Harry Potter 1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the works that have inspired this story.

AN: This is a new story idea that's been bugging me for a while. I'm hoping to complete my other one first before I try to concentrate on this.

**From the pages of "Through Our Eyes - The Second Blood War: A Biography by Harry J. Potter"**

It has been many decades since the fall of the dark lord Voldemort. In these past scores, Magical Briton has healed many of the wounds that came from and caused the whole bloody mess. It's something that's been long overdue but I suppose, as my mother use to tell me, that nothing worth having ever comes easy.

It's weird when you think about it. How hate that was started in the 1920's would eventually culminate and be decided by one generation of witches and wizards who fell on both sides of the conflict. It reminds me of the quote by Shakespear in Twelfth Night: "Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." I can certainly say that none of us felt we were born great, nor did any of us aspire to achieve it and while some could argue that greatness was thrust upon us, at the time we just wanted to survive.

I've thought, from time to time, about how despite my family's simple goals of having food in your stomach, a roof over your head, and having someone to share your dreams with still leave us caught in the middle of some controversy or other. From salacious behavior with a lords wife in a chicken coop (a complete misunderstanding according to his journals though he doesn't quite explain how her bodice came to be undone nor what the butter churner was for) to defeating a 1,000 year old revived pharaoh and his army of inferi after what could only be described as a dare gone wrong.

My grandfather, rest his soul, used to say that the Chinese curse "May you live in interesting times" was originally directed at our family after an ancestor helped bring down some dark wizard or other during Roman times. While my family records have nothing that actually records this happening, it would certainly explain a lot.

I can only guess that, were it not for the prophecy, my brother and I still would have somehow found our way in the middle of things. It's just not in our nature to let things stand when they are wrong. Never, in the magical history of the world, have I seen circumstances where one generation would spend their formative years between two wars. Being shaped, molded, and moved around like little chess pieces trying to tip the scales in favor of the light or dark.

After the muggle 'Great War' the yanks have what they call the greatest generation. While certainly not to scale of what the muggles went through I can't help but draw comparison. There is one aspect that is different from what the muggles went through. That is that our parents failed us. It has taken some time to reconcile that fact. In fact, if not for my mother begging for forgiveness after the final battle, one delirious night, I never would have thought of it.

Confused? So was I until the this book came about and I started to bring see things for myself from an outside perspective. You see, the second Blood War truly felt like and extension of the first. In fact, it even had many of the same players. My generation's parents had thirteen years to eradicate the philosophies that caused the first war and instead put their heads in the sands and carried on like everything was alright. Instead of fixing things or setting up society to do better they carried on like normal. There is a quote that states "The definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and expecting a different result." Well…no one has ever claimed that wizards are sane; in fact, there's more than ample evidence to the contrary.

In hindsight, we really should have known that we Potter's were going to end up in the thick of things just by how the first war 'paused'. People often ask why there were not more preparations for done if we knew that things would start up again. To answer that, I have to ask, who here is comfortable enough to train a child for war?

While my mum may have fallen for the wizarding trap of becoming illogical from time to time she really did instill my brother and I with the proper work ethics to prepare ourselves when the time was right. Between her and our two crazy uncles, growing up was always a learning experience.

At this point, you may be wondering what's the bloody point of all this? Well, to be totally honest…I don't know. Maybe I just want to give you a brief look into the circumstances that shaped us. They say steel sharpens steel, necessity is the mother of all inventions, and desperation can lead to some crazy decisions. Well, we needed to stay alive and finding out that some psycho dark lord is intent on killing you will make you pretty desperate and that would help you think of creative ways to stay alive.

It started as a personal project. A way to heal. For years I had struggled with bouts of depression, flashbacks, and nightmares. They would go away for a while with the love and support of family but they would always come back. One day, I started to read over my old correspondences and journal entries. At first it was for amusement, just to see a time when I could have been considered innocent.

It was weird reading about yourself after so many years. You'd be amazed and the memories and feelings that stir up when you are the one reminding yourself what happened, from your perspective of course. Sometimes I would cry uncontrollably due to some minor event. Others I'd rage at some long forgotten slight or laugh hysterically at a recounted incident that wasn't so funny at the time.

I started to filter my writings to only those that I felt built up to and including the war. I'm not sure what I was looking for but I must have found it as I had not had a relapse since shortly after I completed my second read through. Maybe it was seeing how an eleven year old child could grow up to accomplish what he did.

After learning about what I did, family and friends gave me their own documents (or what remained of them in some cases) to compile together. It is certainly interesting how we all saw and reacted to the same events.

For many years, there was only one document kept by myself. From time to time one would read it when they came over for a visit. Now, after reading about so many of our 'heroic' deeds we've reached a consensus to release it to the public. In the end, this is just a means to set some matters straight.

We were not larger than life heroes who laughed in the face of death. We were brothers, friends, lovers, parents, and children who all felt those things everyone feels when growing up. We have all made, and paid for our mistakes.

Many of us have already withdrawn or will soon from public life. All I can ask is please; do not judge us too harshly. Sometimes we were children trying to make impossible decisions or caught in the middle of a situation that had no right answer.

So to start with, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Harry James Potter, I am a brother, a son, a husband, a father, an archaeologist, a professor, a hero, and last but not least, a squib. This is our story.

**AN:** Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 1

**Authors**** Note:** I write for my own pleasure. I do not own the referenced works or I wouldn't be renting right now. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

The following excerpts are from the diary of Lily Potter: 31 January 1982

It's been 3 months since the attack by Voldemort and it still feels surreal. I still expect to see him when I enter a room and it's heartbreaking when I realize why he's not and that he never will be again. This journal is supposed to help. One of the healers at St. Mungos, a muggleborn, referred me to a family friend who specialized in grief counseling. I'm not sure how much it will help but I need to be here for Harry and Jason.

He recommended I narrate the events as it will help with the healing process as he calls it. So much happened leading up to and after the attack that I'm not sure where to start. My mum would say 'at the beginning is usually a good idea' so I suppose I'll start there.

I had just learned that I was pregnant when James and I had decided that it would be best if I withdrew from public life. We already had several encounters with Voldemort, the thought fighting off Death Eaters while trying to protect our unborn children was what tipped the scales away from my arguments. I didn't like it but I agreed it was for the best.

At first I was being driven spare by the isolation. James tried to help but nothing quite beats being able to just walk down a downtown park enjoying the sights and sounds. I busied myself by researching ward schemes and making potions for those who were on the front lines. I must say that I was tempted on entering healer training with how proficient I was becoming tending to James and our friends.

Of course nothing lasts forever but when the news finally broke the children were already 14 months. I was actually quite impressed that we had kept things from the public for so long. Unfortunately that's when things started to go pear shaped.

Albus arrived and told us about Voldemort specifically targeting our children due to a prophecy. He didn't wish to tell us the prophecy as it may not have even applied to our children but they met certain criteria so he felt it best to take precautions. I've never seen James so mad before. Not knowing what the prophecy said was rankling James and I must say that I quite agreed with him.

We had decided on using the Fidelius Charm and while I'm sure Albus meant well by offering himself as secret keeper we felt that he had too many secrets and told him that we'd make other arrangements. In the end, that may have been the worse decision we ever made.

After some discussions we had decided to let Peter be the secret keeper. He had been somewhat distant the last few months but claimed it was due to being nervous around the babies. When we made our proposal to him there was an odd gleam in his eyes that, at the time, I mistook for pride in our faith in him.

We thought we were safe. Several weeks had gone by and without any further word on threats we felt that things could quietly fall into a routine. The children helped alleviate the stress of everything. They hadn't a care in the world so long as their uncles 'Pafoo' and 'Mooy' showed up to make funny faces with them.

Then that night arrived. I (unintelligible writing and tear stains mark the page)

17 February 1982

This is harder than I thought. I tried several times to finish but each time I just couldn't bring myself to do it without bawling my eyes out. Even now I feel tears welling up. It's just so (more scribbles and words marked through)

No! I will do this! As Morgana as my witness I will do this!

It was Halloween. James had taken to playing with the boys to help them get tuckered out enough to sleep. We found that when we didn't they would stay up to all hours babbling to each other about whatever one year olds babble to each other about.

The front door blew open and when I managed to get my wits about me I screamed for James to grab the boys and run. I can only guess that there was a ward in place to keep him from escaping. We had made a pact that should the worse come to, the one closest to the children would grab them and run. No hesitation, no questions asked. It was hard getting him to fully agree, I think he half believed that he would always be able to save everyone.

I pulled my wand and started to throw every curse and hex that I knew of at Voldemort. He told me that while he complimented my spirit I was simply no match for him. The next thing I remember is Sirius waking me up. I rushed to the boys room and that image will be burned into my memory until I die.

There were robes on the ground, smoldering from some unknown source. In their crib were Harry and Jason and in front of them on the floor was the crumpled form of my husband. At first glance I thought that my family was dead, taken from me by some maniacal madman. I couldn't bear the weight of what I was feeling and simply collapsed in my grief, seemingly inconsolable.

Thankfully one of us managed to keep their wits about them. Sirius stepped into the room and checked on the occupants. After a few moments by James' body he checked on my boys. He got my attention with a shout and brought my children to me. Merlin be praised they were alive.

I swear I'd never felt so confused in my life. Joy that my children were alive, pain that my husband was gone, relief that my worst fears had not come true, anguish that my boys would never no their father. It was all I could do to just hold them and cry. I'm not sure how long I was there for. Sirius had wrapped his arms around the three of us in an attempt to provide some form of comfort. If not for that I probably would have just fallen apart.

After some time my mind had started functioning again. James and I had made preparations. The family grimoires, personal journals, and library were stored in a traveling trunk in the hall closet. James had kept it in the boys' room when we originally were going to make it into a study. It probably would have stayed there had I not hounded him into making extra room when we realized we were having twins. Looking at the gaping hole where it used to stand I'm glad it was moved. So much priceless knowledge and family history would have been lost.

The trunk had everything we needed for a quick getaway. It stored more than ample emergency funds to last us a year without going to Gringotts, both wizarding and muggle money. We also had a quick store of potions ingredients, not enough for an apothecary but more than enough to brew some potions to counter whatever ailed us until we could settle in and resupply. Extra clothes, food, and even a deluxe wizarding tent were stored inside, all we had to do was grab it and we could flee. As much as it pained me to leave my husband's body, we couldn't afford to wait in case more Death Eaters arrived. I would have to come back later with aurors.

We had run into Hagrid on our way out. Bless his gentle heart but I wanted to tear him limb from limb when he mentioned taking my children back to Albus. While he may not seem like the brightest person, even he could tell that he had overstepped his bounds and quickly gave up on his task. Sirius had 'tried to make me see reason', as he put it, and tried to convince me to go with Hagrid anyway so he could pursuit Peter. I was having none of that. While it was perhaps a louder conversation than I would have preferred, on my part anyway, they quickly agreed that it would be best if Sirius took me and the children someplace safe.

We left on Sirius' motorcycle. I was surprised that the boys had stayed asleep the entire time. I was starting to grow concerned. It wouldn't be for several months that I would learn what the attack had cost Harry.

1 March, 1982

They finally caught Peter a week ago. He was posing as a pet with a wizarding family. It was by chance that Remus had noticed him as the family was shopping. They had seen each other's animagus forms so much that they could easily pick each other out from a distance, never mind from a few yards. After a brief scuffle, some screaming about a rabid werewolf, and a somewhat hilarious chase, from the description if it weren't for such an important reason, Peter was caught.

I was hoping that they would have just tossed him through the veil after they milked him for every piece of information he had. However, nobody said that Peter did not have a strong sense of self-preservation. He proved he was a rat through and through while he gave up some of his compatriots.

Yaxley and Macnair were given up for life imprisonment in Azkaban. Knowing that Peter was once one of our closest friends makes his betrayal hurt even more, it's also what makes me hope that he wishes for death every single moment that he's in there.

13 July, 1982

It's been several months after the fall of Voldemort. The British wizarding world looks to be on its way to recovery. To my dismay there are several suspected Death Eaters that have since gotten away scot free. There is suspicion that their cases were influenced with various 'donations' but nothing that can be proven.

Sirius has been very quiet since the rulings. I have to admit that seeing him so serious has me a little worried. While his natural exuberance has been tempered these past months, seeing him like this is something I've never seen before.

Remus and Sirius have been godsends since November. I hope that he is not thinking of doing anything foolish. I don't think I'd be able to handle losing anyone else so soon after James.

23 August, 1982

Albus is making me very uncomfortable. He's been requesting a visit to our new home since the end of the last term. For security reasons only Sirius, Remus, and I know of its location. Post owls are redirected to Gringotts where Remus, Sirius, or I will check on it at least every other day. I even go so far as to do our shopping in muggle London and apparate back. I dare not even write our location down in here just in case I should lose it.

Sirius is worried that I'll turn into another Moody. While I'm inclined to feel insulted I see his point. I don't want my children growing up completely isolated from their peers. I told them that we'll talk about it some more in the next few months. This whole children-who-lived nonsense the Prophet is spewing is finally starting to die down. That is not an environment that I want my children growing up in.

1 October, 1982

Albus finally showed his hand. He managed to catch up to me earlier in the week while in Daigon Alley. When I told him we could talk in the Leakey Cauldron he finally admitted that it was Jason he was hoping to see. It's all started to make sense. The mentioned prophecy, the attack on the Longbottoms, this interest in Jason, Albus knows something and he's not sharing. Worse yet, he's been spying on us.

It's his interest in Jason that's putting all the pieces together for me. I haven't written it down yet as it makes it all the more real but here it goes.

Harry is a squib.

I know Harry was displaying some accidental magic before the attack but since then…nothing. He's still a lovely little boy that any mother would love but no incidents since then. Sirius arranged for a covert check up at St Mungos last week. He brought Andromeda over shortly after the attack and gave the initial diagnosis. Both of the boys magical cores were depleted but with some rest they should have been restored.

It's been almost a year and still nothing from Harry while Jason has been known to summon his favorite plushy when he's upset. The healer confirmed that Harry's core hasn't recovered since that night. We don't know why. The healer was also getting some unusual readings from his scar and Jason's scar. Andromeda thought it was residue from whatever Voldemort was casting that night and would most likely clear as they boys cores recharged.

That is obviously not the case. The fact that Dumbledore is specifically interested in Jason and not Harry tells me he knows that Harry is a squib now. I'll have to be more careful from here on out. Remus and Sirius have a few contacts in the Ministry from our Hogwarts days. I think it's time we started digging for some additional information.


End file.
