Hello all, here's the start which people have been pestering me for, at this point I hope it lives up to everyone's hopes. I will update on Thursdays, and chapters will be between 2-4 K. I know you will have questions after this chapter, all I can ask is that you trust me. You can now find me on Facebook, Mutt N Feathers, and I post updates, teasers and the like for all my stories. Thanks to my beta, Arnel and pre-reader, Stephanie for their assistance and general help. The story picks up immediately after the last chapter of "In The Blood", so if you don't quite remember everything, give the last couple of chapters a read through. Again, thanks for reading. MNF

Lord Potter's Own Will

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

By Mutt N. Feathers

Chapter 1:

Golau (Welsh)

Light (Modern English)

December 21, 1995

Avalon

The reality was still dawning on young Harry Potter as he stood next to his godfather, beneath the capstones on the Isle of Avalon. In the eyes of the Ministry, the Wizarding World and all those encompassed by these entities, he was an adult. He was free to make his own choices. He was going to be given answers which he'd been longing for. He was never going to return to number four Privet Drive and the despicable upbringing he'd endured at the hands of his aunt, uncle and cousin. He was going to learn more about his beloved parents. He had already made plans to live with his godfather, Sirius Black, and his former defence professor, Remus Lupin in a house which Harry owned in Killarney, Ireland.

The newest initiates stood silently, holding their lanterns and awaiting the arrival of the last members of the Yn caethiwo Amgarn, the members of the Binding Circle, the Lords and Ladies of the oldest and most respected Wizarding families in the United Kingdom. They gathered on this night of Yule to perform the ancient rite practised by their Druidic ancestors among the stones of Stonehenge. Dressed alike in their white robes, leather sandals, aubergine capes and white cassocks bearing their family emblem; tonight they would celebrate the power of light over darkness.

Carefully concealed among the long shadows the candle and moon lights created, a creature slithered close to the ground. Tom Riddle was considered a member in good standing, he the last wizard or witch who could trace his bloodline through the nearly defunct Gaunt line. Unfortunately for Tom, Lord Voldemort might not be considered a member, and certainly not one in good standing. Instead, he chose to come in his transfigured form; one which wasn't dissimilar to his dear pet, Nagini. Thankful for the overpowering magic the island held, his dark signature and presence were masked by it. Voldemort was more certain than ever there was a connection between the boy and himself. Unfortunately, the boy seemed to be aware when the Dark Lord utilised it, perhaps even had early warnings. He would have preferred not to have come at all tonight, but seeing through the Potter boy's eyes was deemed perilous.

He watched the elevation of young man to Lord Potter, as well as that of the boy's godfather. Of the two, he considered Sirius Black to be far more of a threat, if there were truly anyone who was a threat to him. Properly raised in an old family which adhered to the standards and practices of pure-blood heritage, Black knew of magics which weren't taught at Hogwarts. Additionally, it had been reported to Voldemort that Sirius was powerful in his magic, and controlled in his spell casting. The only thing which the Dark Lord did not covet about Sirius Black was his unshakable belief in good. If years in Azkaban had not corrupted the man's soul, Voldemort knew with near absolute certainty, there was nothing he could do which would.

The giant snake looked around the base of one of the giant stones on the precipice of the hill, and saw the face of the old man who truly could be a threat to him. Albus Dumbledore could take him down, that was undeniable, but he wouldn't. Years ago, only days before the Dark Lord had lost his body to that Potter brat, he was alone with the headmaster. He could have struck then, killing the one who was behind the war consuming the Wizarding world. Albus Dumbledore, however, chose not to act. Whatever would the young Lord Potter think about his mentor if he knew the old man could have stopped James and Lily Potter's extermination before it had even been decided upon? That was a bit of information the Dark Lord relished, and would share it with the Lords Potter and Black when the time was right. For now he watched the powerful and connected celebrate together, be they for pure-blood rights or not.

The final members of the Binding Circle joined the others, and when all were inside the ring of tall stones, an altar appeared in the middle. Patrick Cumberbrandt, the current Merlin, and his wife, Alvena, came to stand behind the covered stand, which now had a huge red candle in the middle.

"The wheel of the year turns on and on," Patrick began. "It brings us to and from each season, and from and to another. What will be is. What was will be. All time is here and now inside this sacred space. We pause briefly to watch the wheel turn, and we gather on this blessed eve so that we might celebrate this season of Yule. In this moment between time, we come to praise the bountiful Goddess. We wish to give thanks, and to feel ourselves a part of the relentlessly turning wheel of life, death and rebirth. Let all who would honour the Goddess raise their hands in praise and thanksgiving."

The members of the Binding Circle put their lanterns on the ground in front of them and raised both their hands high above their heads, palms facing skyward. They held them in place while Alvena spoke.

"This candle represents the life force which is our beloved Goddess. From her, the light of the sun is birthed into the world. Tonight we celebrate the longest night of the year. Even though all appears in slumber and death, we are not forgotten. Blessed lady, turn the wheel once more that the sun will return to warm us anew."

"Blessed be the light," the members of the circle responded, bringing their arms down. With a wave of his wand, Patrick produced a beautiful wood chalice, intricate runes carved into the oak bowl. Next to the chalice, appeared a plate of Yule cakes. Unlike the more plain cousins, which were used throughout the year, Yule cakes were sweeter and filled with fruit. The egg bread used honey rather than sugar, and then currants, dried cherries, lemon and orange peels were liberally distributed throughout. The peel gave the bread a bright, citrus flavour and the fruit adds to the festivity. Only used for this ceremony, the sight of them brought happy memories to Sirius Black. He reminisced over the Yule celebrations with his vast extended family and the Yule cakes baked by his great-grandmother, Hesper. His favourite was from when he was seven. Everyone was gathered in the old family castle great-grandfather Sirius had built. The place was even more magical than most Wizarding houses, but not quite as much as Hogwarts. He and Reg had their own loft, overlooking the kitchens. They were awoken early every morning by the amazing smells from great-grandmother's baking.

Yule that year felt different, even as a boy Sirius could feel it. His eldest full cousin, Bella, was engaged even though she had another two years of schooling to finish. Mother had explained she would be spending the sacred days with her new family. It didn't bother the little boy, as this cousin wasn't fun or nice. Astute enough to feel the world changing around him, even if he didn't understand it at the time, a very young Sirius worked hard to commit every moment of the celebration to his memory, so he could relish the moments as they flickered past his closed eyelids. Something then had warned him that he'd need to have memories of happiness, for days when there was nothing happy in his life.

Sirius didn't need to be reminded of happiness tonight, however. He was more genuinely happy than he'd been in years. His godson was with him, and he was going to help nurture him into the man his mum and dad would have wanted. As the cup of new ale was passed around, he was glad it came to him before Harry. Sirius and the portrait of his uncle had been so worried about providing a crash course on the initiation, he'd forgotten about the details for this ceremony.

Sirius took the goblet into his hands and poured some on the ground, a gift for the goddess, as his mother used to say. He had promised himself he'd never again drink of a ceremonial cup. He would share his portion with the goddess, in silent prayer that her creation, the earth, would always protect his only remaining family: Harry and Remus. Thus far it had worked for him. Sirius then turned to Harry, and held the chalice out for him.

"You can drink from it, you can simply hold it, or you may pour it onto the ground as an offering. There is no wrong choice," Sirius whispered to his godson, and Harry nodded. The boy took the chalice and looked into the deep amber liquid. He was struck odd by this part of the ceremony, having not had it explained to him. He wondered if his father had celebrated the sacred days; his family being pure-blood and all. Had he taught them to his Mum? Did they celebrate the pagan days, as well as the Christian ones? Unsure what to do, he simply stared into the liquid before passing it on to Lady Bones. She quickly pressed the cup to her lips, taking a sip and then passing it on. Harry worried he'd taken too long with it then.

It was easier with the cakes, each person taking their own and holding it until everyone had one, and Patrick said a blessing and they ate together. Harry enjoyed the cake, thinking it was like a good fruitcake. A very direct opposite of the hard, dark, crumbly, nasty tasting things Uncle Vernon bought for his employees every Christmas. Inevitably, there was always one left over, and Harry was given the darned thing. Granted, he'd always eaten them, and they never went stale, so when he was banished to his room and forgot to be fed, he didn't starve. This cake, however, Harry would willingly eat more of.

Patrick, Alvena and the altar disappeared, and three women moved to the far end of the circle. One was young, looking not much older than Harry; although he didn't know who she was. Another was somewhat older, looking to be as ancient as his godfather, the third was old, at least as old as Professor McGonagall. They were dressed alike, in white gossamer gowns and crowns of Holly and Oak around their heads. At one end of the circle stood three men, reflecting the stages of life as the women were. They were dressed in black outfits, their heads also wrapped in the crowns of Holly and Oak.

Harry was perplexed when a harp began playing from somewhere. It distracted him enough that Harry was surprised when the eldest of the women started speaking, and then the other two women sang something in response. Perhaps he'd heard enough of it, but it didn't sound like the Welsh Myrddin had been teaching him. Then from the other end the men echoed back. It took Harry a moment to figure it out, but the women were speaking of life and the men, death.

Suddenly the two middle-aged people moved toward the centre, she dropping into a deep curtsey and he a bow. They danced a very formal looking dance around each other. Harry was mesmerised, he'd never seen a woman like her before. Even the veelas held nothing on how this woman moved. Her body arched and twisted in ways he didn't know women could move, and from her hands silvery strands floated outward, making the movements of her arms more lengthened and dramatic.

Slowly their dance went on, until the man was eventually on his knees, and then on the ground. With a final triumphant flourish, she collapsed down on him, covering his body with hers.

Then all of them were gone.

Patrick returned to the centre to give the final blessing and it snapped Harry back into consciousness. He'd been so taken with the woman, whoever she was, and with the dance, he'd missed the end of the ceremony.

"You alright there, Harry?" Sirius asked him and Harry looked at him, surprised and embarrassed.

"What, er, yeah. What exactly was that last part?"

Sirius smiled devilishly. "That was the symbolic triumph of light over darkness, life over death. The sun is returning, so life will go on."

"Oh, yeah, I got that," Harry murmured.

"Entranced by Klytië, were you?" Sirius asked with a devilish grin. Before Harry could respond, he continued. "You're not the first, and won't be the last. She has that effect on men. Certainly did on your father in our second year when she arrived. Come on, I'll introduce you."

"You know her?" Harry asked and Sirius looked at him and nodded. "Know her, know her or KNOW her know her?" Sirius threw his head back and laughed loudly, a few of the others turning to look at him.

"No matter what Moony or the portrait of your Dad might tell you when we get to the Potter Estate, I was not a hound dog at Hogwarts. I dated several girls, but never more than one at a time. While I enjoyed snogging, I wasn't shagging my way through school. I enjoy flirting, but never put anything behind it unless I'm truly interested. While she is beautiful I did not go with Klytië. I left that to others."

"Huh," Harry said, not completely understanding. Just then something caught Harry's eye. Near the base of one of the stones, he could swear he saw Nagini lying in the grass. He took another step forward, hesitantly. After what had happened with Mr. Weasley he wasn't taking his chances. Harry knew it would be an awful thing if that creature had somehow penetrated the defences of Avalon. Opening his mouth to speak to the beast, Harry took one more step.

"Harry," Sirius called his godson's name. He was now standing next to Klytië.

Harry looked up when his name was called, and nodded to his godfather before turning back to where the snake had been. There was nothing there now, and Harry chalked it up to his overactive imagination. He took the few steps which separated him and his godfather quickly.

In the brush, the Dark Lord sank deeper into the thicket. He turned around and returned to the far side of the island, and his wand. He would stoically await the magical return to his lair.

"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked. Harry looked back over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought I saw...never mind, it couldn't have been."

"Alright then," Sirius said with a slight air of worry in his voice. "Harry Potter, please meet Klytië Dawnsla. Klytië, this is Harry, James and Lily's son." Harry, being a polite young man, thrust his hand out to shake hers. He was surprised when Sirius gently lifted hers and put it in Harry's.

Harry had never seen someone like her before. Her skin was quite pale, and her hair like spun yellow silk, and the combination made her look otherworldly, like an angel. But what struck him the most were Klytië's eyes, for they were all white.