Author's note:
This story wasn't supposed to be long—it was originally meant to be just a one-shot. But, well… you know how these things go. The plot took on a life of its own, and before I knew it, here we are! I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I did (despite the tears along the way).
Now, let's dive into it!
"You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." - The Dark Knight (2008)
But what if the real tragedy lies not in becoming either, but in the choices that lead you there? This is the story of a boy destined to be a protector, standing by the side of a brother celebrated as a hero—the boy who lived. One choice, one decision, started a chain of fate that pulled him down, deeper and deeper, until he no longer had the power to choose his own path. A single moment spiraled into a fate from which there is no return. And through it all, a family's love remains unwavering, their fight to save their son relentless, even when he may be lost to them. To understand this journey, we must return to the beginning—before the diary was found, and before an innocent boy's life was forever changed by a choice he didn't know would seal his fate.
The roar of the crowd echoed through the crisp autumn air as Jimmy Potter soared through the sky, his scarlet robes billowing behind him like a banner of victory. The Gryffindor Seeker's eyes were locked on the glinting Golden Snitch, his focus unwavering. Below, Harry Potter, his older twin brother, watched with pride and contentment. As a Chaser, Harry had already played his part in securing a substantial lead for Gryffindor, but it was Jimmy who would seal their triumph. The stands erupted as Jimmy's hand closed around the Snitch, and the game was won.
The Gryffindor team descended to the pitch amidst a sea of red and gold, their classmates lifting Jimmy onto their shoulders, chanting his name. Harry joined the celebration, genuinely happy for his brother. As his eyes scanned the cheering crowd, he spotted his parents, Lily and James Potter, standing at the edge of the pitch. Beside them was his little sister, Rose, beaming as she waved excitedly. Harry's heart warmed at the sight. He adored Rose more than anything and loved how she always showed up to cheer for him and Jimmy, even if she didn't fully understand the game.
"Harry! Jimmy!" Rose's high-pitched voice rang out as she ran across the field, her bright smile infectious. Harry knelt down, arms open wide, and caught her in a big hug, lifting her off the ground.
"You saw us, Rosie?" Harry asked, ruffling her hair gently.
"I did! You were so fast! And Jimmy caught the little ball!" she squealed, her excitement bubbling over.
Harry chuckled, "That's right, but did you see my passes? I made sure we scored a lot before Jimmy swooped in!"
Rose nodded enthusiastically, her arms wrapped around Harry's neck. "You're the best, Harry!"
As Harry stood, Jimmy arrived, still being congratulated by teammates but making sure to stop by his family. "Did you see me, Rosie?" he asked, his face flushed with the thrill of victory.
"Of course, I did!" Rose giggled, jumping from Harry's arms to Jimmy's. "You're amazing!"
Lily and James finally reached their children, James laughing as he clapped Jimmy on the back. "You boys were incredible out there! And Rose, you're our good luck charm as always."
Lily bent down to kiss both her boys on the forehead. "I'm so proud of you two," she said softly, her eyes shimmering. Then she looked at Rose, who was still talking Jimmy's ear off. "And you, Rose, you're a great cheerleader."
Remus and Sirius joined the group, adding their voices to the congratulations. While Jimmy was the focus of most of the attention, Harry didn't mind. He and Jimmy had always shared a bond built on mutual support. There was no rivalry, just love between them, and Harry liked things that way. He often felt content to let Jimmy soak up the limelight.
As the family basked in the warmth of their moment, a man moved through the crowd. His cold gaze scanned the group, but he made no effort to speak to the Potters directly. Instead, he subtly circled around them and, with a practiced sleight of hand, slipped a small, nondescript book into Harry's bag. It went completely unnoticed amidst the post-match celebrations.
Later that evening, the Gryffindor common room was alive with joy, the sounds of laughter and cheers echoing through the halls. Harry and Jimmy sat with their housemates, enjoying the post-victory camaraderie. Although Jimmy was at the center of attention, he always made sure to include Harry in their conversations, talking about everything from future matches to possible adventures around Hogwarts.
At one point, Jimmy turned to Harry, his tone more serious. "So, are you thinking of joining any clubs this year, Harry? I heard the Dueling Club is starting up again soon."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it. Might be a good way to sharpen some skills. What about you? Going to stick with just Quidditch?"
"I might try out the Dueling Club too," Jimmy said, leaning back in his chair. "Would be good to know how to defend ourselves properly, right?"
Harry grinned. "Exactly. Can't rely on just flying fast all the time."
Their conversation moved on to lighter topics—jokes about their friends, plans for the next Hogsmeade trip, and even thoughts about their future after Hogwarts. Despite the fame surrounding Jimmy, the connection between the brothers remained solid, and Harry appreciated how they always made space for each other in moments like these.
As the night wore on, the common room slowly quieted down. Harry made his way back to the dormitory, where he began unpacking his bag. As he did, his hand brushed against something unfamiliar. Frowning, he pulled out a small, plain book. The cover was worn and unassuming, the pages blank. There was no indication of who it belonged to or why it had found its way into his bag.
Harry flipped through the empty pages, intrigued but not alarmed. "Weird," he muttered, setting the book aside. He'd investigate it later when there was more time.
Jimmy noticed the book as well and raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Not sure. It was just in my bag," Harry replied, his tone casual. "I'll check it out tomorrow."
Jimmy shrugged. "Alright, just don't let Hermione see it. She'll probably give you a whole lecture about unknown magical objects."
Harry chuckled, knowing his friend's cautious tendencies all too well. The two of them got ready for bed, their conversation drifting to lighter topics—jokes about their friends, plans for the upcoming pranks, and their hopes for the rest of the school year.
Yet, as Harry lay in bed, a faint unease lingered in the back of his mind. It wasn't something he could name, just a quiet, unsettling feeling that something was shifting. His eyes drifted to the book one last time before he turned off the lights, its blank pages almost expectant, as if waiting for something.
Sleep was elusive, broken by restless dreams. He saw Jimmy and Rose laughing, their voices distant, while shadows crept at the edges, unseen but present. When Harry finally awoke, the morning light filtered softly into the room, the strange feeling from the night before still clinging to him.
The book remained on the bedside table, untouched, but somehow, it felt different.