Privet Drive; July 31st, 1995:

In the distance of discontented thoughts and swirling consciousness were the shadows of a shattered child. Forever forced to remain silent, pretending his existence was a falsified pledge and within himself the constant sensation that he was forever lost. It was something he likened to wandering aimlessly through a thick maze of emotional distress often flickering with subtle recognitions of sorrow, pain and unrelenting anger. Inside of him though there was an unending attack of anxiety that left his heart beating a rapid tattoo against his chest. His stuttering breaths, now agonizingly rattling against the walls of his lungs, a distraction to the sweat the dripped steadily from his brow and his shivering form.

Harry James Potter always woke up after reliving the rising of the Dark Lord like this. Desperately fighting against the overwhelming push of desperation as he surfaced from the disturbing images, sensations and the incessant call of 'kill the spare'. His fingers, trembling and cold, dug into the ratty sheets of his equally dismal cot he called a bed. At Privet Drive his sheer luck and cursed life did not collide and he was left in a home where he was hurt more than comforted. Internally he sneered at the treatment that his relatives visited upon him every year he came home. And yet even with all his power as a wizard he still felt and was completely helpless. In the dead of night, when darkness crept upon his shivering form, Harry never felt safe despite the stillness of the house and the guaranteed sleeping of his aunt, uncle and cousin.

With a shuddering breath, he clasped his arms around his waist to find some form of self comfort. The pain from his uncle's discipline tirade yesterday had left him wounded and no doubt sporting bruised ribs and a soft hiss of pain echoed through the air. His summer holidays had started off with a frightening collision with actuality, reminding him that he was worthless in this household. A freak that was never allowed to ask questions and never allowed to eat more than the bare minimum. Even though he had suffered a traumatic loss, the warning the Headmaster had given to his relatives to treat him better, did not change his situation at all. No, in fact, it only made it worse.

They still expected him to take on all the chores around the house, do the gardening outside and prepare all of their meals. And his most shameful responsibility was to become the punching bag for his uncle's flying fists and his cousin's cruel disposition towards 'freaks' without a peep of noise. After all these years of their 'gratitude' Harry knew how to keep silent because of overwhelming pain. However, for Harry the word 'freak' irrevocably played a role in the darkest part of his life. Now even the softest whisper of it from anyone could invoke despairing emotions that he struggled to hide from the world. Emotions that only got worse since his fellow Triwizard Tournament competitor died at the hands of his generosity.

It was the soft tap, tapping against his chamber window that drew Harry's attention away from his wandering thoughts. Painfully moving and shivering with fevered aftershocks of his nightmare, Harry crawled from out the sheets and fought off the rush of dizziness that settled across his brow. Stumbling towards the window and struggling with the latch, it was only after several agonizing moments of fiddling that Harry finally managed to slide open the window just enough so that Hedwig and two other unfamiliar owls could come through.

Harry's brow furrowed, in the darkness of the night, even on his birthday, he usually only got two owls at the most. No one really bothered to take note of his birthday, nor cared that he had survived another trying year. It made him wonder why there was three this time. And one owl that was so specifically out of place in his home. Eagle owls only belonged to those who were not only rich but possessed enough will to be able to control them through loyalty alone.

A quick glance at the numbers on the bedside clock let him know it was just past midnight on the 31st of July. He cringed, knowing he would have missed his tradition if he was passed out any longer than seven hours. His left hand automatically clasped his right arm, where the bruises were stark against his pale skin, in an act of automatic defensiveness. He had just turned fifteen and didn't even realize that his holiday was mostly over. He would be going back to Hogwarts soon...

It was slightly disappointing and confusing though as Harry realized this was the first round of letters he had received from his friends since seeing them off at Kings Cross station. With a disappointed sigh, Harry ran his fingers through Hedwig's feathers to calm himself from the rage he felt building within him at the realization. It hurt and the despairing depression that he was feeling...it was more than enough to throw him off kilter when he needed his friends the most. 

"Happy birthday Harry." He whispered to himself, his familiar hooting happily as he carefully untied the two packages she carried before moving on to the other two owls. He offered a sincere apology and a gentle ruffle of feathers to the large brown barn owl and the sleek black eagle owl carrying two letters for him, he wished to offer a treat but there was none. He himself had barely eaten anything since the day before. The punishment for accidentally spilling the soapy water used to wash the windows on his aunt's carpet. He had gotten quite a beating for that one too. 

Within him though, at the arrival of his birthday, there was no sense of elation, no sense of being older. Just an unfathomable darkness resting against his heart that made his breath hitch painfully in his chest. Always one to be careful and treasure every movement of opening presents, he took his time unwrapping the package that came with Hedwig. There was a deep dark cloud of depression hanging over him, an endless shadow following his every move and breath. It was useless to find any happiness within himself this time. He just couldn't find the energy to even offer a wan smile to his familiar.

With a soft hoot and nip to his fingers Hedwig and the other two owls left through the half open window. But not before the black eagle owl settled on his shoulder and tugged affectionately and irritatedly at his black hair.

"Sorry I don't have a treat for you but if you find me at Hogwarts after the term starts, I will give you as many as you want." This owl's trill of acceptance was darker and more throaty sound than Hedwig's but Harry enjoyed the soothing sound all the same. Offering a sad glance as they disappeared back into the night. Absently pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry carefully opened the packages that he knew came from Ron and Hermione, scanning the first letter addressed to him.

~~~

Harry,

I'm sorry that I haven't been in touch with you but mum and dad said that we should keep our letters to you limited. You never know who can find them and learn useful information now that You Know Who is back. We've been staying at the Order Headquarters over the summer. Not that we know what the 'Order' is but it's nice to get away from the Burrow every once in a while you know. It's getting a little cramped here though. Even if the Headquarters is a place that is gloomy and depressing most of the time.

The Headmaster said that you would be joining us a few days from now, hopefully by the end of next week. I don't like the idea of leaving you with those horrible muggle relatives of yours. I hope you are doing well, maybe you'll feel better knowing Padfoot and Moony are both here. They have been asking about you. 

I'm sorry that I can only offer you a present and written happy birthday.  I feel kind of guilty about that. Even though I don't want to get you into more trouble. Enjoy your birthday. I look forward to meeting you soon.

Mum and Dad send their regards as well as Moony.

 See you soon.

Ron.

The fifteen year old frowned in disapproval at the abruptness of the letter. Wondering if something important had happened and he was once again purposefully kept out of the loop. Unwrapping the maroon paper, Harry smiled happily at the collection of Mrs Waesley's pastries, Bert Bott's Every Flavoured Beans and a second hand book on Quidditch Teams of the World that his friend so generously offered him. A brief light of happiness, so small it was barely a flicker beyond the horizon of darkness in his world, Harry felt something akin to hope settling at the bottom of his stomach.

Hermione's letter to him was a bit longer than Ron's, told of her holiday abroad with her parents and her expectations of OWLS that year. Harry was glad to find a thick tome on Rare Magical Creatures and Unexpected Inheritances in her birthday package. He was so starved for reading that he already cracked open the spine to pursue the contents. The beautifully hand knitted scarf in a dark shade of green she implored him to wear for the coming winter was something that he also treasured. Claiming that it was made not only with imported wool from Wizarding New Zealand but that it was spelled to keep him warm, even on the coldest of days or keep him cool on the warmest of nights. 

Harry carefully folded the scarf and placed his presents underneath the loose floorboards of his room. Quickly scanning the quick missive he received from Sirius, the less than a hundred word letter alerted him to the fact that someone was going to come pick him up that coming Thursday and that they would be seeing each other soon, as well as Moony and the Headmaster.

It was the last letter from the regal black eagle owl that left Harry a bit perplexed though. The parchment that he felt beneath his fingertips was ice cold, probably from the wind outside, but so smooth and thick that it couldn't have been anything but outstanding quality. His name, Harry James Potter, was written in a fluid but beautiful handwriting that he had never seen before in the colour of green and silver.  Carefully turning the letter over, Harry's eyes could just make out a dark green, years old, seal of wax. Pressed within a seal was a crest marked L.A.M in beautiful elegance. Everything screamed power, wealth and careful thoughtfulness to the letter.

It was one he was not sure he should have.

Our Beloved Little Slytherin: Harry,

I regret that you are the one to receive this letter at the tender age of fifteen. Something extremely important is about to happen with this discovery and I, no we, need to tell you this. This letter was written exactly a week after you were adopted and the glamours and charms were temporarily set. Knowing that it will only last until two weeks after your fifteenth birthday, it is imperative that you know of this. It pains me to know that you, a very special boy with a very special destiny, has to be taken away from your true parents because of this blasted war and the dangers present within it. Not to mention the politics and unjust deaths.

I cannot mention your fathers' names as I have been sworn to secrecy by an unbreakable vow present at the adoption ceremony and I promised I would never reveal your true identity or theirs to anyone else. In receiving this letter, little Harry, know that we were either killed for not revealing this secret, or for the discovery of a prophecy spoken over a year ago.

Unfortunately being born within this war, under such unusual circumstances, you are left with a very bleak future and it frankly scares me. I want nothing more than your eternal happiness and joy. Please don't hate me and your daddy when you finally learn the truth of what happened that night so very long ago. No one expected your true parents to die so tragically, the headmaster was shocked just as much. It was never our intention for the war dangers to get so out of hand, no not for them. 

At midnight, exactly the second you were brought into this world, on your fifteenth birthday this letter will be delivered to you. It is a tricky little spell to manage but for you, there were many things a lot of us sacrificed. We all love you very much, our little light of hope in the darkness of our lives. Not only to us but to many, many, many others as well. Looking back now I will never forgive that man for taking you away from the truth and forcing something like this upon your shoulders. Remember that even if we die, your true parents will still love you in even in death.

Always. Just like me and James.

But enough of my childish rambling. I, Lily Hanna Potter nee Evans together with Charles James Potter the III, hereby declare our last obligation to the Order completed in your protection and paid, even with our lives. Within Vault #453 of the Potter Family Trust, which will be opened only upon your birthday, you will find lies the secrets to all the mysteries that are presented in this letter. If Remus Lupin is still alive, your rightful godfather and witness to your birth, please let only him take you to Gringgott's to claim what is rightfully yours.

I must implore little Harry that this letter must not be shown to anyone but him or Andromeda Tonks. Not even Albus Dumbledore as I am writing this letter against his wishes. Whatever you chose to do, this letter will be hidden from prying eyes that it was not written for. It will burst into flames and burn to ashes. So please memorize the information little Slytherin. The truth that I cannot write in this letter is truly out there, you only need to find it. 

Look after yourself precious little Harry. We love you just as much as your real parents did. Never forget that, and don't hate your fathers for what happened. We all love you very much. You will never be alone even when your nights are long and hard. You, our little Harry, will always deserve the salvation and love that this war stole from you so cruelly. It is rightfully yours and such this letter will offer it back to you if you so wish it.  

Forever your faithful Adopted Parents:

Lily and James Potter  

Harry felt his world shattering around his ears. His knees buckled as he slid onto his bed, boneless and trembling with shock, confusion, admiration and a deep heart wrenching pain he had never felt before. Reading, rereading and reading the letter several times over and over again Harry could not help but feel as if his breath was being stolen from his lungs. His hands just would not stop shaking. The letter made some sense to his befuddled thoughts but more than anything the idea of ‘mum and dad wrote to me' was the only thing going through his mind. The nightmare he had lived through mere minutes before and with unkind relatives was nothing in comparison to the panic the words in this letter instilled in his heart.

 Utterly confused and gasping for breath, the scent of the parchment, the quality of the paper beneath his fingers and the aged yellowness of the paper was a telltale sign that this was very real. It was not a joke that the Weasley twins would have played on him, no it was too cruel. This had to be real and in an astonishing realization of reality, Harry smiled softly to himself. It was real; for once...it was real. 

After several hours of sitting in shock and going over the words in his mind, Harry carefully folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. Desperately trying to make sense of what it was that his mum Lily and dad James had been trying to tell him in their words. It only raised more questions than answers but that night Harry drifted off into an dreamless sleep for the first time in a long period of time. The letter carefully clutched against his chest, protectively almost. This was something his mother had wrote, something she had touched...

Grimmauld's Place; 1995

Harry uncertainly waited on the stairs at Grimmauld's Place, his restless eyes gazing forlornly at the closed kitchen door where he knew a very important meeting was being held that he was not privy to. He had to admit, it hurt and even with the open book on his lap that Hermione had given him, it did little to mollify him from his wandering thoughts. Tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry tried in vain to concentrate on the words jumping around on the page. A subtle but destructive headache was building at the back of his eyes as he desperately wiped at them to relieve some of pressure from the pain.

He had arrived earlier that night with the advanced guards of the 'Order of the Phoenix'. Harry had not been thrilled with all the unwanted attention he had received that nightfall and was glad that his uncle had learnt not to leave any visible traces of his beatings where others could see them. Now however, it left Harry flinching with twinges of pain racing up his chest and spine just as he struggled with his rasping breaths and spinning thoughts. He suspected a broken rib as the least amount of damage but there was nothing he could do about it. The rest of the teens occupying the house were already fast asleep. Harry however could not sleep, not when he desperately needed to talk to Remus.

It was about an hour later when the kitchen door finally opened and the adults walked leisurely into the sitting room on the other side of the staircase. Fred and George's extendable ears had already gotten the two into trouble and had made Harry uncomfortable with the unwanted anger of Mrs Weasley. Now though he was uncomfortable because of his hiding place in such plain sight. He wondered what Professor Snape would do should he notice his presence there first.

"Harry? Why are you still here?" It was Professor Dumbledore who spotted him first and the fifteen years old jumped at the sudden intrusion to his wandering thoughts. Emerald green eyes flashed with a trickle of fear at the voice but he could not fathom why. Fiddling with the hem of his shirt he stared at the Headmaster from behind his bangs.

"I-I wanted to talk to Professor Lupin, in private. It's really important." The Headmaster stood at the bottom of the stairs, stroking his beard as if deep in thought before he gave a little nod and beckoned him forward towards the sitting room. It was then that Harry noticed Professor Snape observing the two of them with a frown dotting his features. The sudden change in his expression towards Harry left the teen reeling internally. Yet just as suddenly as that frown disappeared it was replaced by his trademark sneer before he turned away in a flurry of black robes. For some reason Harry was hurt by the sudden change in the man. Yet even if he felt it, he did not show it. Determined not to lose face in front of the Headmaster or give so much of an inkling that Professor Snape was one the few people Harry actually looked up to, he avoided the man's piercing gaze.

"Harry? Why are you still awake?" With uncertain steps he kept his emerald eyes downturned, wishing away all the attention focused solely on him before he uncertainly gazed up at his once favourite teacher. In the distance he could hear Snape degrading his presence there already, likening his rule breaking nature to his presence and likeness to his father. Snape was promptly stilled when the Headmaster admonished him. Harry finally found himself fully able to focus on the task of persuading Professor Lupin to talk to him in private.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble Professor but can I please speak to you alone?" The entire room seemed to be silenced with baited breath, all eyes focusing on his back as Harry pulled the large book closer to his chest in a protective gesture. He was startled when a hand rested on his shoulder, flinching when it grazed one of the deep bruised decorating his body but did not pull away from it.

"You can talk to both of us Harry." Feeling briefly overwhelmed by Sirius' statement, Harry just shook his head in denial to the interruption to the conversation. He knew this information could not be shared, especially if it was true. Harry did not know how his godfather would react but he was sure it would not be good. His mother had also explicitly said only Remus Lupin and Andromeda Tonks would be able to even read the letter. Harry did not know any Andromeda so that only left Remus to talk to. And even if he had been adopted by the Potters, it made Harry only more curious as to who his real parents were. He still trusted them to tell the him truth, even if it was in a letter only delivered fifteen years after it was written.

"I'm sorry Sirius but I need to speak to Remus alone." Cringing at the expression of hurt crossing his godfather's features and his curt response, Harry hurriedly dragged a silent but complaint Remus Lupin away from prying eyes and into the library. The room was quiet enough and far away enough that their conversation couldn't be overheard but Harry still asked the DADA Professor to put up a privacy spell. He did not want this to come out unless he knew the truth r got some answers in return.

"What's wrong cub?" Remus' voiced concern made something warm blossom in Harry's chest and he offered a smile of reassurance, although he was sure it came out more like a grimace.  However, the whole atmosphere was soon shifted when Harry carefully offered the letter to the werewolf before him. The previous DADA Professor gazed at the parchment with a look of confusion before carefully observing the broken seal. 

"What's this?"

"I got it on my fifteenth birthday, I was wondering if you'd take me to Gringgott's tomorrow when we visit Diagon Alley." Remus gave a nod, leaning against an antique oak desk before opening the letter with as much care as Harry had shown in keeping it safe. Several moments of tense silence passed as Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. Watching with concern as Remus' features become paler and paler as he went on. By the time Remus reached the end of the letter, Harry was concerned when the werewolf leaned heavily against the desk; face ashen pale and hands trembling at his side. He looked torn between keep reading the letter and turning his attention to Harry. 

"Oh Lily, what have you done?" The distraught whisper was like a bolt of lightning racing across Harry's skin. It made him wish that he knew what was going on around him and if he would ever awake from this nightmare. It was the soft slide of warm arms around his waist and the gentle pull of an embrace that allowed Harry to find a soothing touch since Cedric's death from someone he trusted.

"It's painful Remus." Harry whispered, fingers bunching the older man's coat between his fingers as his heart ached in his chest and an emotions he was unfamiliar with crept up upon him from nowhere. It was as if he was missing something very important that had been cruelly stolen away from him a long time ago. Something that he knew was only just out of reach and waiting for him to discover its true existence. His ear rested close to the man's heartbeat and in that moment Harry found an uneasy calm settle over him. A calm that was more forced on his part than natural as it should be.

~~~~

'You cannot tell anyone what it is we are going to do today.' Remus reminded Harry sternly as they stepped towards the Floo. It was just past nine in the morning and all the children and their escorts got ready to travel to Diagon Alley. Remus had been assigned to Harry and the young wizard was glad that his godfather hadn't put up much of a fight when it was announced they would be leaving. Although Sirius had been sulking around in his house for a long time now, Harry still felt bad for not spending much time with him. It was almost annoying how much his mind preoccupied him that day.

He could barely even walk in a straight line with all the sleep deprivation that had crept up on him since several weeks before. He could not even offer consolation to his god father when his head was a mess of thousands of swirling emotions he could barely control. It was the gentle touch of Remus' hand on his shoulder and reminder that he was not alone that represented a counter point to his fears and utter exhaustion. His eyelids were heavy, and even though he could breathe a bit more normally that day - it did not help that a pounding headache was also building behind his eyes.

"We'll see you at Flourish & Botts Harry." Ron called and Hermione offered a wave as they disappeared into the flickering green flames of the Floo.

"Alright there Harry," The Twins shouted, repeatedly glancing at him from behind their bangs with concerned gazes and nods to one another. Harry could only offer a small nod and a fake smile in return. Deep within the pit of his stomach excitement and resignation was starting to build at an alarming rate. He had a feeling that his trip to Gringgotts was going to be one to change his life. In the back of his mind there was a niggling that he wanted it to happen, wanted to grasp onto something more substantial than mere memories others offered him.

A steady hand gripped his shoulder as he fell through the hearth in a flourish of green flames. Cursing himself for the near sprawl onto the ground he had barely avoided if not for Remus Harry adjusted his glasses before running his hand through his messy locks to dislodge the soot. He quietly took in the elaborate marble hallways of Gringgotts bank, naturally drawing him in with its splendid wonder and offered young Harry a chance to regain his appreciation of the Wizarding World. 

"We've been expecting you Mr Potter, please follow me." As the goblin beckoned them forward, Harry warily fell into step next to Remus. They had not even asked for assistance, a goblin had merely shown up and started guiding them away from the main hall and the preying eyes that followed their every move. At least with Remus by his side Harry felt a little more at ease. 

Harry gingerly stepped into the cart that was supposed to take him down to his vault. He shuddered as the cart swayed from side to side and picked up speed through the elaborately carved tunnels. The ride down into the tunnels, coupled with his sickly pallor and Mrs Weasley's over the top breakfast did not sit well with Harry. Luckily though, through an immense amount of shear will power alone Harry managed to keep his roiling stomach from overwhelming his senses. Even when he had to lean against the cool wall to regain his composure for a few minutes. He shivered with the exertion; it was already turning his emotions upside down. He could not understand why he felt so sick when he could have taken this mode of travel many times before without so much as thinking of nausea.

"Mr Potter? If you will follow me." Ignoring the clipped and annoyed response of Grinlook, Harry's eyes immediately fell on the elaborate steel, gold and silver vault door marked carefully with the number 453.  For him it was like a beckoning beacon of light that his wary soul needed to calm his raging anxiety and fear. And indeed, it was. With an encouraging squeeze to his shoulder from Remus and a slight push forward, Harry stumbled towards the elaborate door. The small goblin Grinlook stepping up to him and offering Harry a sly smile that immediately made him cringe with concern. 

"Only your blood can open this vault Mr Potter." Grinlook stated before pricking Harry's proffered thumb with a silver ceremonial dagger. The young wizard flinched violently at the quick slash of a silver dagger, rivulets of his blood falling onto the magical lock before dripping onto the floor. Luckily it was magically healed even if it left him reeling internally. His sickly pallor returned at the action but his awe wasn't quelled when the locks, so carefully locked and bolted, slid out of place and unlocked under a shimmer of blue mist as his blood was absorbed through the crystal pendant hanging from one of the hinges.

Biting back his concern, Harry refused Remus' offer to go in with him and braved the inside of the vault himself. For him it was like stepping into a hollow, silenced room that left his breaths brushing uncomfortably cold against his lips and only his own heartbeat could be heard pounding loudly in his ears. The inside of the vault was empty except for the small, beautifully carved onyx box reflected in the light of the lantern Grinlook had given him. Kneeling in front of the small object, Harry easily pulled it into his lap and allowed his fingers to trace the golden outline of an Eastern Dragon. Its egg traditionally clasped in its claws was inlaid as a pearl of smoky black within the wood of the box. The chest itself was just a bit bigger than the size of a shoe box and when he touched it, there was a flash of blue mist, like before, as the invisible lock slid open and the wards fell. 

Inside, laying on a velvet of deep green, four carefully laid compartments on the left side full with four vials, was three pieces of parchment carefully rolled and sealed. Pulling out one of the crystal vials from within its compartment; Harry observed the contents with confusion and a touch of anticipation. Inside all of the vials was a smoky, silvery like material that seemed more wispy than water but slightly thicker than air. It was a strange sensation when he touched the cool vial, it bore no label but he knew that this was the most important of the gift. He stowed them away, careful to not break them, knowing that he would have to ask Remus just what they were.

Turning his attention away from the vial, Harry carefully traced it with his finger one more time before he pulled out the first two parchments. The third was a sealed letter addressed to Lucius Abraxus Malfoy in his mother's flowing and beautiful script. Pushing aside his confusion at the moment for his mother's written letter to Lucius Malfoy; Harry carefully unrolled the first parchment with attention to the quality of the parchment and the inks used. It was strangely written in something that was as dark as blood.

Official Ministry of Magic Birth Record:

Date: 31st July 1980, 23:59

Commemorates the birth of one:

Augustus Saturnus Malfoy-Snape

Father (Donor): Lucius Abraxus Malfoy

Father (Bearer): Severus Tobias Snape

May it so be, the official witnesses:

Remus John Lupin

Andromeda Lila Tonks nee Black

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Harry stared at the first page with a little confusion, his eyes absorbing the information and marvelling at the fact that two male wizards could produce a child. Yet, it wasn't impossible with magic was it? No, he had seen even more extraordinary things happen than that. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he tugged at the next parchment. This one also contained the official seal of the MoM. He unrolled it, only to discover the terrifying truth the contents brought to him.  In all his life, this was not something he had ever expected.

Official Ministry of Magic Adoption Records:

Date: 31st December 1980, 12:30

Seals and files the adoption records of one:

Augustus Saturnus Malfoy-Snape to

Adopted Father: James Charles Potter

Adopted Mother: Lily Hanna Potter nee Evans

Child Renamed: Harrison James Potter

Reasons: Fathers deceased in Tom Marvolo Riddle's ranks on the 27th of December 1980

Extra Notes:  Adopted by the Paternus Mutare charm. Lasts only fifteen years, recastable.

Official Witnesses:

Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Sirius Orion Black