*Weapons of Choice*
Weapons of Choice by Pseudonymous Entity
"If you mess with dragons, you will get burned. Don't say no one warned you." -Slaying Dragons
Summary: In a world where Tom Riddle never became a dark lord, and Lily died after giving birth, Harry Potter is raised with limited human contact shut away in Godric's Hallow. Political battles and blood prejudice rise to the forefront of the wizarding world just as Harry turns 11. With help from an unlikely source, and his eccentric cousin Andares Black, Harry must fight for his place in magical society...or lose it.
Characters: Harry Potter
Warnings: None at this time
AN: I always have stories in the back of my mind and every so often one simply won't go away and I am forced to put it down before it consumes me. This is one of those stories. Or actually, this is the beginning.
Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]
"Just a moment's error, a wrong choice, traps us on a road of no return
...Imagine the fright when we realize the severity of our mistakes
Whoever said love was a happy affair?"
Magic can do many wonderful things.
In the non-magical world, it can bring a smile to young children or wide eyes of amazement to the adult passing by a street magician. In other, hidden worlds, magic can allow you to fly up into the air on broomsticks or step through the flames of a fireplace and come out somewhere else entirely. It makes the impossible possible.
Or at least it seems to.
But even magic, as one comes to find, can't do everything. Sometimes even witches and wizards make a certain kind of mistake that no elixer or charm can mend. For the most part, these instances are rare enough that the majority of us can continue on in our lives in a naive sort of confidence that everything will turn out right in the end, no matter how our yesterday may have gone. In reality, we are all of us only a breath away from losing that naivete.
James Potter was the sort of boy who believed anything was possible. That he could do anything he wanted and have whatever he wanted, and if all else failed magic would do it for him. He grew up the spoilt and beloved only child of an older magic couple, each coming from a long line of other magical people. James was a clever boy and, he discovered upon entering school, talented at Transfiguration and Flying. Being the clever boy he was James realized he could at times cross the line when the thing between him and what he wanted was a someone. This never stopped him.
A day came, however, were getting what he wanted stopped mattering quite as much. Or rather, he no longer knew for certain what it was he wanted. Even in a world of magic, there are arguments and sometimes those arguments and differences of opinions escalate in the form of violence. Such was the case here. James' parents weren't just pureblooded magic folk, they both belonged to ancient and noble houses. In fact, the Potters and the Blacks both -For James mother had been born to the Blacks- found their names in the Book of Gold.
There are three books for such names, the books of Gold, Silver, and Bronze. The names found therein were wizarding royalty, or as close as magic folk got. As such these families carrying these names held responsibilities. Once such responsibility was the writing and passing of laws and regulations for their world. The problem here lay in the fact not everyone agreed on what was best. And sometimes when an especially important or controversial vote was coming up, the arguments would become more subtle -or even deadly- in their approach. People would change their minds or suddenly lose interest. Switch their sides or even, quite unfortunately of course, fall ill. Or die.
James' parents were part of the forerunners for new legislation concerning blood status within the wizarding world and how it should -or shouldn't- have an effect. No one would ever know for sure who did it, but just before James' father was due to put his signature down he fell mysteriously ill and perished. His mother following him.
Alone in the world, and understanding that the sort of magics required to bring his parents back was exactly the sort of thing they'd died fighting against, James returned to school unsteady and unfocused. What did this mean for him? What would he do now? James poured himself into his studies and ignored even his friends for a while, trying to come to terms with his new life. He was sixteen. He was the Lord of a family. And the only member of that family. Suddenly his life was filled with responsibilities and questions and magic hadn't saved his parents.
Oh, how James resented magic in those dark days.
Storms do end though and once again James found himself smiling and laughing. He gained a girlfriend and -after they graduated- a wife. In the form of one Lily Potter nee Evans. Thin and long with tumbling red waves for hair, and bright almond shaped eyes the perfect shade of green, she was everything to him. Or so James decided. He ignored his former anguish and transferred all of his affections and focus onto Lily. Keeping her happy, making her smile.
It was not long after he discovered he was due to become a father. As strong as James' joy was it compared little to that of Lily. Her eyes shined and her skin glowed whenever she thought of the approaching baby and she spent most of her days flitting about Godric's Hollow and decorating the new nursery. And it was here that James remembered something that he had forgotten. Magic can't fix everything.
On a day that dawned crisp and fresh and full of promise, the tiny bit of darkness James had shoved aside after his parents' death crawled out of its corner and began to make a mess inside of Jame's head and his heart.
Lily was going to die.
Lily was going to die because she was sick and rather than trying to heal herself her magic had instead focused on the unborn life within her. In the child's place, Lily began to waste away. Her cheeks hollowed and her skin grew ashen. It seemed every time James managed to forget he had only to look at her to be forcefully reminded. If Lily had the baby, Lily would die. And Lily had decided she was having that baby.
Unable to watch the light of his life fade, James spent more and more time away. He ignored the concerned inquiries from his friends and assured those that might notice his unbalance that he was fine. During these moments James made his first mistake in the form of a pureblooded witch with dusty orange-yellow hair that gleamed red in the candlelight...
On the day of his son's birth, James Potter would make his second mistake.
When the child was born it was a son, as James had hoped. He held the babe in his arms while his wife rested. The mediwitch assured him if Lily allowed her magic to begin healing her she had a chance of surviving her illness. His joy at the news was tarnished when, as he spoke, he noticed a dim to Lily's vibrant green eyes. She would not be doing so, she told him. For what the nurses failed to mention was that the baby in his arms had contracted the disease from its mother and without special care and attention -and the magic Lily alone could spare- the child wouldn't be long for this world.
And here James felt and acknowledged the darkness within him. The pieces of him that resented magic, and resented the laws that forbade him from saving his parents, and even resented the love Lily held for the child that would have her giving up her life for it rather than giving up on it and living for him. She loved the child more than James and the once joy and once pride within him turned bitter with jealousy. He stared down at the sleeping child in his arms, this boy with his chin and his nose and even his hair. Would be left with nothing? Alone once more with only a carbon copy of himself to serve as a reminder of his inadequacy? He could not save his parents and he would not be able to save Lily.
But oh that part of him that was always so willing to cross the line in search of what he wanted, reared its head and James looked from Lily to the Baby and back and forth, an idea forming in his mind. He ignored Lily's alarmed questioning. He ignored the sound of his best friend knocking on the door, wanting to know if he could come in to see the baby. All James could think or feel in that moment was a tumultuous whirlwind of guilt and jealousy and want. He wanted to keep Lily with him.
James vaguely registered the sound of his best friends' voice. He barely felt the hands on his shoulders shaking him, demanding to know what he had done. It was too late. Too late!
No one could change it. He examined the child he held which opened its eyes at the commotion. Softer, pointed chin. Higher, rounder cheeks. And...bright viridian green eyes.
In the months following Lily's death, James would continue to make mistakes. He would leave the raising of his son to nanny's, as he could not bear the guilt he felt when he looked at it. He would remarry, for the other witch he'd spent his attentions on was about to give birth. To another son in fact. He would make so many mistakes, the consequences of which would not begin to be realized for nearly eleven years. But this was never a story about James. This is a story about his son.
Notes: Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed
An: I have the first few chapters of this already outlined, and ready for plumping and decorating. If you're interested?
ANx2: I thoroughly enjoy guesses and theories no matter how long the comment ends up being, never fear to share your thoughts with me. I value all of my readers and appreciate the insight and the brief glimpses of the story from your perspective.
Ever Yours, Pseu