May 1st, 1980

"Magic is blood. Blood is life. Life is family. These words we hold true."

Daedric Greengrass listened to his brother's words. The same words he heard his father speak his entire life. Words that had passed down through the family for centuries since magic first touched their line over a millenia ago.

The Greengrass family were the lords of Appleby, a small town in northern England nestled against the river Eden. The town was the fourth largest wizarding settlement in England housing over a thousand magical families.

At the centre of the town was a small Norman castle and a large manor house that was the ancestral home to the Greengrass family. Out back on the grounds between the manor and the river almost the entire village had gathered for the Beltane festivities. They all listened as his elder brother spoke.

Dedalias was tall with broad shoulders. His hair was the color of straw, it was tied into a tight braid hanging half down his back. His face was covered with a thick beard almost a foot in length that was always kept neat. His blue eyes had a way of drawing everyone in the crowd to feel that he was looking at them. He was a fitting heir to the Earl of Appleby.

Daedric could not help but compare himself to his brother. He was shorter, less built, preferring books over quidditch and swordplay. His hair was cut short and face clean shaven looking more Roman opposed to Nordic like his brother. Though they shared the same eye color there was something less captivating about Daedric's eyes.

At the centre of the gathering was a giant wooden motif of a stag, a symbol of the horned god. Every year they would light the stag on fire making a bonfire in honour of Beltane. Traditionally the torch was always lit by a child chosen by their family. This year it would be Dedalias's son Dorian lighting the bonfire for the first time.

Dorian had just turned seven back in November. He took more after his mother with curly brown hair and brown eyes. His scrawny legs shaking with nerves as waited for his father to light his torch so he could toss it on the wooden effigy. Daedric couldn't help but smile remembering being in his nephew's shoes all those years ago.

His thoughts immediately went to his wife who was currently upstairs in the manor going through the early stages of labour. She was in tremendous pain and the child was stubbornly refusing to come out. Once his obligations with the festivities were over he would return to her side. If he were to miss the birth of his first born he would not forgive himself nor would his wife for that matter.

Dedalias finished his speech and waved his wand, lighting the torch in Dorian's hands. His little nephew's face lit up in a grin before taking three steps forward, winding his arm back, and tossing the torch onto the pile of wood beneath the stag.

Daedric closed his eyes and in his mind he was seven years in the future with his daughter tossing the torch. He opened eyes with a smile on his face as the fire reached the tinder and kindling, sparking the whole structure to quickly come a flame. The horned god burning for his beloved wife Beltane once more.

The musicians began playing their fiddles and their flutes as couples took to dancing. Maidens tied ribbons to the trunk of the great elm with crowns of prairie flowers adorned their heads as they danced around the tree. The young single men watched the ladies as they daydreamed about which one may one day be their wives. The bravest of them approached with a necklace of braided barley to trade for a dance.

Magic felt almost dense in the air leaving goosebumps on Daedric's skin. The sun would soon set and the fairies and nymphs would come out of the forest to join in the merriment. Beneath the dirt even the gnomes held a small parade in honor of Beltane. The sacred days were special to all magical creatures and were the few times harmony seemed to exist in the world.

Duties done he could now return to his wife. Daedric waved to his brother and nephew who were laughing as they walked between the crowd. Quickly walking as fast as could without causing a scene he returned to the manor.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor of the east wing, and made his way down the long hall. On the outside of the door hung a laurel of winter daphne, his mothers favourite flower. It was a way to ward the room from the fae and unwanted magic prevalent on Sacred days. He was pleased to see the flowers were a very vibrant shade of blue.

Entering the room his eyes quickly landed on his wife. She was glistening with sweat, her golden hair matted and sticking to her skin. Her pupils were so dilated he could not see the honey brown of her iris. The swell of her stomach was as large as he had ever seen it. Even still she was the most beautiful witch he had ever laid eyes on.

Seraphine did not acknowledge him when he entered the room far to focused on her breathing but she held out her hand for him to take. Without hesitation he took it before sitting down on the chair beside the bed. With his free hand he brushed the hair off her forehead.

Seraphine had been born a Selwyn, the youngest of four, two brothers and a sister. Daedric had graduated the year she started Hogwarts and the two would not meet until two years after she had graduated when she returned from America.

Their marriage had been arranged by their fathers, and took place only a few short months of knowing one another. They were both from old families so it was what was expected of them. Daedric had been smitten at first sight of his wife, she however did not begin to return his affection until a month after they had wed.

Daedric was a spare; he existed only in case the worst were to happen to his elder brother Dedalias. Seraphine was the result of a forgotten potion and some sloppy charm work. They were a good match in that sense with the only expectations being that they did not embarrass the family.

"It's quite adorable to see you so dutiful to your wife, little brother." He recognized the voice instantly and turned to see his older sister sitting in a rocking chair in the far corner of the room. She had a spool of yarn at her feet, two wooden sticks in her hands knitting a way at something.

"Dorothea, I'm sorry I didn't see you sitting there. How have you been? When did you get in?" The words were rushed and came out in quick succession. He was thrown off by her sudden appearance as rushed to find some semblance of manners.

Dorothea was the first born of the three children, eleven years his senior she was already in her forties. Her light brown hair was tied tight in a low ponytail. She wore a sky blue dress with a yellow apron around the skirt. Her long fingers deftly knitted what was beginning to look like a blanket. Her thin lips formed a smile that reached her greyish blue eyes.

"Fret not little brother, your attention was on your wife where it should be." She chuckled when he glared at her; he hated being called little brother. "To answer your questions. I got in early this afternoon and figured I'd keep your wife company. Also I am doing exceptionally well. Thank you for asking."

He had not seen Dorothea since his wedding. He was almost certain she was only here now because their father was on the continent attending meetings with the ICW. While not formally kicked out of the family she was not welcome at home very often since she refused to remarry after her first husband had passed away tragically young. She was now living in Belgium where she studies whatever strikes her fancy at any particular moment.

"Dorothea has been a great comfort while you were gone. She was telling me how she is currently researching the use of runes in healing. If she has any success it could be quite groundbreaking." It was a bit odd hearing Seraphine speak kindly of his sister. Unwed women were often treated with disdain and distrust in pureblood society. Of course his wife never said anything unkind out loud but often had a sour face when his sister was discussed. He nodded a thanks to his sister, who gave him a smile in return.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to Seraphine as she slowly breathed in and out. Occasionally she would grunt when hit with a hand would tighten around his own and he would reassure with a gentle squeeze.

Eventually Bertie, a small house elf who also acted as the midwife and wetnurse for the Greengrass family appeared. She was dressed in a forest green tunic with a golden apple tree emblazoned on the front. At nearing a century the elf's large ears drooped, and her skin was beginning to look like leather. The wide grin on her face and softness in big round eyes put him at ease. "The little missus is about to arrive, prepare yourselves."

Seraphine began to panic. "I'm not ready for this." She pleaded with him in tears. It was uncomforting to see his strong wife in such a state but he was determined to keep steady for her.

Soothingly he responded. "You are more than ready for this darling and there's no one I trust more to bring our child into this world than you."

His words had some effect as she nodded, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Remembering something he read about childbirth he decided to share it. "Don't be alarmed if you soil the linnings, it's very common for the bowels to evacuate during the stress of childbirth."

His wife shot him a nasty glare, Bertie let out a scolding tsk sound and his sister snorted as she held back a laugh. Sharing unsolicited facts was a bad habit he picked up during his time in Ravenclaw house. He made the decision to just hold his wife's hand and offer his silent support from that point on.

As the lost ray of sun slipped from the sky his daughter entered the world. She was so very small, just a hand and a half long. Small tufts of blond hair sat atop her head, her eyes were the bluest he had ever seen in his entire life. They reminded him of the flowers hanging on the door. She was every bit as beautiful as her mother. Two things became clear to Daedric the moment he held his daughter in his arms the first. She was perfect and he would do anything to protect her.

He smiled at his wife who seemed to be fighting off exhaustion after eighteen hours of labour. "Thank you darling, you did splendidly." As the words left his mouth he was word he came off a tad condescending. His wife just closed her eyes and smiled as she rested her head against his shoulder.

A little more than a whisper he heard his sister's voice. "You'll make a great father Daedric, my niece is very lucky."

It was odd to hear his sister call him by his actual name and not little brother. Maybe with a child in his arms she could no longer deny he was a grown man.

"What will we call her? Whose name have you chosen to borrow?"

It was custom amongst purebloods to honor a relative with the first name given to a child by borrowing their name. The eldest son traditionally borrowed his father's name but there were no rules for the eldest daughter. Still he winced thinking about the name they had chosen to borrow for his daughter.

"Queenie. It is the name of her aunt on her mothers side who was very kind to Seraphine growing up. She even lived with her a short while after Hogwarts."

Dorothea eyebrows shot up but she made no comment to Daedric's relief. He knew it was a silly name and he hoped his daughter understood when she was older that it was her mother's choice and not his own.

July 19th, 1980

"So until he's three we can only call him James?" Lily was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, her fingers running through her long rich red hair. He could see the nervousness in her green eyes. Instinctively his eyes shifted to the swell of her stomach where she was growing their child.

"Yes, the eldest son always borrows his father's name." James couldn't stop the smile that appeared on his face. Thinking of the child that would soon be born, who would borrow his name like he borrowed his father's name when he was born. Through blood we are eternal. The words he had heard his entire life ran through his head.

"Even though we already picked out his own name?" They had discussed naming the child after their grandfathers. James' had been named Henry, Lily's had been named Harold so they settled on Harry. His uncle would hate the name but that just made it better for James.

"Name's are important with magic they hold power in them. If we name our child before we know who he is he may struggle connecting with his magic." Lily struggled with the concept that they could not share the name Harry until his third birthday. The parts of magic which could not properly be explained always stimied her. It's why in school she had struggled with transfiguration and conjuration.

"And he can't have a family name until he is old enough to understand the responsibility of family." She finished with the mirror and turned towards him. It frustrated him how beautiful she was, especially when she seemed hell bent on starting the same fight for the eleventh time.

He bit his tongue. "Sort of. He can use the Potter name; he just can't represent the family formally until he takes his vows when he's seven."

"Yes, the vows to the family that disinherited you because you married me." She was bending the truth. He had not been disinherited; he had surrendered his position as heir to the family. Which was not so much decided by his family but by archaic laws of the wizards council.

"That's my uncle Charlus, he's head of the family and he's married to Sirius's aunt. My parents love you. They even bought us this house." He felt a bit guilty blaming Charlus and Dorea who were actually fairly nice if not just a little overly rigid. His parents technically didn't buy their house either. The house had been gifted to the first Potter when he married his wife nearly eight hundred years ago. It was a simple two bedroom cottage in the small hamlet of Godric's Hollow.

"I just don't want our son to be hurt. I know what it's like to want to be rejected by someone who's meant to love you unconditionally." There was a eureka moment in James' head. This was about the problems with her own family.

Lily Evans was the youngest daughter of Paul Evans and Delilah Grunnings. Rich muggles who ran a lucrative construction firm they inherited from lily's grandfather Harold Grunnings passed away. They weren't excepting of her being a witch and she became ostracized by her own family. She had to use her own money inherited from grandfather to pay for Hogwarts. She hadn't spoken to her parents since she turned sixteen and only spoke in letters to her older sister Petunia.

"Nothing's set in stone Lil's. We'll protect our son, love him completely and teach him as much as we can. Then when he's old enough he can decide if he wants to deal with all that crap that is my family. Either way he'll have us, so he'll be fine." He grabbed his wife's hand and pulled her in close. Instantly she wrapped her arms around him tightly and buried her face against his chest. He could feel the warmth of tears, the fast rise and fall of her chest. He brought his lips to the crown of her head and gently stroked her back.

After several minutes Lily calmed down and they sat down at the edge of their bed. She fiddled with her hands, looking down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes in case she broke down in tears again. "Petunia wrote to me today." She paused for a minute before taking a deep breath. "She gave birth last week to her son. They named him Dudley. She has decided it was best we no longer speak and her son never learns of me. It would be too difficult to explain my condition so the family has agreed to forget I exist. It's easier that way I suppose."

James was furious. The audacity of those muggles to think themselves above his wife. Lily Evans was fierce, strong, determined and an unstoppable force of nature. He watched her take abuse and discrimination for seven years at Hogwarts for being born muggleborn and still rise above it to become the top student in the school. The idea that these unmiraculous shrills could reject his wife. To think they are better than her. It made his skin crawl.

It broke his heart. How hard it must be for her. Rejected by her blood, her family for something she could not control. For being born a witch. Only to come to a world that did not want her, did not accept her, that despised her for something she could not control. Having muggles for parents.

"Sod them all Lil's, we don't need 'em." He got off the bed and knelt down in front of her. He gently grabbed her chin turning her face towards his own so their eyes met. "We're family now. Me, you..." He placed his hand on her stomach. "And Harry."

She smiled at him, her eyes sparking. "Perhaps a few more, down the road."

James grinned. "Just a half dozen should do, so we can have a proper quidditch team."

That earned him a playful slap on the shoulder and a bigger smile on Lily's face. She would be fine as long as she had her family.

Author Notes

The chapter 1 survey is available on . This is one of the most important surveys as you can vote on what kind of personalities you want for Harry and Daphne, who's the main villain and some general plot points that will affect the whole entire story.I wanted to make a world very different from canon but still very familiar. The time line is different then canon though most characters have the same birthday they do in canon. Voldemort did not start attacking out the open until Halloween 1980, the Prologue takes place before this time. Chapter one will start Halloween 1983 when the Potter family is attacked and covers several years. How these early years turn out is up to you by voting at or leaving your ideas in the comments.