Harry Potter: A Tale of Revenge

"Dear," his wife said, "who was the last of the Slytherin line?"

"Well… Rumour said it was You-Know-Who."

"And what is right of conquest?"

"It says that a line will pass to the conquer of the last of the line, so long as the last of the line initiates the conflict that ends in their death."

"So?"

"But… but Harry didn't defeat You-Know-Who, John Potter did."

"Oh come on, Jacob!" she cried, exasperated. "Can't you see what's going on here? If John were the defeater of You-Know-Who, he'd be Lord Slytherin. He isn't. Harry is."

Jacob's eyes widened. "John Potter isn't the Boy-Who-Lived? You are?"

Harry sighed. "Yes."

"Why did they abandon you then? Wait, why would they abandon you anyway? And why does everyone believe John Potter defeated You-Know-Who?"

"Three answers, Dumbledore, Dumbledore, and Dumbledore."

"What did Dumbledore do?" Sunny asked, she looked to be getting agitated and he couldn't blame her. How could anyone abandon their child, especially when they were so obviously magically powerful? He could understand if a family abandoned a squib, even if he didn't approve of it, but someone like Harry? It was unthinkable, despicable even.

"I could tell you, but it would put both you and your family in very real danger from very powerful people who will want the knowledge. Do you still want me to tell you?"

They looked at each other and nodded.

Jacob looked back at Harry and said, "Yes." They were in too deep to back out now.

"Very well. Some nine years ago, there was a prophecy made. A prophecy which said a child would be born with the power to defeat the Dark Lord — a child who would be marked by the Dark Lord as his equal, and who would have a power that the Dark Lord knows not, and that either must die at the hands of the other."

They both stared at him, wide eyed.

"Dumbledore decided that any wizard who fit the criteria laid down by the prophecy was too dangerous to be allowed to freely develop their abilities, so, when he realised the prophecy referred to me, he arranged for me to grow up with muggles, unaware of my heritage, and unaware of my magic."

Sunny was starting to get teary eyed now.

Jacob just looked on, stony faced.

"I'm still not sure how the bastard managed to convince my parents — they don't seem to know John isn't the true Boy-Who-Lived, but I have a few theories." He sighed again, "Dumbledore's plan was to keep me as weak as possible, all the way through my early years, through my time at Hogwarts, until it was time for me to 'face my destiny,' where upon I'd be rolled out to either kill or be killed."

"Wait," Sunny interjected, "why would you need to do that? You-Know-Who's dead."

Harry gave her a look.

Sunny shrieked. "He's not dead!"

Harry shook his head.

Jacob's mind reeled, but a loose strand tugged at him. Something wasn't quite right here, but he couldn't put his finger on it… "Wait," he finally said, "if You-Know-Who's not dead how did you claim the lordship?"

"That's part of the power he knows not. It's the same reason I'm so much more powerful than most children my age, and is something I am very definitely keeping to myself for the moment."

Jacob collapsed backwards into the sofa, still trying to reconcile the eight-year-old boy sitting in front of him, with the commanding, charismatic, powerful young man he'd fought against not thirty minutes before. "It's all so much to take in. I don't know where to start thinking."

Sunny spoke up. "We should start with the winter solstice Wizengamot session, and work from there."

"Right."

...

Daphne Greengrass, Heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass, sat in a garden chair, bathing in the mid-morning sunlight, practising her occlumency. It helped her focus and she needed the distraction. The feelings of helplessness had been getting stronger, like a fist squeezing her heart.

"Daphne, we have a guest for you to meet."

She looked up to see her mum leading—no, walking with…

"I already know John Potter, Mother," she said, disdain etched across her face.

The boy continued walking right up to her. "I assure you, Miss Greengrass—"

Miss?

"—although I may look like John Potter, I most certainly am not John Potter." He held out his hand, and, creating an over whelming sense of déjà vu, took her hand as she reached out, and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

This certainly wasn't John Potter. Daphne's eyes trailed over a very obvious lightning-bolt shaped scar on the boy's forehead. So, who was he?

"Harry is taking a break from business with your father and I suggested that since you are the same age, and will be going to Hogwarts together, you might show him around the gardens?"

She looked over the boy. Something wasn't quite right. "Harry who?" she asked.

The boy smiled. "Just Harry for now, Miss Greengrass. My family name is a Greengrass family secret."

Daphne's head whipped around to her mother who just nodded.

She returned her gaze to Harry and narrowed her eyes. If this boy was going to be all secretive then she had no reason to be familiar.

"Very well, Mister Harry. Would you follow me?"

"Lead on, Miss Greengrass."

.....

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