throw off Voldemort."
Gasps of surprise echoed through the chamber. Dumbledore raised a hand for silence.
"Why did you pursue Peter Pettigrew that night?" Dumbledore continued, his gaze piercing.
"Because I realised he had betrayed James and Lily," Sirius answered, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke their names. "I chased him to bring him to justice."
"What happened when you confronted Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked, his tone gentle yet firm.
"He shouted to the crowd, blaming me for the Potters' deaths. Then he blew up the street, killing twelve Muggles, and transformed into a rat to escape," Sirius explained, his voice shaking with emotion. His eyes were wide, pleading with the Wizengamot to believe him.
The Wizengamot members whispered among themselves, the weight of the truth sinking in. Dumbledore turned to the assembled witches and wizards.
"You have heard the testimony under Veritaserum. The evidence is clear. Sirius Black is innocent," Dumbledore declared, his voice resonating through the chamber.
The Chief Warlock stood and pronounced the verdict. "We find Sirius Black innocent of all charges. He shall be released immediately and reinstated as Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, he also must be compensated for his time spent in Azkaban."
As the verdict was announced, Sirius looked relieved, his shoulders sagging with the release of tension. Tears of gratitude filled his eyes as he glanced at Dumbledore, then at the assembled members of the Wizengamot.
Sirius, now free and vindicated, stood before the Wizengamot, his eyes blazing with determination. "I will take my rightful place as Harry Potter's guardian. He will be safe with me."
Dumbledore questioned, "Does anybody object to this decision?"
Only a few members raised their wands, and the decision was ruled in favor of Lord Black. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would be raised by his godfather, Sirius Black.
As the chamber emptied, Sirius approached Dumbledore, his face a mixture of relief and determination. "Thank you, Albus. I owe you everything."
Dumbledore placed a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Just take good care of Harry. He needs you now more than ever."
Sirius nodded, his resolve solidifying. "I promise, I won't let him down."
Members of the Wizengamot filed out, including notable figures such as Lucius Malfoy, who left with a look of disdain, and Augusta Longbottom, who nodded approvingly at Dumbledore's decision. Cyrus Greengrass, Lord of the Greengrass family, lingered a moment longer, giving Sirius a curt nod of acknowledgement.
In the background, whispers filled the chamber. Some were supportive, others sceptical, but one thing was clear: Sirius Black was a free man, and Harry Potter had a guardian who would fight for him with every fibre of his being.
Sirius was led to a nursery, after his release, at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, his heart swelling with a mix of sorrow, nervousness, and hope. He picked up the sleeping Harry, cradling him gently. He looked at Harry's face and saw the obvious resemblance of his face to his father and his mesmerising emerald eyes to his mother.
"I'll protect you, Harry. I promise," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the boy's forehead. Sirius felt a glimmer of the future they would build together – one where Harry would know love, courage, and the strength of his heritage.