The Ascension of Harry James Potter

Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to Winged Seer Wolf for helping inspire me: my recommended reads are Harry Potter and The Ashes of Chaos and Harry Potter and The Power He Knows Not Book 1 The Reluctant Champion by ACI100, Life of the Independent by sukzee, Trickshot, Damaged Raven and I'm not a hero – Version 2 by JustBored21, Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man, Right Side of Hell by NeoMare, Harry Potter and the Founders Spirits by Angel N Darkness, Argent Knight of Pendragon by Ronin2106, The Court of Shadows by AlphaPheonix, The Return of the Ancient House of Black by Vahirum, Harry Potter and the Unexpected Friend and Harry Potter and the Unexpected Dogfather by CaskettFan5, His Loyal Pet and To Date A Metamorph by Just a Lonely Lorekeeper, Back in Black by IHateCheddar and Harry Black Book 1: The Hero's Return and Harry Black Book 2: The Rising Darkness by AuthorK

Key Pairing: Harry/Tonks/Luna/Astoria

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mental Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Review Answers:

WhiteElfElder: No

Winged Seer Wolf: An interesting thought, but not necessarily the one I'm going with for this story, my friend: still, I hope you like what's coming up, especially the fun towards the end of this chapter

Alix33: He had everything: that was what the whirlwind thing was that gathered everything together, including his wand, cloak etc.

Chaos Snow Kitsune: And, better news for you, my friend: guess who's up first in getting to know the new Harry

"D-D-D-Dad?"

"Yeah, little buck, it's me," replied James Potter, or rather, the ghost of James Potter, smiling sadly as he looked at his clearly-shocked son.

"And, before we get into anything else, let me be the first to say it: Happy 13th Birthday, Lord Harrison James Peverell!"

Chapter 2: The Last Scion

Peverell Island.

That was the name of the location where Mira had brought Harry, at least, according to the ghost of Harry's late Father, James Potter, who watched with a hint of amusement and warm pride as his son slowly wandered around the main estate on the aforementioned island. As he explored, taking in the sights and getting to know his new home – or so he assumed it was to be such – Harry also paid attention to what his Father told him about the place as he explained everything about the island to his son and heir.

"The Mansion has space enough for a small army, or a particularly-large family, with three Master Suites and several Guest Wings where those who are invited to do so may stay at the leisure of the master of the house. There are nine bathrooms, four large ones and five smaller ones for guests and when you just want a quick splash, three greenhouses, four training rooms, suitable for both Muggle and Magical Combat Training and even a dungeon with a small number of cells for prisoners, or any other needs you may have. The mansion also has two fully-stocked Potions chambers, most of the supplies of which come from the greenhouses, as well as resources kept in stasis by the Family Magic. However, both of them are also big enough to make Snivellus foam at the mouth in envy because of the stuff you can do in there: one's down in the dungeons and better-suited for potions that need to avoid the sunlight, while a second is up on the top floor within the main Master Suite: oh, and both of them are far more-aerated than all the Hogwarts Dungeons combined."

"Meaning I can study Potions here and actually breathe and think at the same time without some vulture-faced bigot of a prick with a grudge against the dead and a blind eye to anything to do with me hounding my work or my steps?"

"Yep!" laughed James, having joined his son in the main lounge in the Mansion, while he continued filling in the details for Harry, "Of course, there's also the lounge here, and a second one on the other side of the estate, as well as two ballrooms for social events and smaller parties, a rumpus room complete with an indoor swimming pool, not to mention several studies, an armoury, again both stocked with the sort of stuff you might need in both Magical and Muggle combat, and a trophy room. There's even a kitchen outfitted and enchanted to cope with the BS anti-Muggle negative effects that most other magical residences, Hogwarts included, give off. Then, outside, you've got the small wood behind the house, the beach all around the island, wide-open fields big enough for practice and pick-up Quidditch games and other stuff; sadly, no actual pitch, but the rumpus room has the equipment if you ever fancy a game with your friends and, finally, the one room I suspect you'll love exploring most of all, kiddo: the Peverell Family Library."

"Library?" asked Harry, turning to his Father from where he stood in front of the fireplace, just staring into the dimly, but comfortably-lit hearth as he had listened to his Father's explanations.

"Yep," repeated James, popping the p in a way that reminded Harry of how many people had often said his Dad was a bit cheeky in his youth.

Old habits die hard, he guessed, even for a ghost.

As Harry faced his Father, James folded his arms as he told Harry, "It's the biggest room in the mansion, namely because it stretches from the basement-slash-dungeons, all the way up to the Master Suites: mind you, the floor that's on the Master Suite level is enchanted so only the Master of the House can get in there, because everything there deals with Peverell Family Magic and stuff that should only ever be attempted by a member of our family. As for the rest of it, trust me, I'd be really surprised if you couldn't find what you're looking for in there because there's every magical topic under the sun and quite a few more besides in there: I remember, back when I was alive, I went exploring and went missing for a week because I lost my sense of direction."

Before he could stop himself, Harry laughed heartily, earning a fond smile from James as he saw his son looking so happy and well; at the same time, the ghost of a man cleared his throat as he added, "That reminds me: being such an old, magical estate, you have a small clan of elves on staff. Mira is the head of that clan and your personal aide, meaning if there's ever anything you need, you can call on her first and foremost and, not to sound like a spoilt brat or nothing, kiddo, but, living here, you don't have to lift a finger to do anything except what you want to do because the elves handle everything, as do the sprites."

"Sprites?"

"Ancient household spirits who help keep the house in order and respond to the needs and wishes of the Master," replied James, earning an ah from Harry before James smiled softly as he added, "Mind you, in order to wake them up, you're going to have to be fully-recognised and accepted as the new Lord Peverell."

"But, aren't I already?"

"Technically, yes," replied James, watching as Harry went and sat on one of the chairs nearest the fireplace; even though he didn't say it aloud, as James watched his son take his seat, resting comfortably with his hands on the arms of the chair and his back straight, but also relaxed, he looked like a real Lord and a real man instead of the weak, meek child that James had seen when Mira had brought Harry home.

Oh, if only he wasn't the kind of spirit he was…if only he was more like Peeves or even like a Wraith or some malevolent spirit…

"Um…Dad?"

"Sorry," said James, shaking his head as he returned his attention to his son before he went on, "My mind wandered: weird, I know, considering I'm dead and all, but, anyway, as I was saying, technically, you are Lord Peverell, yes, because you're the last scion of the family, through your blood as a Potter: my son and heir. However, for the Family Magic to fully-accept you and acknowledge you, there is something you'll have to do and, once it's done, though I wish we'd had a few more years before you had to do it, but I digress: once it's done, you will be Lord Peverell, as well as Lord Potter and, if it's legitimate, you'll also be Lord of any other families you'll head up."

"So…it's sort of like emancipating myself?" asked Harry.

"Exactly," replied James, perching himself on the arm of the chair nearest his son, which looked weird enough given the fact he was a ghost, but he didn't argue. "And, to answer your next question, the reason you're here now is because the ancient Family Magic has acknowledged you as said last scion and the heir, which, according to ancient Peverell traditions, gives you the right to claim your birthright on your thirteenth birthday, instead of waiting for your seventeenth like most wizarding heirs would do."

"Is…" Harry began, but, even as James encouraged him to speak his mind, the young boy felt like he had rusted nails and barbed wire in his throat as he croaked out, "Is…is that because you…you're…you and Mum, you're…"

"Dead, yeah," said James, holding up a hand quickly as Harry opened his mouth again, before James went on, "And, believe me, Harry, I wish I didn't have to say this to you, but, because you were going to ask it anyway, I'll say it now: it is just me here. Your Mum…she's waiting for us in the next life, if such a place even exists given how that snake-faced twat murdered us: hell, the only reason I was spared from such uncertainty was because my Dad, your Grandpa, Charles, had the foresight to anoint me as the Heir of Ignotus Peverell, not that we've needed to actually claim the family line, thanks to the infamy that also comes with it from Grindelwald, Riddle and others who've bastardised the name and power."

"Huh?" asked Harry, earning a soft smile from James as he cleared his throat before he answered his son's query.

"Our bloodline, Harry, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, is more than just one of the oldest bloodlines in the history of magic: it's also one of the last houses that could have claimed any ties to the Peverell Brothers, Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus: three brothers who, individually, possessed incredible gifts and extraordinary magical abilities. But together, they were a force to be reckoned with…or they would have been had lust for power, answers about mysteries that no-one should really have access to, and knowledge about the future and the true nature of magic not divided them. If you want to know the full story, read the Tale of the Three Brothers in the Tales of Beedle the Bard, but the point is, only Ignotus remained true to the legacy and, as a result, his heirs, like me, your Grandpa and, of course, you've had the right to inherit this legacy. However, not many know this, but for all his bullshit about pure-blood supremacy, Tom Riddle, aka old Voldie, is actually Cadmus' last heir…or rather, he was the heir, and had the same right as you, before you vanquished his sorry ass…a feat I suspect you've had to do more than once lately, right?"

"How…how did you know that?" asked Harry.

"It's the House," replied James, a note of cryptic amusement in his words as he explained, "Because my spirit's bonded to it and the magic within, it helps me understand my duties as your guide, mentor and confidant by filling in the blanks about your life. However, even with his body barely even alive, much less human, old Snake Face has no more claim to the power or this island than anyone else on the planet…save you."

"And…and that's why I was brought here on…um…today?" asked Harry.

"Exactly," said James.

"So…what do I have to do to claim it all, Dad?"

In response, James sighed before he chuckled as he nodded towards the door.

"I had a feeling that question was coming: follow me."

Ascension

To Harry's surprise, his Father led him down into the dungeons of the Mansion where, rather than lead Harry into a cell or one of the Potions labs in the building, James instead guided Harry towards the furthest end of the dungeons and down a second flight of stairs, to a lone door that, when Harry looked close enough, he noticed did not have a lock or keyhole present.

Seeing his son's bemused expression, James smiled reassuringly before he cleared his throat as he explained, "It's a specially-enchanted door, sealed with magic that only allows a Peverell to enter."

"Let me guess…" Harry began, before he held out his right hand and, going on a hunch more than anything else, he ran his forefinger down the door, from the top of the door's wooden form to the bottom. To his delight, as well as his amusement, his work was rewarded by a series of audible clicks and gears shifting, followed by a loud, audible, groaning creak as the door opened, revealing the chamber within.

"How did you guess?" asked James, half-awed by his son's theory, as well as by how easily Harry worked it out.

"I saw something similar in Gringotts," said Harry, stepping through the door as he added, "Back then, only a goblin could open the door that way; anyone else would have been sucked inside and trapped in the next room. Is that the same here?"

"No," said James, leaning in, even as Harry stepped into the chamber, before he added, "If you weren't a Peverell, the magic that's soaked into the very air of this chamber would have killed you where you stand!"

Harry suddenly froze when he heard that, though when he looked to his Father, he saw James smile sadly as he explained, "The Peverells weren't known for being pushovers, little buck: the magic tied to Life and Death was just one of their specialities, but, again, if you want to know more, check out the book and the story I told you about. Anyway, here, let me shed some light on this situation."

To Harry's surprise, his Father suddenly snapped his fingers, which resulted in his magic being invoked to fill the chamber with warm, darkest-red-coloured firelight, which burned along the walls in ancient, rusty-looking torch brackets, each of which cast long, dancing shadows over everything else in the room. This included, but was not limited to, an ancient-looking altar that consisted of a black pentagram, in the centre of which, Harry noticed a large, perfectly-cut black crystal, which seemed to be forever fused into the altar.

Behind the altar, Harry saw a large, black tapestry, which was decorated with several strands of golden-coloured thread, as well as a large symbol that was stitched into the top of the tapestry: a shape that resembled a perfectly-formed triangle, with a small circle stamped over the base and a thin, vertical line cutting the other two shapes in half, right down the middle.

Beneath the symbol, Harry saw a Latin inscription, the sight of which made him shudder, even though he couldn't translate what was written there.

Fortunately, James could, and did know what the phrase meant, as he proved when he smiled thinly before, stepping up next to his son, he eyed the tapestry with fondness as he spoke.

"Mors solum initium est: Death is only the beginning…not one of the chirpier family mottos, but definitely one that summed up the main charge and ideals of the Peverells. Now, what you see before you, apart from the family tapestry, is the ancient ward stone of the island. To claim your full birthright, you have to offer up your blood to the magical ley lines and the mystical energies of the house, the island and the family in general."

"Then what?"

"Then, you simply declare that you are the rightful heir of the family and that you claim it in the name of your ancestor, Ignotus Peverell: once that's done, the magic will bond with you. If your claim rings true, you'll be given the Family Ring and recognised, both legally and magically, as the new Lord Peverell, Head of the Most Ancient, Noble and Ephemeral Clan of Peverell: this will also make you Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, because your claim will also emancipate you and make you an adult, at least, in the magical world, you'll be such. This means, among other things, you'll be able to live where you want, do whatever you want, within reason, and be whatever you choose to be."

"You had me at live wherever I want," drawled Harry, sniffing once before he looked to the altar as he asked, "But, just to be sure, let me guess: if I fail, the magic will kill me?"

"Yep…sorry, kiddo."

"Don't be," said Harry, approaching the altar; as he did so, he was a little surprised to see an ornamental silver dagger with the same symbol and creed as the tapestry engraved on its handle suddenly appear.

Taking this for the meaning it was, Harry gulped hard before, picking up the dagger, he added, "I nearly died once before, Dad…twice, I guess, if you count Voldemort when I was a baby…hell, three times if you count him nearly strangling the life out of me in first year…trust me, as weird as it is going to be to admit it to someone else, I don't really fear dying…not anymore."

"Then that means you're either an idiot or a true heir of Ignotus," said James, smiling proudly as he watched Harry cut the blade of the dagger across his left-hand palm. Once that was done, the young boy set his hand down onto the black crystal at the heart of the altar before, to his surprise, he felt a wave of new magic wash over him.

Suddenly, he didn't know how, exactly, but Harry knew exactly what he had to say.

Drawing on this knowledge, the young wizard cleared his throat as he made his declaration:

"I am Harry James Potter, Son of James Charles Potter and Heir of Ignotus Aredian Peverell: by my right, as the descendant of Ignotus, and by right of blood, conquest and magic, I hereby declare myself the rightful Head of Clan Peverell, Lord of House Potter and Master of Death! If I am deceiving the Ancient Magic in any way, may the debt that all men must be pay be paid in full as penance: so mote it be!"

"So mote it be," muttered James, crossing his fingers behind his back, even as he watched a pale, red-coloured glow envelop his son's body.

After only a moment, the red glow turned gold, as in the same golden colour of the thread on the Peverell Tapestry, before it turned jet-black, the sight of which filled James with dread and fear for only a moment. Then, to his alarm, James watched as Harry's body let out an explosion of magic that swept clean through the phantom that was James Potter before it rose upwards and outwards, like an all-encompassing dome of magical fury that sent shockwaves throughout the entire island. As James' spectral body was actually buffeted by the magic, the late Potter Lord's eyes widened when he saw Harry's body shine with a bright, clear emerald-green aura that turned pure-silver, even as the magic continued resonating outwards, creating more waves of magic that seemed to go above, beyond and far further afield than just the boundaries of the Island.

The only question James could ask himself, even as he watched his son go through this incredibly-powerful magical emancipation ritual, clearly embracing everything that was being given to him, was a simple one:

'How? How can my boy be this strong and…that light…what else is being given to him?'

Ascension

Unbeknownst to James, his spiritual form wasn't the only one affected by Harry's power, or the magic that flew out of him when he went through the rite to claim his rightful inheritance.

Ascension

In a well-decorated, if not eccentrically-decorated office in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, several rows of instruments designed to do the sort of thing that might see anyone else sent through the Veil, if not sentenced to life in Azkaban, suddenly vibrated and shuddered in their slots before, one by one, they exploded, the force of their explosions so vast and potent that the glass cases where the objects were being held also shattered, covering the floor of the office in glass shards and shrapnel.

At the same time, the Sorting Hat was roused from what had been a peaceful sleep when he felt waves of new magic wash over him; magic so strong and fierce that their likeness hadn't been felt in Hogwarts for a good long while.

But now, they were back.

As he felt the magic, the Sorting Hat's makeshift eyes widened before he chuckled softly as he drawled, "He would have done well…but even I could never have foreseen the reason being this specific…and now, he is awake."

As he chuckled to himself, the old hat's eyes widened again when a loud tearing, smashing sound filled the office.

Before he could investigate, the only thing the old hat saw was a flash of silver and ruby, which flew out of the room, spinning furiously like a saw blade while, as the magical effect came to a peaceful end, what could only be described as a roar filled the office, startling Fawkes the Phoenix, forcing him through a Burning Day while warm, radiant light filled the office for a split second before it plunged into pure-darkness.

In the darkness that filled the room, the Sorting Hat heard one of the portraits of a former Headmaster speak out;

"The Heir…but I thought he was under the thrall of our not-so-benevolent successor?"

"No longer, Phineas," replied the hat, chuckling to himself as he waited to see what would happen next.

All the while amused at the idea of what the aforementioned successor might say when he saw how wrecked-beyond-all-repair his plans had become once he returned from trying to appease the ego of another self-centred fool who was as corrupt and unworthy of his place in the world as dear wise, old Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"No longer…"

Ascension

In a thankfully-empty house on the edge of Surrey – the owners of which had gone off on a long holiday, so their house was empty – a pair of grey eyes rimmed with more bags than you'd find at the supermarket suddenly snapped open before their owner sat bolt upright, clasping at his chest in awe, disbelief and wonder, all of which washed over him in droves as he looked around in disbelief.

This feeling…this magic…there was only one reason he'd be feeling it.

But, if that were true, it meant he wasn't where the rough-sleeping gentleman was heading.

No…

He was at the Mansion, on the Island and, apparently, going through the proceedings to go through his emancipation.

"Prongs," sighed the weary-looking gentleman, "You bloody genius…you managed it, after all; now, it's up to me to make sure that I don't make a stupid mistake for the second time in my life."

Rising up from the floor where he'd made his bed for the night, the man smiled thinly as he whispered, "I'm coming, Harry…and, on Lily and James' graves, I solemnly swear I will do anything to earn your forgiveness for my stupidity…for death is only the beginning."

A soft pop followed his statement as the man, alias Sirius Black, vanished from his squat for the night.

Ascension

At the same time Sirius felt the magic wash over him, so too did five other people, four of whom were elder females and one of whom was an alarmed, if not-terrified blonde-haired boy as he sat bolt upright in bed, his heart aching with a level of magically-induced torment, the likes of which he'd never felt before.

"What…what is this magic?" demanded Draco Malfoy, his eyes watering from the pain as he cried, "What's happening to me? Father? Mother? Someone: please…help me!"

"Draco!"

Looking up from his bed, Draco saw his Mother run into the room, her own expression one of alarm and horror as she too clutched at her heart, earning a furious look from her son as he asked, "What's happening, Mother? What is this strange magic I can feel inside of me? Why…why does it hurt me so badly?"

"It's a Family Tie," answered Narcissa Malfoy, earning a shocked, but also confused look from Draco; as he went to open his mouth to speak, however, Narcissa raised a hand, cutting him off as she told him, "No! Your Father cannot interfere in this, Draco, not this time: the power of this magic goes above and beyond him. It goes so deep that, if we try and oppose it, resist or ignore it, we will lose our magic and everything else that our family has gained from this."

"But…but we're Malfoys! Why would Father…"

"I never said it was Malfoy Family Magic that's doing this," argued Narcissa, earning a horrified look from Draco as the reality hit him harder than the rogue Bludger from the Quidditch Match last year.

Ascension

In a dirty, dank cell in Azkaban Prison, a head of wild hair and crazed, but bright eyes suddenly looked up in shock, alarm and even pained relief as a tormenting scream tore out of the mouth of the dark witch known as Bellatrix Lacerta Lestrange as she felt waves of magic far greater, but also, more painful than any other tearing right into the depths of her soul.

As she felt the magic tearing through her, Bellatrix's eyes fell on the arm that bore a terrible curse, as well as a lock to an oath of servitude she had once feared she would never be free of, until the day she died or the threat of him returning was ended.

Now, however, Bellatrix could only stare in disbelief as the Dark Mark on her arm was consumed by emerald-green flames that left a bad burn on her arm, but, at the same time, they left something in her that she hadn't felt for a very long time.

Hope.

And all thanks to one person; the only one who had the power to make right the wrongs of her childhood and her past transgressions.

Staring up through the bars in her cell, Bellatrix smiled sleepily as she croaked out her final words of the moment;

"Thank you…my Lord…now, my fate is yours…and my soul and mind are my own again…so please…whoever you are…please hurry…"

Ascension

In an ordinary-looking house in the South of England, a pair of darkest-brown eyes snapped open, accompanied by a shift that turned her hair pure-white in disbelief, awe and even alarm at the incredibly-potent magic she felt swarming through her.

"What…what in the name of Merlin?"

"Nymphadora!"

For perhaps the first time in her life, the woman, Nymphadora Cassiopeia Tonks, didn't correct her Mother, Andromeda Aurora Tonks, as she used a name that she knew her daughter hated with a vengeance. Instead, the white-haired witch stared in abject disbelief as her Mother ran into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her for added effect.

"Mum?" asked Nymphadora, her voice edged by surprise and disbelief as she asked, "What's going on? Where's the fire and what's with this late-night, early-morning wake-up call? I thought Mad-Eye was putting me through another assassination drill for Merlin's sake!"

"It's not Mad-Eye," argued Andromeda, moving to take her daughter's hands as she explained, "It…it's Family Tie Magic!"

"What? But why would Dad…"

"Not him," said Andromeda, swallowing hard as she told Nymphadora, "It…it's Lord Black!"

"Sirius? He's in Azkaban!"

"Not anymore," replied Andromeda, earning a horrified look from Nymphadora, even as Andromeda looked up at her daughter with a dark, but also unnerved look that filled every fibre of her being with dread as the elder witch spoke again. "And, whoever's doing this, I can also tell you with absolute certainty…they're not Sirius! This magic…I've never felt something as powerful as this: it's like…like…"

"Like it's tearing you up from the inside out and compelling you to heed the call or else?"

"Exactly," said Andromeda, looking to her daughter, even as she asked, "What? You…you feel it too?"

"Oh yeah," said Nymphadora, massaging her heart as she told her Mother, "And it does hurt, but…remember…I was fast-tracked through the Academy by Alastor Moody himself: compared to some of his drills and the headaches from his constantly-screaming about constant vigilance, this is…well, it's kind of soothing, actually."

"Soothing?"

"Yeah," said Nymphadora, though not before she frowned as she looked up at her Mother, "Why does that sound so wrong?"

"It's not wrong…well, not really," said Andromeda, a note of surprise in her voice, as well as bewilderment, as she remarked, "It…it just means you…you're the one, that's all."

"One what?"

"The one," repeated Andromeda, earning a curious look from Nymphadora while Andromeda cleared her throat as she went on. "It's a long story and a weird series of explanations you might find hard to believe, especially given our blasted-off status, but the short version is…well, let me put it this way…"

Sitting next to Nymphadora, whose hair turned darkest-brown again as her magic seemed to relax enough to hear her Mother out, Andromeda cleared her throat again before she licked her lips as she looked to her daughter with a worried, but also surprised air.

"Whoever the new Lord Black is, whoever it is that's triggered the Tie Magic in us, this same magic…the magic that recognises them as the new Head of the Family, has chosen you to be the new Lady Black!"

Chapter 2 and, phew, as big as things seem to be already, it looks like they're going to get much bigger: Sirius is going to do the right thing, Bellatrix seems…different and, oh yeah, now there's a Lady Black for the new Lord, but…hang on…what's Harry got to do with any of this new craziness?

What exactly happened when he embraced his new destiny as Lord Peverell and what will happen to him in the future, especially with such rocky roads and burned bridges with those who seem to be receiving a call to arms?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Sirius is in for a very big surprise, and then some: speaking of surprises, the aftermath of Harry's ascension to his newfound station brings more than just wealth, power and privilege with it: they say with great power comes great responsibility? Not if you're a Marauder's kid who wants nothing more than to live his life however he chooses;

Please Read and Review

AN: Portrayal

Andromeda Tonks: Angelina Jolie