The Potters

So, I don't own Harry Potter or the Chronicles of Narnia...Damn.

Thanks to those who have followed, favored and/or reviewed.

Note: The poll is up still, and will be until July 7th. Oh, and I'm going to be fixing up any mistakes made on the first few chapters because they desperately need editing.

Previously...

As he walked closer towards another corridor, the hissing became louder. Edmund was about to turn into the area where the hissing could be heard coming from, his blood froze when he heard a chilling voice.

"Don't go that way, Edmund," A woman's voice said. He didn't outright recognize the voice, but Edmund felt as though his heart was going to jump out of his chest. The voice was familiar, but from where he didn't know. She sounded cold, icy and dangerous, and Edmund didn't like it.

He turned around and quickly shinned his torch around the corridor he was about to leave. He didn't see anyone, though, and whenever the light from his torch landed on a painting, their flat eyes winced and their hands motioned for him to bugger off.

His breathing staggered and his eyes widened as he shivered. The room itself wasn't cold, but Edmund felt as though he just stepped out of a freezing lake. He didn't like this feeling, so Edmund did what he thought was the best option and he left before he could finish his patrol for the night, not giving a damn if he got an earful from anyone the next day.

3 October 1992

Lucy watched as Edmund poured over a large, leather-bound book.

"I thought you were looking for defensive barriers?" Lucy asked as he watched her clearly sleep-deprived brother turn his book's page. More than not, Lucy always found her brother in the library. He only ever left when he was forced out by Lucy or Madam Pince.

"Yeah, and I got nowhere on that," Edmund said, not bothering to look up at Lucy. He paused for a moment, and when Lucy didn't say anything, he continued speaking. "A few weeks ago I was patrolling the second floor, near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."

"So now you think Moaning Myrtle's trying to kill Harry?" Lucy asked, skeptical. She wondered if her brother was trying to play a joke on her or not. If so, it was in bad taste.

Edmund looked up and stared at Lucy with an unamused expression. "Yeah, so she'd finally have a friend here because everyone else finds her insufferable," He retorted before shaking his head and sighing. "Sorry."

Lucy put her hand on her brother's shoulder. "You're stressed, it's alright. I'm worried about Harry too."

Edmund sighed and Lucy gave him a small smile. "Did you find anything on the second floor?" she asked.

Edmund shook his head, his eyes becoming more closed off, but open at the same time. "I heard hissing and I was," He paused and looked around the library, which was empty of anyone but them and Madam Pince, who sat at her desk reading a book. "I was told by someone I didn't see to leave that area where the hissing was coming from."

Worried, Lucy asked, "Do you know who it was?"

Edmund shook his head again. "No," He said. "But that doesn't matter. I wonder if what Harry heard that night wasn't from a human, but a snake."

Lucy frowned as Edmund showed her his book, which was opened to a section about snakes.

She took the book and silently began to read:

"The symbol of Salazar Slytherin, snakes represented the Founder of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on a personal level, for Slytherin possessed the rare ability to talk to snakes. Whereas we would hear hissing, Slytherin would hear the words of any serpent he came across, including the beast bred by Herpo the Foul-"

Lucy looked up, wide-eyed. "You think Harry can talk to snakes?" she asked.

Edmund nodded. "Parseltongue's the language, though I'm only speculating it because there should be no reason for Harry to speak it. We don't, and neither did Mum or Dad."

"We need to ask Harry if he heard any hissing then," Lucy said as she crossed her arms. "This isn't something we should be happy to figure out, is it?"

"No, not at all."

Harry frowned as he sat across from Marcus Flint in the Slytherin common room, who was attempting to hide his excitement with disappointment but failing miserably.

"What do you mean I'm no longer Seeker?" Harry demanded as he stared at Flint in disbelief.

Uncomfortably, Flint shifted in his seat. "Well, it's because I realized...now that you'll be better as a Chaser."

"But Draco, Adrian Pucey, and you are Chasers," Harry said, confused. "And you kicked Terence Higgs off when you chose me as Seeker. Which one of you is replacing me?"

Flint frowned and wrung his hands together. Looking at him closely for the first time, Harry wondered if Flint had troll blood in him. He looked like one, and unfortunately for anyone around him, smelt like one.

"Draco's father offered to give our entire team their own Nimbus 2001's if I gave Draco your position," Flint admitted as he looked at Harry. "As great as you were during try-outs and in our practice sessions, I can't pass up an opportunity like this. And considering you have to use a Shooting Star until your sister caves and give you back your Nimbus 2000, I can't-"

"Risk losing the Quidditch Cup," Harry said in a bitter tone.

Flint nodded. "I'm surprised Draco didn't tell you this himself."

Harry frowned. "Me too, Marcus." He stood up and nodded at Flint. "Thanks for letting me know, will there be time for me to catch up at practice? Before our first match with Gryffindor?"

"You're fast Potter, so I doubt it'll take you long to learn the plays."

"And Draco?"

"Let's hope he can catch up."

Harry only nodded and he quickly left the Slytherin common room. It was only noon, and Harry knew he would have to go back for the night. He'd rather spend as long as he can from Draco, knowing that he was still asleep in their dormitory, which wasn't unusual whenever classes weren't in session.

As he climbed the stairs, leaving the dungeons, Harry wondered if Draco knew what had happened. He knew that Draco's father had visited the school last month, had he known then? Things had been...strange between him and Draco since his father came to Hogwarts. Harry had tried to figure out why, but Draco never budged.

Now, Harry knew why and he didn't know how to feel about it.

It didn't take Harry long to find Edmund and Lucy, who was, unsurprisingly for Edmund, in the library.

"Isn't the first Hogsmeade visit today?" Harry asked when he reached Edmund's table.

Edmund merely grunted while Lucy looked up from her book on magical creatures.

"Ed thinks he knows what you've been hearing, Harry," Lucy said, to Harry's bewilderment.

"What?"

"Where did you hear the voice, Harry?" Edmund questioned without looking up from his book.

"Does it matter-"

"Yes," Edmund interrupted as he looked up. There were dark circles under his eyes, making Harry wonder how many hours of sleep his brother got this week.

Harry frowned, remembering he heard the voice in one of the corridors, but not the floor. "It was in a corridor, but I don't remember which one."

Edmund groaned, as though Harry's words were an inconvenience to him. Knowing Edmund, they probably were, Harry thought as he looked at Lucy, who only gave him a worried smile.

"Did you hear any hissing?" Edmund questioned, causing Harry to look back at him.

"No," Harry said, confused. "It was a voice."

"Alright," Edmund said. "Were you on the second floor by any chance, or near it?"

"I don't know, maybe."

Edmund continued to frown but nodded as he accepted Harry's answer. "Right, give me some more time and I'll have a complete answer for you."

Harry frowned. "Why do you need more time if-"

"I don't want to be correct this time around, Harry," Edmund said, clearly not caring that he had interrupted Harry.

"What? Why don't you want to be correct on this?"

"Because, for once I'd rather be wrong," Edmund said and he looked back down at his book, ending his conversation with Harry completely, who ended up leaving the library more confused than when he entered it.

20 October 1992

Eleven days. That's how many days it would be until the anniversary of his parent's deaths, and every year Peter hated it more and more.

Eleven years, Peter bitterly thought as he glanced down at the book in front of him, covering the history of the Dark Arts. A Tale of Two Dark Wizards, its bookbinding printed in exaggerated colors only found at Flourish and Blotts. Peter, along with the other eleven Aurors-in-training had to take a course in the history of the Dark Arts, which was a lot more intriguing and irritating than he had expected.

Grindelwald and his war were featured heavily in the first part of A Tale of Two Dark Wizards, and it only made sense that Voldemort and his war was in the second part of the blasted book. Peter hated the book, particularly when it sung glory at Harry's legendary survival and the subsequent defeat of the Dark Lord, all at the cost of his parents' lives. Peter had read the section Harry was mentioned in, scribbling and crossing out anything that Peter knew for certain was incorrect.

Peter was glad that he, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were mere footnotes in comparison to Harry, but it annoyed him when the author of the books got their names mixed up or rearranged. Susan wasn't the eldest, Edmund wasn't called Edward, and neither was Lucy called Louise. He didn't even want to think about the middle names either. Peter wondered how the author, and the editor, got their names, among other things, so blatantly inaccurate. Then again, Peter knew that Rita Skeeter was a known gossiper and wrote only with a poison-pen.

"Alright, settle in, settle in," Peter heard. He looked up from his book and watched as Auror Theseus Scamander, elder brother to the famed Newt Scamander, waved his hand as some of the last incoming trainee Aurors found their seats.

"Good," Scamander said as he eyed the late, trainee Auror's with his piercing blue eyes. "Now that we're all in here, we'll continue our discussion of Lord Voldemort and-Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Scamander stopped when he saw several wizards flinch upon hearing You-Know-Who's moniker. Peter glanced around and was rather annoyed as well

"Are you bloody serious right now? You all still cower upon hearing the word 'Voldemort'?" Scamander demanded as he and Peter watched the majority of the room flinched or made startling screams.

Scamander scowled. "If you can't shut up when I say 'Voldemort'," the Auror said as he eyed everyone in the lecture hall. "Then get the Hell out of my sight and never come back. I'm not wasting time on wailing dead weight."

Peter bit his tongue to hold back the laughter that threatened to escape past his lips. The old wizard reminded him of Edmund, which made Peter smirk until he realized in full what he had thought and frowned in horror, hoping that the two wizards would never meet.

Peter watched as Scamander eyed everyone in the room, before he turned to his side, raised his wand, and pointed at the chalkboard behind him. A stick of chalk floated to the center of the chalkboard, waiting to start writing on it.

"Today we will start our discussion on the missing piece of Voldemort's war against Great Britain," Scamander said. "The one enigma that baffles and amazes witches and wizards to this day." He glanced at Peter, who frowned as he realized what the Auror was going to be talking about.

"Today," Scamander said as he looked away from Peter and the floating chalk stick started writing on the chalkboard. "Today we will be discussing the Potter family and how they differed among the families attacked by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters."

Peter frowned as his family's surname was written on the board, with his parent's names above it, connected to the name by lines. He ignored the stares of his fellow trainee Aurors, and he barely registered their loud whispers.

"Now," Scamander said, gaining the attention of the entire room. "Someone tell me the names of each Potter child mentioned in Skeeter's book. Eldest to youngest. The first to answer them all correctly will receive one less foot of parchment paper for the essay, which will cover the topics discussed in our lessons on Skeeter's book. As I remind you all, the essay is due the first of November during this time slot." Peter frowned but wrote down the date in his planner before looking back up.

"Now someone tell me their names. First, middle and last," Scamander repeated as everyone but Peter raised their hands. Scamander pointed at a witch with squared glasses.

"You," He said.

"Susan...Um Phyllis Potter," The witch said with a nasal voice. She glanced at Peter before continuing. "Peter James Potter. Er, Edgar Evans Potter? Lucille Lily Potter? And Harry James Potter." Her voice grew more confident when she said Harry's name.

Several people gasped when Peter started to loudly laugh at the witch's answers. The witch turned and glared at Peter, before realizing who he was and turned away as her face became tomato red with embarrassment.

Peter raised his hand once he stopped laughing, and when no one else raised theirs, Scamander motioned for Peter to speak.

"First off," Peter said as he glanced at everyone. "I'm the eldest, Peter Sirius Potter. Wotcher." He smirked as he looked at the embarrassed-looking witch, whose face was even redder than before. "Then there's my sister, Susan Petunia Potter. Next is Edmund Remus Potter. After him, Lucy Lily Potter. And, as you all clearly know, my little brother Harry James Potter." He looked at Scamander. "Should I throw in our birthdates as well, Auror Scamander?"

Scamander waved Peter off. "No," The wizard said. "All I needed to hear were names, thank you, Potter." The Auror looked at the remaining eleven Aurors-in-training. "Someone tell me why I asked for the Potter children to be named."

Hesitantly, a wizard in the row farthest from Peter raised his hand.

"Because they're mentioned in the book?"

"Wrong," Scamander said as he stared at the wizard who spoke. He again glanced at the group of witches and wizards before sighing. "They, like their brother Harry, survived Voldemort's attack on their family but no one talks about them. Merlin, not many know about them. No one knows why the Potters were attacked, how Harry survived, and what happened to them after."

The witch with squared glasses hand rose. "Rita Skeeter's book-"

"Is a disgrace to the memory of Voldemort's victims," Scamander interrupted, frowning at the witch, who pouted. Peter wondered if she was a fan of Skeeter's writing, if so, he'd stay clear from her from now on.

"Rita Skeeter," Scamander said as he held up his own copy of A Tale of Two Dark Wizards. "She's a terrible reporter. Several claims she makes throughout this particular book are not proven facts. She didn't bother to find proper sources for A Tale of Two Dark Lords, nor did she conduct interviews with individuals who were present at any of the events she mentions in this book. Which is why," He paused as he threw the book behind his shoulder, not reacting when it loudly slammed against the chalkboard. "You all are going to pick an event mentioned in Skeeter's book and write me the truth."

Scamander raised his wand again, and the stick of chalk rose with it. "Twenty-five feet of parchment, I want your hypothesis' in my hands next class on your topic. You will also have to fill out an outline, along with proper sources and quotations. If you manage to interview anyone mentioned within Skeeter's book, you must receive written consent that must be included with your essay." The Auror glanced at Peter. "And no badgering anyone for interviews. You will be respectful and if they say no then you move on and figure out your next move."

Scamander frowned as he looked at everyone else in the room. "No interviewing anyone under the age of seventeen, and no gossiping about anything your interviewee discloses to you."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lowering before he spoke again. "And you must apply what you have learned the past few months of your training and how it ties into your essay. You must talk about why learning the truth is important. Why having the full story instead of," Scamander walked over to the chalkboard and picked up Skeeter's book before raising it above his head so everyone could see it. "Half-arsed claims from a poison-pen gossiper."

Peter frowned, but he wrote everything down that he needed to as Scamander waved his hand towards the door, indicating that the lesson was over.

Peter waited until he was alone with Scamander before he approached the elder wizard.

"Auror Scamander?"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Why is this important?" Peter questioned as he held up his copy of Skeeter's book. "Why claim these stories aren't accurate?"

"Because they're stories, Potter," Scamander said as he scowled. "Fiction writing at its worst. The general wizarding population believes it's to a fact-based depiction of our society's history, including your fellow peers. You've heard the muggle saying: "the pen is mightier than the sword", yes?"

Peter nodded. He adjusted his messenger bag and held on a bit tighter to his book than he realized.

"Yes, well," Scamander said as he sighed. "That is true in its context. While the common knight wields the sword, they don't write their tales of victory and defeat. Aurors, such as yourself one day, will need to distinguish the facts from fiction. What you see versus what you read. Authors and journalists, like Skeeter, aren't the ones who witnessed events within our world but they are the ones who write the events because they know the right and wrong things to say. They manipulate what we survived. I want you and your fellow peers to know when the truth is being recorded and when it is not. You'll understand the history of the Dark Arts and the wizards who perform dark magic better this way."

Peter frowned but nodded as he began to acknowledge what the Auror was saying. "Thank you, Auror Scamander," Peter said as he began to turn around so he could leave. "I understand it now."

"Good," Scamander said as Peter made his way towards the exit. "Oh, and Potter?"

Peter looked back at Scamander. "Yes?"

"As tempting as it would be for both of us," Scamander said with a strange look in his eyes. "Don't write about your family. It would be the easiest and hardest thing for you to do."

"Of course, Auror Scamander."

"Good, now get out."

So, what do you think?

I know there might be some mistakes and might seem a bit rushed, so I apologize.

Please, review, favor and/or follow. That would be great.

Until next time...