The Lost Crown of House Potter

Familia Ante Fortunam, Sanguis Ante Fama

"Family before Fortune, Blood before Fame"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was 5 when I found it.

5, when I found the secrets my family holds.

5, When I learned all I could about myself.

5, when I learned about my true heritage.

5, when I found my true name.

5, when I learned the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

??? POV-

I remember the day my life changed. The day I was left on the porch of number 4 private drive. I was 1 when it happened. They left me there after a man with crimson eyes came to the house. I was in my room playing with my stuffed rabbit when the man quietly entered my room. No one visited me since my birth. Not even my parents. They locked me away in the western tower of the manor. The only ones who took care of me were the elves. You must be wondering why I said elves instead of House-elves. It's because the house-elves were forbidden from ever coming into contact with me or providing care. 

See, I was born different from them. While my father, James Charlus Potter, had unruly brown hair, and chocolate-coloured eyes, and my mother, Lily Potter nee' Evans, had red hair and green eyes. While being my parents, I look nothing like them. 

I was born with wavy hair the colour of pitch. My heterochromatic eyes are coloured different than my parents. One is the colour of freshly fallen snow, with the same jewelled likeness of tiny diamonds. The other is coloured with liquid gold. Large doe eyes with thick lashes. My ears pointed like of the fae or elves. High aristocratic cheekbones, slightly rounded to give a softer, more angelic look. A sharp, yet soft jawline. Plump pink lips with a perfect cupid's bow. A button nose as well to complete the look.

To them, I was an enigma. My mother looked at me with disgust and would never hide it. She was always envious of my looks. My father would try, but would always have a smile that never met his cold eyes. As the heiress, and first-born, I would claim the inheritance as next in line. They thought they could off me to allow the title to go towards their second born. My brother, Adrian James Potter. Though their plan failed as the elves from the woods that surrounded the manor, and other beings would take turns caring for me. 

You see, to them, I was a special being. Told only in myths and legend. I was their Massiah, their Saviour, their Hope. I was born 5 minutes before my brother, on the eclipse, while magic was at its strongest, in tune with the earth, sun, and moon. I was born on Samhain. My brother the day after mine. Though twins at birth, we never had a bond, nor magical bond with each other. 

When the man came, I felt his magic. I felt the dark, seductive, powerful magic of a handsome man with crimson eyes and dark wavy hair. To me, he was perfect. Though I could tell something was off. His motion was almost robotic, like a puppet. His eyes were glazed over and had silent tears. My magic and soul hated the foreign magic. It was vile, old, and repulsive. I watched as an old man with a long beard entered after him. He had a creepy look on his face.

"Go on tom, kill her." He spoke firmly like an order. I watched as the now named, tom, held up his wand and pointed it at me. He looked as if he was in pain. His eyes looked less glassy as we locked eyes.

"I'm... Sorry..." was all he managed to say before they once again turned glassy. I somehow knew this would not be the end, but the beginning of something far better than anything I could have imagined. I was not scared as I looked him in the eye. With those words, I gently smiled at him.

"Avada Kedavra!" He shouted as a green light flashed towards me. my magic protected me by reflecting it toward the wall behind him. Where the spell connected to my head, before reflecting off, left a lightning bolt scar. With the spell cancelled, tom quickly apparated away leaving his cloak and replica wand on the ground. With the scar hidden from sight by my long hair, I slowly lost consciousness due to magic exhaustion. 

When I finally woke up, I was in the arms of a beautiful woman. Her hair was the same as mine, yet her eyes we a bright violet colour. She was slightly tan compared to my porcelain skin. We were in a forest. Many of the beings who raise me stood in the open field we were closing in on. 

"Welcome my daughter, to the Mystic forest. Here is where you will be raised instead of your aunt and uncle. Your parents left you there with magic haters before I brought you here." She spoke gently. I remember glimpses of the house and the words spoken by my parents.

"You are no longer a potter. We do not need a squib in our family." 

I felt something wet slide down my cheek. Reaching up to see what it was, I find myself crying. Why though? Why cry when the people who were supposed to raise you never even looked at you until earlier? The woman began to hum before rocking me. 

"Hush now little flower, you need not cry. For we will always be here to love, cherish, guide, and protect you from any harm." Papa spoke. 

Papa was the elven king. Mama was the Fae queen. My uncles and aunts were from many magical races. Mommy was magic, well that's what mama and papa say. I'd never met her before the day she brought me here.

"They do not deserve you, nor your kindness. Never trust Dumbledore. Your training will begin in 2 years." she spoke before leaving in a blue mist. That was the last time I saw her in person.