DISCLAIMER: this is a work of fanfiction. Thus, Harry Potter is not owned by me. Secondly, This is an AU world, and as such things will be different.

Chapter 1

Rain pelted his feathers as he struggled through the wind, though he paid it no mind. His mind was on his task. He must deliver his package, and soon. He could feel his wings slowing, the square package drooping from his leg. With a squeak of protest, the owl forced himself to flap harder. He was nearly there.

It was raining in Surrey. That in itself was not odd. What was odd was that Harry Potter had no chores to do. When the rain came in, he was outside mowing the lawn, his last chore of the day. Harry pushed the mower as swiftly as he could, mowing the already immaculate grass so he could escape the water. After putting the mower away, he went inside, chucking his grass stained trainers off by the door. He went into the kitchen, made himself a sandwich, and ran up to his room, safe in the knowledge that his aunt and uncle were out of the house along with his cousin.

He ate his sandwich, feeding the crust to his snowy owl Hedwig as he looked out the window at the rain. He thought of his past year, and meeting his Godfather. Harry thought of his third year other than that as well. Remus was a great teacher, and the rest of his subjects went rather well now that he thought about it.

He looked at the calendar by his door, above his desk. The dates up to July Thirtieth were crossed out, with July Thirty-first circled. Hedwig let out a small hoot.
"I know girl. Soon we get to leave. I can't wait to see the World Cup." The boy spoke to his owl as if she could answer, which she may have as she hooted back.

"You know I don't have any more crust for you Hedwig. You can see that." Harry smiled at his companion, who turned her head as if ignoring her master's statement.

Harry was about to make another remark to his owl when a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a crack of thunder that shook the house. Harry's attention was drawn to the window, and his eyes widened.

The owl panted, as much as an owl can pant. He glided along as many thermals as he could find, trying to preserve his strength. He could see the house, but the storm seemed to increase in strength upon his destination being found. Wind blasted him to either side, nearly tearing him from his course. Finally, nature seemed to take pity upon the poor creature, and a burst of wind erupted behind him, propelling him toward the boy who stared at the owl through the window. He tried to open his wings, to slow his descent, but it was useless, he was exhausted.

Harry looked wide-eyed as the owl flew toward the window, battling the storm with every flap. Finally, it seemed the owl's preservation would pay off as it suddenly accelerated towards the window. Harry opened the window just before the bird would have hit it. With an exhausted hoot, the bird crashed into the hard wood floor rolling to a stop. Harry shut the window, and dropped by the bird's side trying to see the damage to the brown owl. The bird seemed fine, if just exhausted. At least to Harry's unexperienced eyes.
"Woah. I have never seen an owl fly through a storm like that. You rest up, and I'll take this." Harry spoke to the owl as he gently removed the package. As soon as the package was free from the owl, it slowly grew as was standard for most packages delivered via owl. Setting the package on his bed, Harry scooped the owl gently up, and set him on a spare sweater that was laying on the desk. "This will have to do… Hedwig doesn't share very well I'm afraid." The owl ruffled her feathers proudly, as if she was shrugging.

Once the owl was resting, Harry turned his attention to the package. Wrapped in brown paper, it seemed to be a book, with a letter atop it. Harry grabbed the letter, and tore it open.

Dear Harry,

Greetings from your godfather. I am away from the country, and by the time this owl gets to you, I will have moved yet again. I am sorry that I could not take you with me, but your education and friendships are important. A life on the run is not a life Harry, as much as I would love it to be. I am going to hunt a rat while I run. If I can find him, I will be free, and we can see what happens then. But until then Harry, keep your chin up. Your parents wouldn't want you to do worry too much about your godfather.

Enough of the darker topics. I wrote to you, hoping you get this on your birthday, or before. When James made me your godfather, he made me promise something more than usual godfather oaths. He had me swear that should I be able, and he couldn't to give you this gift, and explain what it was.

In the package attached to this letter is a book. Not a normal book, but a book with so many protections that even Dumbledore couldn't open it, even if he teamed with Voldemort. Inside the pages of this book is something that is as priceless to James and his, as it will be to you. It is the Potter Grimoire, and with-in its pages, the history of the Potters, including your father's and mother's lives, are documented. It is also a spell and magic depository, as every head of the family, and every heir added to the book in some way.

WAIT! Before you open that book know the warning James gave me to pass on. If you use the book, the book will change you. Inside its pages is power, and power will change a man Harry. Power changed Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and even James. After reading that book, James did not want to play as many pranks, matured faster, and disappeared for a few hours a week. We never could find him during these times, and if we did, I am not sure how he would have reacted. This book is both a gift, and a burden Harry.

I only give this to you because I know you can handle it. While it may change you, it will never break you. Harry, you are a strong, courageous and smart kid. James said that book amplifies that which makes you who you are. If that is true, and I don't doubt it is, I cannot wait to see the man you become. You do not have to open and read the book… I know that change is both terrifying and humbling. But at least you have it.

As I read over what I wrote so far, I realized that I have not said the most important sentence yet. Happy Birthday Harry! I wish you cake, and happy memories of your friends and loved ones. Before you get sad that I am not there, know that I am there where it matters Harry. I am always thinking of you. Even now, I can remember your first birthday, watching you zoom around scaring a cat on your toy broom. I can hear James' laughter as Lily chased you around trying to urge you to be safe. Those moments, even if you don't remember them, proves the love of your family. They would not want you sad on this day of joy Harry. So smile, keep your chin up, and live. That is all they, and I would want from you.

It is becoming dark, and I must find an owl. I will write you when I can, and think of you always. If you need me, send me an owl. Do not use Hedwig, as she is conspicuous.

Sincerely, and always,

Harry reread the letter many times. The words blurred together in front of his eyes, and it was then he realized he was crying. He had gotten presents before, at Christmas and his previous birthday, but this gift was arguably the best, up there with the photo album Hagrid made for him. In the brown packaging was his heritage, and a connection to his roots. Harry tore the paper off the book, and gasped as its cover came to light.

Black leather, smooth from age covered the front and back panel, with the spine being of a red leather. The corners were capped with golden tips, and the title was pressed into the leather with shining red letters. The words "Fortunae gloriam sanguinis" were shining from the cover as if polished.

"Fortune is Honoring the Blood?" Harry translated as he ran a finger over the title. "What does that even mean? I guess I have to open the book to find out." Finding courage in his own words, Harry opened the book and read the first page.

Greetings young Potter. If you are reading this, you have been able to open the book. If you managed to open the book without being a Potter, then welcome as well. You have cracked the magic, and thus have ownership of all the contents in this book. Good luck understanding it thief.
Now young Potter, in these pages you will find your history. Yet before you begin, one thing must be made clear. There are only three things that Potters value. It is in order, Family, Freedom, and Magic. Starting with the first, family is absolute. Yet family does not mean those of blood. Blood plays only a factor in family. Family are those who hold you up when you cannot stand upon your own. Freedom is the next value that Potters care for. Potters do not like being caged. We value our freedom, as we have for centuries. It is only via freedom that knowledge of right and wrong can be acquired. And finally magic. Those without magic, are not less than those with magic. However they are not with magic, and without this they can never understand what it means to have it, just as we will never understand technology. Blood status, as is common at my time, does not matter. Muggleborn, PureBlood, or HalfBlood. These are just words, labels of those who wish to discriminate against magic itself. I have dueled and beaten witches and wizards from each of these classifications. One is not better than the other.

It is because of these values that the family motto is Fortune is Honoring the Blood. Honor your family. Fortune will come to those who value those they hold dear, and who are free. Magic, while magnificent, is but a tool to reach those values and to hold them when you acquire them.

Inside these pages, you will learn how to use that tool in ways that baffle many wizards. You will be able to preform feats of magic that most will consider impossible; duel on par with wizards of legend; and with lady luck's help, protect that which you value.

Good Luck Young Potter,
Charles Potter
th Head of the Potter Family.

"Charles Potter, 54th Head of the Potter Family." Harry read aloud, his voice wavering slightly at the name. With a deep breath, Harry turned the page and continued to read.

Hedwig hooted, startling Harry. He looked around and noticed that it was dark, and that light was slowly bathing the horizon. "I need to pack! Thanks Hedwig!" Harry bolted out of bed, the book laying open where he left it, the pages faintly glowing.

As the teen packed his things, his mind was racing with all the information he gained though his reading. Never had he retained information so fast. It was as if he could read it once, and know it. Not just be able to recite it, but be able to elaborate upon it. It was as if he had revised for hours with Hermione.

"It must be magic." Harry muttered as he stuffed some shorts into his trunk and tried to close it. With a groan of protest, the trunk closed and Harry latched it. Harry grabbed his bag, and started to stuff the rest of his things into it. In went the treasures under the floorboard, his spare trainers, and his wand. Finally he came to the book. Still sitting on his bed open to the page he left it at.

He looked around the room, making sure everything was packed. All that was left was Hedwig's cage, with Hedwig inside, his Firebolt, and the book. The Firebolt and Hedwig can travel separate from the bag and the trunk, and the book, well that wasn't leaving his hands. The owl from before hooted and flew to the window. Harry smiled, and opened the window, allowing the bird to fly away. He shut the window and looked at the bed.

Harry, now fully packed, got back into bed to read some more.

Ron shifted from foot to foot. He wasn't nervous, but excited. Today was the day Harry came over for the rest of the summer! Plus his mum had made a feast for Harry's birthday! That alone was enough for Ron to wake up earlier than normal for the summer at 10am. He finished his Charms essay, another first, and went out to practice Quidditch. His flying sucked, but he still practiced. After all, he would never be one of those in the World Cup someday without practice.

It was a very sweaty, but happy redhead who entered the Burrow around 1pm. "Hey mum! When are we getting Harry?"

"As soon as you are clean young man! Hurry up! We will not be late in picking him up." His mother shooed her youngest son upstairs while stirring multiple pots with her wand.

It was a few minutes longer when Ron came back down stairs to see most of his family standing around the fireplace. "About time Ronald. Now we are going to Floo to a kind Neighbor of Harry's. You can't tell him about it though Ronald. Headmaster Dumbledore said so." His mother looked him in the eye and Ron felt the fear that every child did when their parents looked at them seriously.

"Yes mum!" The redheaded teen stammered. His father threw floo powder in the fire and stepped in. Ron noticed he didn't say anything but still travelled to wherever it was they were going.

"It's a special access. The Ministry has it registered to be that way, due to it being a squib's residence. I'll have to stay to keep it open." Molly Weasley stated as she noticed Ron's confusion. "Now go get Harry!"

With the orders of his mother, Ron stepped into the flames, and Flooed to his friend.

His uncle Vernon yelling, "Get the door boy," brought Harry back from his book once more. With a sigh, he memorized the page number, shut the book and went down stairs. He opened the door slightly distracted, and recited his standard door opening lines.

"We don't want any of what you're selling. Sorry, try next door." He then started to shut the door.

"I mean if he doesn't want to leave dad does that mean we can sell his ticket?" A familiar voice cut through Harry's distraction.

"Ron! , Fred, George! I'm sorry, I was just distracted." Harry said sheepishly.

"It's fine Harry, perfectly fine. Fred, George, go get Harry's trunk please. No funny business! And yes that means no pranks! I want to be able to tell your mother that we didn't break the law this time." told his twin sons.

"Yes dad!" One of the twins said as they both started up the stairs. Soon both were caring a handle of Harry's trunk with the Firebolt sitting atop it. One was carrying Harry's bag and the other Hedwig's cage. "We told Hedwig to head to the Burrow Harry. Also, that book is still on your bed and we put your wand beside it. We couldn't lift the book for some reason." The twin holding the cage said as they passed their redheaded family and Harry on their way out. Harry rushed up and grabbed the book and his wand. He tucked the book under his arm and his wand in his pocket as he ran back down stairs and out the front door to meet the Weasleys.

"Mr. Weasley? How are we getting to the burrow?" Harry asked as they all were on the front lawn.

"Well Harry, we, that is you and the boys, are going to use this Portkey." Arthur pulled a chipped saucer from his back pocket. "I will take the luggage and meet you at the burrow."

"What's a portkey?" Harry asked.

"Basically it's an object that is charmed to teleport itself – put a finger on it really fast please-and anything that it touches to a certain location when conditions are met. " Mr. Weasley said as all the boys touched the portkey. pulled his finger away, just as the object turned blue, and Harry felt a hook jerk from behind his navel.

He laughed as he started to levitate Harry's things. "The old random portkey trick never gets old…"

With a thud Harry landed face down in the muck. As he slowly got back up, he noticed the rest of the Weasleys doing the same. "Ouch… Dad got us again with that didn't he Fred?" One of the twins asked the other as they got up.
"Sure did George. I'm not sure if we should be impressed he got us with it, or mad that we fell for it again."

"Well boys, you should know better than to think you can beat your old man just yet." Mr. Weasley said with a smile as he walked up to the boys. "Harry, welcome back to the Burrow." With a smile, Arthur turned and waved his wand. As he did so, the Burrow slowly appeared before Harry's eyes.

"Dad did you just-" Ron started to ask.

"He is family Ron." Arthur Weasley started to walk up the lane to his home. The gaggle of teens following in his wake.

"What just happened Ron?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Dad just keyed you to the wards permanently. As long as you live, you are welcome at the Burrow." Ron explained in a whisper. Ron's words shocked Harry into silence.

"Happy birthday Harry, sadly I can't stay for your party, I have to go into work. I'll see you all tonight though." The Weasely patriarch ushered them into the house, and his wife's arms before smiling happily and starting back down the lane. 'Let's see any one top that present!' he thought before apparating to work.

Harry felt a warmth in his chest as he sat at the table in the Burrow, surrounded by redheads and a single brunette. Ginny was to his left, chatting with a man that had to be nearly 20 years old, with burn scars on his arms, who introduced himself as Charlie Weasley. He was only in for a few days he said, before he went back to Romania. Though Harry thought he was hinting that he would be around more this year than normal.

To Harry's right was Hermione Granger, who arrived mere hours after Harry did via floo. She was listening intently to Percy go on about his work at the Ministry of Magic. Beside Hermione sat Ron, who was talking to his twin brothers about the World Cup.

"I'm telling you, Krum is going to in the cup for Bulgaria! He is the best seeker in the world you know." Ron said as he gestured with a spoon.

"That may be true Ron, but the Irish have the best chasers in the world. It doesn't matter if Krum catches the snitch if Ireland is 160 points ahead." One twin said before taking a bite of the roast that Mrs. Weasley made for dinner.
"Besides that, brother of mine, Lynch isn't a push over. A seeker battle isn't just about who is better, there is also luck involved. If Lynch finds the snitch right beside him, and Krum is on the other side of the pitch…" The other twin said after taking a bite from his plate.

"Fred-" Ron started to respond to the second twin.
"Hey! I'm George!" The twin responded.

"Sorry, George,but Krum isn't going to not catch the snitch." Ron replied.

"Enough Quidditch talk boys. It's time for the birthday cake." Mrs. Weasley silenced all the talk at the table and waved her wand to levitate a large cake over. It was decorated with a massive stag made of icing. "Hermione recommended a stag as the decoration. I don't know why, but she insisted." She explained to the table.

"It.. it means a lot to me. Its my patronus." Harry answered the unspoken question as he stared deep into the black icing eye of the stag.

"You can do a patronus at your age Harry?" Charlie was the first to speak and break the silence from that statment.
"Yea… Professor Lupin taught me. I had a bad reaction with Dementors last year." Harry mumbled as began to cut the cake.

"Well, that is impressive. I wouldn't expect anything else from Harry Potter of course." Charlie winked to show Harry he was joking.

The rest of the night was spent in laughter and happiness with a great cake and marvelous people.

When Harry went to bed, his mind went back to Sirius' letter. "Thanks Sirius for the wish…"