Hi this is my first HP fic I'm posting. I came up with the idea in Afghanistan (82d Airborne) I got in to HP over there, who'da thought huh? But yeah I need pre-readers to help me along since I get mad writer's block. I don't know who Harry will be with in the end. I am flexible. And this story will be long if I finish it. C&C welcome. I don't own Harry Potter otherwise I wouldn't be in the Army.So without further ado.

The Legacy of the Pendragons


The Royalty of England, many times over served their kingdom with distinction, whether it be by Tyranny or by Charity, They were remembered. But who can compare their rule with his majesty Arthur Pendragon? The King, who drew his father's sword from the stone, became one with the land and defeated his own son to his death in mortal combat for the good of his people. This is his tale to the world...to those who know not of our world. His story is greater than many shall ever know. A catalyst to a grand chain of events that shall affect our world forever. This is the Legacy of the Pendragons.



"Yes my Lord?" The elderly knight knelt before his king, who, by the hour was regaining his strength for the coming conflict.

"I need Excalibur." Spoke Arthur, his hand to his chin pondering his fate in the days to come.

"My Lord, we...we do not know where it is. Not since..."


"M-my Lord?" He trembled at the name of his estranged queen.

"It troubles me no more. One cannot predetermine the course of love, and even a king cannot dictate its path. Nay, what troubles me is the thought of slaying my only son. A son not born from the womb of my queen." He rubbed his eyes trying to hide away his thoughts. "You will find her. Do not fetch her. I shall seek her out myself."

"Sire, I do not understand."

Despite his love of his most loyal and faithful knight, Arthur's frustration had gotten the better of him.

"It is not for you to question the will of your king!" He said, with command, and at once Gallahad knelt.

"Forgive me my Lord. She shall be found in two days time. I shall dispatch riders to all corners of the kingdom."

"Make it so..."

And the knight turned on his heel and left to carry out his orders.

'She will be found, but to what end? What purpose and My Lord have for that unfaithful wench!?!'


Arthur rode discreetly through the town, noting its recovery was the same as every town. Though some still spiteful of his. Many knew the King and Land were one, and struggled to return to any semblance of their lives before famine and plague. He felt a breeze though his common robes and remembered what his life as a squire was like. How simple it was...

And his eyes met hers. In the robes of the convent, basket in hand and loaves of bread lay inside. He slowly walked up to her, looking only like a lost traveler to the eyes of the village. She lowered her gaze, as a quiet sign of respect, or out of shame he did not know.

"Spare the Word for a lost traveler sister?" He asked.

"You can find help in the town square..."

"Lost in life, not in land, sister." He smiled.

The two walked to the town's edge, along the thick forest surrounding the town. They came upon a small cabin beyond the eyes of even prying and adventuring children.

"I come here when even the solace of the convent cannot comfort me..."

The two sat on the floor facing each other, following each others eyes.

"Gweniviere, I haven't much time. My destiny draws to a close. You have it...I know you do. I have requests of you."

"I have it...here." She loosens the floorboard on her side, jarring it loose and pulling out a clothed length. Slowly she removed its folds revealing the great sword of the lake.

"I-I'm sorry m'lord. I could not leave it. And...and I could not return. Lancelot...Arthur I'm sorry!" She broke down at the memories of her infidelity and the foolishness of her young age. She had long since reconciled her feelings for knight.

"You must hate me. Had I known what true love was like I would not have been unfaithful! Please believe me when I say I love you! Lancelot...was...yes, he gave me many things but never his heart. I desired attention. I could not understand why you could not be by my side forever. You loved a foolish and stupid girl. But, she loved you. Deep in her heart she loved you," She took his hand placed it over her heart. "And she loves you still. Please forgive the choices I made in my past life and forgive me of mine in this life. Our Lord God has forgiven me, but I cannot live without yours." She released his hand and wiped away the flow of tears from her eyes only to have another hand touch her cheek, running itself down to her chin lifting her eyes to his.

"I cannot do what I have already done..."


Arthur looked upon her sleeping form and spoke, knowing she would hear his voice.

"Bear me a child my love. A son. But free him of my legacy and raise him as my son and not as my prince. I love you; forgive me for not telling you sooner. Know that my love never dies, though this body shall. Farewell..."


Eyes from beyond the forest peered into deep forest, hearing cries and declarations of love, entwined in a passion the owner of the eyes was sworn to never have. She watched the man, a common man leave, and later her own sister leave. Daring to wear the robes of the convent while exposing herself to the simple pleasures of the flesh to a stranger.

"She can no longer stay..."


"Father! She cannot stay! She has broken her vow of celibacy! She has forsaken the convent and resorted to pleasures of the flesh! Whoring herself out to common men! I saw it with my own eyes! She had a cabin in the woods! That's where she's been disappearing too! Lying to us!"

The elder women had paused, her breathing heavy and ragged from yelling. The middle age priest sat with behind his desk, resting his head on his hands, taking in what the nun had said to him.

"Perhaps she has a good explanation..."

"The excuse doesn't matter!"

A knock suddenly sounded from the door before it was slowly opened revealing a downtrodden Gweniviere.

"You requested to see me Father?" She spoke timidly, and with reason.

"Yes I did. Sister Blaine says she saw you enter a cabin with a man, procreated, and returned here. She suspects you of prostitution, that his is not a one time incident, and that you should be removed from the convent."

"As she very well should be!"

The Priest raised his hand, quieting her and waited for Gweniviere's explanation.

"Father, I know when you took me in you didn't care about my past."

He only nodded.

"Well that man has very much to do with my past. His name is Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Camelot. I am Gweniviere Pendragon, his queen."

"Liar!" The old woman screamed.

Gweniviere quickly reached inside her robes and pulled out a necklace bearing the royal crest.

"This is proof enough."

"It still does not change the fact that you have broken sacred vows." She glared at Gweniviere her eyes reading more than frustration.

"Father, you must know, as many, that I have not given the King a son. He in his last declaration to me, forgiven me for my infidelity, shown me his love for and ask that I bear him a son. Not and heir to the thrown, but a simple boy. And that was all there was to this I swear it."

The priest folded his hands, covering his mouth, lost in thought.

"Blaine, leave us."

Reluctantly the elder left in a huff, her footsteps louder than usually and her frustration in the situation obvious. The two watched her leave before facing each other once more.

"She is not mistaken in the fact that you have broken many rules and deserve to be removed. The only King we serve rules in Heaven and we cannot surrender ourselves with such petty things."

She only nodded and trembled at his every word.

"However, I believe that to rid one's self of one's past, one must confront it, accept it, and lastly forget it. You are no longer the Queen. You have done you King's last request. You are now a Nun at this convent."

Her eyes shot up from the floor looking at him with hopeful eyes.

"But I must send you to the mission up north. Forgive me to make you travel, but the conflict, though petty and simple, would take time to recover from. I'm sorry."

She shook her head in response.

"No! Thank you! This is not a problem, I only wish to remain at a convent and help others. You have given me another chance of which I felt unworthy of. Thank you Father Potter.


The heavy breathing and screams that once filled the room were suddenly replaced by the struggled breaths and crying of a small and pale newborn baby. The nurse severed the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby in a towel, drying him and looking at it admirably.

"Congratulations Gweniviere. It's a boy." She handed the baby to his mother, quieting its cries in her arms.

A small rapping came from the door and an elderly man peeked his head in.


"Come in Father. Shhh...he's asleep now."

"He?" He blinked and folded his hands. "Well then, has he a name?"

Gweniviere smiled pressing her lips to her son's forehead and nodded. "It- it was my husband's last wish to spare him of his reputation. That he grow to become a common man."

Tears began to form in her eyes and she remembered the name she had long since chosen for her son.

"My son...Arthur Potter..." And her tears fell, running down her cheeks recalling memories long forgotten. It had been a long time since she cried, especially out of happiness.


James leapt from his chair tot he window at the sounds of screaming. He cast his eyes upward and saw it. A green skull, looking misty and foreboding. Immediately he summoned his wand and made for the door. He stopped once he heard footsteps follow from down the stairs. He held his hand up, stopping his wife, her worried look even more so at the thoughts that entered he mind.

"Stay with Harry. I'll be back."

And with that he rushed out the door and down the street. His neighbors were fighting back, some fleeing in terror while others carried their kin to safety. He found a small barrel and hid behind it snapping out to cast spells. Flashes of green laced out as he watched another of his townsfolk fall. Voldemort could not see him, but his minions could. This thought resonated through his mind and he readied himself to leap out again to rejoin the fray until he felt a tug on his sleeve. A young wizard, about his own age wheezed out a breath, trying to fight the pain of the popping boils.

"James..." He sucked in another breath before coughing it out. "James, he knows...he's coming for you. *COUGH* He knows your secret..." And his last breath left him sounding like a sigh of relief.

He knows? Voldemort knows our secret!?! Harry! Lily!

He darted back between cover and running back to his home. HI saw him home in sight, just a mere left turn away, when he saw him appear before him.

"James Potter...You know what I've come for..."

And for the first time in his life, he panicked. He could not think as this monster slowly swept towards him. His mind was a mess. He knew he needed to fight, to cast spells, punch him, anything! But he froze.


The sound of his wife's voice shook him from his stupor and he saw her hiding behind the front door, wand in hand.

"Lily!" He screamed, instantly apparating to her side.

"James, James, are you alright? What's happening?" His body trembled and he held her close trying to sputter out the words that to even to him made no sense."

"Voldemort knows our secret and he's coming. He right outside," He said calmly, caressing her face as the tears rolled down. "Get Harry and yourself to Dumbledore. I'll hold him off."


"I love you."

He kissed her fiercely and she ran upstairs as James readied himself at the front door waiting for it to burst open. Unbeknownst to him, Voldemort circled around the back, using the sound of the raging conflict to quiet his unlocking charm and strode slowly upstairs.

"NO! Take me! Spare Harry! He's only a ba-AHHHHHHHHHH!" And a thud resounded trough the house with the cries of a child.

"Lily!" James cried rushing upstairs. "You BAST-!" But he did not finish the word. He found the tip of Voldemort's wand between his eyes.

"You will join her. Avada Kedavra." He hissed coldly and James fell, with a light thud.

"And now the last of the Potters. Young Harry..."

"No!....Don't you dare..." A voice struggled.

"What!?! Impossible! You should have died! No matter! Avada Kedavra!"

And a bolt of green shot at the baby, sitting on the bed, unknowingly watching his parents die and beginning the course of life to which legends will be told of.

Voldemort's body had decayed and faded into a thick brown mist, swirling around, before passing through the walls.

"Harry...argh...live son. Live." His dying breath was spent and his body began to shake. The spell that was meant to kill was begun to succeed and the lifeless body writhed in a life like torturous manner, glowing green, and blue before finally expending itself in one great explosion. Decimating the house in a shower of lights and seemingly random spells begin cast from the house. Only the bed, on which Harry sat on lay unscathed, while the rest lay in ruins. A sacrifice that shall forever follow him until he is ready to understand.