Rowthan Re-write Chapter One

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it is not mine. No copyright or trademark infringement is meant, I have the utmost respect for the true intellectual owner of Harry Potter. This is meant to be nothing more than a means for my own creative process to thrive.

Secondary Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Note: There is some editing and adding here, I am hoping that by doing this, I can finish this story.

Chapter One


By 1965, Earl Edmund and Countess Elizabeth Rowthan were facing a difficult truth. Countess Elizabeth was barren.

Edmund, whose mother Rowena was a Potter, looked to his cousins Charlus and Fleamont Potter to potentially provide an heir. Charlus married in 1940 to Dorea Potter (nee Black) and Fleamont had married Euphemia in 1930. Alas, Charlus only had one child in 1958, a son named Henry for his and Fleamont's father, and could not provide an heir for Edmund. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter (nee Fawley) had appeared as barren as Elizabeth and Edmund until after many miscarriages and childless years, James was born in 1960.

And so, they waited. And waited, and waited.

Until 1977 when James Potter got a muggle-born girl pregnant while attending Hogwarts. The two were quickly married and when a second son was announced in 1980, Edmund went to implore James Potter to allow him to make one of James and Lily's sons his heir, and to blood-adopt the child. Henry had married, but girls could not inherit a Patrilineal title or pass on a Patrilineal name and at the time he had three daughters.

At first, James and Lily agreed that Jacob was to become the Rowthan Heir and future Earl of Radnor until a fateful night in 1981.

Bathilda Bagshot, and one of her great-grandnieces, were watching the two boys while their parents were over at Sirius's house – to escape Godric's Hollow and the melancholy James suffered after being forced to take a leave of absence from the Dragon Corps while protected under the Fidelus Charm.

They had no idea that their leaving for a few short hours would change the course of history.

Peter betrayed them, leading Voldemort to Jacob's nursery where the two boys were playing (well, Harrison was playing with a children's broom – the four-year-old was mostly watching over his little brother – and Jacob was playing with his stuffed Bambi).

Voldemort hadn't even wasted his time with killing Bagshot or Selwyn (as the girl had married) and simply stunned them. A small part of the Dark Lord was looking forward to hearing their screams. How delightful would that be, and then kill them!

He turned his wand to the youngest, the one the prophecy must have been about, "A child defeat me? No matter, Avada Kedavra!"

Only for a peculiar thing to happen. Harrison stepped in front of the Killing Curse, and the Dark Lord Voldemort exploded in a violent concussive wave. Glass windows and lamps shattered, cutting Jacob on the forehead and surrounding the unconscious form of Harrison "Harry" James Potter.

After Dumbledore declared Jacob "The Boy Who Lived," James and Lily couldn't very well allow the Hero of the Wizarding World to be anything but a Potter. So, Harrison was chosen, much to the dismay of Fleamont.

Unfortunately, the Dragon Pox claimed Euphemia and Fleamont before further negotiations could be made after Charlus's grandsons were born in January of 1982. Etienne, Jacques, Alexander or Nathaniel could have made an excellent heir – had Fleamont been able to negotiate with Edmund and Charlus further.

1982 saw the deaths of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. 1984 saw the blood adoption of Harrison Jacques Rowthan (formerly Harrison James Potter), on the 7th day of his 7th year. 1985 saw the death of Lord Edmund Rowthan. 1988 saw the first Potter to attend a school that was not Hogwarts in more than ten generations, Durmstrang.

Durmstrang was a challenge for the boy who'd expected to get grief over being related to the Jacob Potter. Fortunately, everyone seemed to think he was a cousin of the Potters and did not bother him too much about it.

He gained friendships that would last a lifetime. Including to one Victor Krum, whose skills on a broom rivaled Harrison's and whose friendship led to dual citizenship with Bulgaria and a place on the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team.

1995 was a decent year, Harrison played the last four games of the regular season after Mikhail Dmitrov got hit with one too many bludgers to the shoulder. An act that ultimately led to Harrison Rowthan playing Chaser and Victor Krum playing Seeker. They were the youngest male members in the league. The youngest person in the entire league was Amara Potter – one of Charlus's granddaughters and a reserve on Wales's Quidditch Club.

Victor and Harrison contended that a reserve player who had yet to take her OWLs should not count, but their complaints were mostly locker room grumbles.

Their sixth year was going to end on a high note in spring 1996. Harrison would turn 17 that summer, four months after Victor did, and a month after the two sat their NEWTs. It was also the year Bulgaria approached the Quidditch World Cup for the second time in the last ten years.

Then Harrison had to go and defend a young witch, Kaite Burke. Despite her family, Kaite was intelligent and refused to care if one was New Blood or Old Blood. She'd firmly embraced the Pure Traditions and did not care for the new intolerance the so-called Dark Lord droned on and on about during the last war.

Harrison just didn't think he'd get stabbed for his efforts.

Chapter One Officially Begins Here

Harrison "Harry" Rowthan, age seventeen, struggled to walk straight as he wearily climbed up the walk to the lonely lit house in the neighborhood. He hoped that whoever lived inside would be willing to call for an ambulance. He desperately needed medical attention - if his blood covered hand was any indication as he'd used his school scarf in an attempt to staunch the blood flow from the would he'd received from the muggers. He'd been too slow and the gaping wound in his side was proof of it.


Severus Snape looked up from his work. He despised the summer holidays if only for the reason that there weren't even any half-wit Hufflepuffs to scare on Spinner's End. Of course, the bright side was that he could fine tune the Wolfsbane Potion. He'd received permission from the inventor to use the formulae and alter it in the attempt to make it less painful for those who took the potion. His inspiration was actually a challenge by none other than Remus Lupin - 'If you can do better, good. Then do it.' In return, Lupin offered to be his lab rat… er, wolf.

He paused as he saw his outdoor motion sensor lights flicker on He looked out the window and put down his cup of tea on the mahogany wood coffee table in front of him. He didn't see anything but he knew people who could move without being seen.


Harry gasped and bit down on his lip as he hit the door with his fist as he sank to the ground on legs that would no longer support him.


Severus went to the door, more than curious as the sort of people he knew would not give him the courtesy of knocking. He went to the door.


Harry gasped as the solid door he was leaning on was opened from the inside and his side throbbed painfully. There was no way he was going to be able to Apparate to London if the resident refused to call for help.


Severus looked down at the teen who lay on his doorstep, the bleeding teen who lay on his doorstep.


"Please…ambulance… please…" Harry gasped out between spurts of pain that ran up and down his side. He looked up at the man who'd opened the door, the man in black… the man he could barely see.

"I don't have a phone." Severus said, feeling quite pathetic. "I can, however, provide you with some assistance. Once you are stabilized, I can take you to the nearest hospital."

Harry nodded, "Thank…" he began before he squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of pain tore through him. "Merlin!"

Severus couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at that, only someone with an affiliation to wizards would use such a phrase.

He looked at the teen; from the blood red scarf pressed up against his side, to the black turtleneck, blue jeans and even at the subtly expensive dragon hide motorcycle boots on his feet. The teen's concealed wealth was not lost to Severus, nor was the teen's stab wound.

Mentally sighing, Severus knelt down and began to help the teen his feet to get him inside.

Harry made it to his knees before a wave of paralyzing pain tore through him. He barely remained conscious. "Not… going to…last." he gasped out as Severus threw the teen's right arm (with it's blood-stained hand) over his shoulder and bore the brunt of Harrison's weight.

They made it to Severus's large white and exceedingly comfortable soft before Severus helped him lay down so his right and uninjured side was against the back of the couch.

Harrison was desperately trying to stay conscious, even when the man left the room for a moment and retuned with some fluffy white towels and a bottle of 90 proof alcohol that Severus only drank when he desperately needed a drink.

Severus had gone through his stock, only to find that in his pursuit of fine-tuning the Wolfsbane Potion - he'd neglected his own stores of vital potions including making and checking the expiration dates on a disinfectant potion and his store of blood replenishing potion… It was an amateur mistake that was now costing him. Granted, he could make both potions in twenty minutes at the same time if he set the water to simmer… but his foolish mistake was worthy of - of – a FIRST YEAR HUFFLEPUFF!

Harry eyed the alcohol wearily.

"Drink up, it's all I've got until the Potions are completed."

Harry grabbed the bottle and took a swig of the alcohol, sighing as it burned its way down his throat. He took another drink before giving the bottle back to Severus, knowing what was in store for him.

Severus removed the scarf and almost swore, it was a miracle that teen was still conscious.

Harry saw the look on his face, "Bad?"

"I won't know for sure until I banish your shirt."

Harry nodded and with a wave of Severus's wand the shirt was off and in his bathroom sink.

The jagged wound spurted blood sluggishly with every breath he took.

He poured alcohol to disinfect the wound.

Harry stiffened, and passed out.

Severus took care of the wound as well as he could before he came to the conclusion that nothing more could be done for the teen until he had the potions brewed. He put in a couple of stitches to hold the wound closed until the potions were brewed, poured a bit more alcohol over the wound and then carefully bandaged the wound - going so far as to levitate the boy so he could wrap the gauze around his torso.

He did feel compelled to change the boy's clothing to a certain extent. He removed the motorcycle boots off of his feet (which were mostly hidden by the long, dark and slightly baggy cargo jeans) and then used a switching spell on the jeans and a black pair of silky drawstring pajama pants that Narcissa had given him for Christmas a few years earlier - not that he'd ever worn them as he didn't care for silk.

He took the jeans from where the spell had thrown them over his coffee table and began looking in the pockets for some clue as per the lad's identity.

A wallet with about 50 pounds and a magical coin pocket that he suspected held a few galleons was found in the lad's back pocket. He opened it to find a few pictures of the teen in obviously better days. One included a recent photo of a teen with a girl with red hair so dark it was almost black with bright blue eyes and an oval shaped face, the caption on the back read: Harry & Katarzyna - March 22nd 1994.

He found a muggle driver's license in a slot near the picture: Harrison Jacques Rowthan; DOB - 01 June 1977.

He didn't bother reading anything beyond that, the rest was irrelevant anyway. He put the license back into the slot when he noticed a picture that must have fallen out of the wallet. It was of two boys in blood red, fur-lined robes. The caption on the back read: Me & Vic after OWLs 30/05/1992.

The teen was a Durmstrang student and from what he knew, had been a 4th year when he took the OWLs as Severus knew that Durmstrang took the OWLs in the 4th year, followed by Hogwarts in the 5th and Beauxbatons in the 6th. It was no wonder why Durmstrang students were considered the brightest in Northern Europe as they even took their NEWTs a year before the other schools - in their 6th year.

"No wonder I don't recognize him." Severus mused aloud. "He doesn't even go to school in this country."

At the couch, Harrison groaned as he tried to roll over in his sleep - instead he felt the pain in his side and returned to sleeping on his back.

It was then that Severus decided he would attempt to clean the clothing that could be cleaned at the moment - the trousers. He emptied the pockets to find a shrunken trunk the size of a small box of matches as well as a toy sized motorbike that he suspected to be one of the ones he'd heard about via The Prophet. The Ministry was actually permitting the enchantment of motorbikes to have a 'Quick n Shrink' charm on them for easy transport.

He cast a couple of general charms to alert him if anything went amiss before he threw the jeans into the wash with a couple of his dark blue robes - yes he did wear a color other than black - and went upstairs to sleep.