Family Bonds by xXDesertRoseXx (HP)

A Wrong Boy Who Lived story. Harry is adopted (ish) by Severus Snape and grows up estranged to his brother the Boy who Lived Adrian Potter. Finds his own friends and is a genius at magic.

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When, after that fateful Halloween night, the wrong Potter twin is hailed the Boy Who Lived, how will Harry's life turn out? With a power he knows not, an ancient prophecy and one Severus Snape practically raising him, interesting at least is a given.

WC: 517k+

Website: Ffn.net

Chapter 1

The Dark Lord was contemplating. There was a choice that had to be made and, for all intents and purposes, he had to choose wisely. His dilemma was simple; a prophecy had been made concerning him over two years ago. That, on its own merit, was not something he had considered completely unexpected. After all, he was intending to leave an everlasting mark in the history of the wizarding world and thus had expected that, somewhere along the way, a prophecy would be made.

So no, it wasn't the prophecy in itself that had him immersed in his thoughts. It was the content of said prophecy that had done so; the mere notion that he, Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard of the century, would be defeated by a mere child. A child that was born as the seventh month died, a child of parents that had thrice defied him and lived to tell the tale. And, to his great discontent- and partially because of his long list of enemies- the candidates were three.

Born first, early on the thirty first of July a year and tree months ago, was Neville Longbottom, the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom, two of the most feared aurors that had ever attacked the Death Eaters' lines. The parents themselves had only recently defied him for the third and last time. Voldemort smirked at the memory; Bellatrix had been a little overzealous while extracting information from the couple and thus, the two found themselves locked up in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's hospital, suffering from the aftereffects of a lasting torture under the Cruciatus. That dealt with one nuisance and also left their son unprotected, under the care of a grandmother. The Dark Lord knew for a fact that finding and killing the boy would be a matter of routine for him. But was the Longbottom heir the child he had been warned about?

Born second was Adrian Orion Potter, son of Lilly and James Potter and older of a pair of twins. He was born a few minutes before midnight on the last day of July and, along with his younger brother, he was a better candidate to the prophecy, considering he was born closer to the end, ergo the death, of July. The third candidate was the youngest Potter heir, a boy that was born only seconds before the clock pointed midnight as his informant and close family friend Peter Pettigrew had supplied. The twins were born much closer to the timeframe the prophecy had suggested and besides, they were halfbloods. And as much as he would like to forget it, the Dark Lord was a halfblood himself.

It had to be one of the two. And it was in such thoughts that Lord Vodemort found himself standing outside the theoretically protected house of the Potter family at Godric's Hollow. And what a fitting name that was for the place the Potters lived, the Dark Lord thought acidly. The parents themselves were gone from the house, courtesy of Pettigrew, who had opted to baby-sit the children while they were gone. The only other two that could pose a threat to his plans, Peter had assured him, were detained by the moon herself. Werewolves and full moons don't mix after all and neither do werewolf friendly animagi.

Voldemort walked steadily through the strong protective spells and rituals that covered the house as if they weren't even there, their protection demolished under the weight of treason. He was welcomed at the front door by Pettigrew. He made a mental note to kill the cowering rat sometime in the immediate future. He detested traitors and the plump man would soon fulfill his purpose thus rendered less than worthless to him. Maybe he could let Bella have some fun. She detested rodents.

"They are on the second floor my Lord." The rat said bowing. Voldemort's lips twisted in a sneer. "In the nursery." Passing Pettigrew by without showing any indication of hearing him, the Dark Lord strode to the stairs, his black cape bellowing behind him. What a nuisance prophecies were! But this one had the possibility of becoming a force to be reckoned with in the future and thus had to be prevented now that there was still time. The door to the nursery was wide open, yet another courtesy of Wormtail. Voldemort walked in and stood facing the two cribs. There lay two babies, both sporting thick black hair. Not that it really mattered, since he would kill them both just to be sure, but Voldemort wondered which was which. That was easy to define, he thought. With a light movement of his wand, both children found themselves under a strong silencing spell. He had hated crying, absolutely detested wailing babies while he was at the orphanage; he would have none of it now. With another stabbing movement of his wand the boys were both suspended mid air facing him and shaken out of their sleep.

Two pairs of eyes opened at almost the same time. The first baby, the one on the left, had hazel eyes, just like his father and was crying loudly under the silencing charm. Vodemort, who had never bothered to ask anything more about the two boys but their names and the hour of their birth, guessed that one had to be Harry James, finding it natural for the child who resembled his father the most to bear his name. Because the second boy, slightly paler but with the same unruly black hair, had eyes of the brightest green, shining like gems, the very colour of the curse by which he was about to die. That had to be Adrian, Voldemort deduced.

And he didn't appear to be frightened by his presence, only alarmed as he stared at him with wide eyes. Strangely, if his eyes weren't green they would look much like… but Voldemort abandoned that trail of thought, finding it useless. The boy was about to die anyway. Because now that he had laid eyes on the twins, there was no doubt in his mind that, if one of the two was to defeat him, that one would be the boy staring back at him defiantly in his young age; the Potter with the Avada Kedavra eyes.

Voldemort briefly considered what a pity it was that the parents weren't there to be dealt with too. But having to suffer the death of their children, for people like the Potters, would be worse than death.

"Good-bye little Adrian." Voldemort said sarcastically as he pointed his wand at the green eyed child. The green light that had claimed the lives of so many before headed this time towards the child. And there, just seconds before it touched his forehead, the killing curse reached what appeared to be a golden bubble that surrounded the baby, the impact creating vine like patters on the unexpected shield, before the curse rebounded. And with his crimson eyes wide in shock and terror, the man once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, could only watch as his own magic turned against him. Upon impact, his body was reduced to fine dust, his soul being forced out but not departing the world of the living as it should.

And as the soul of the Dark Lord fled from the now crumbling -due to an immense whiplash of raw magic- house and a traitor followed suit, trying to save himself from the damage he had caused, the shield that surrounded the young wizard expanded momentarily to shelter his brother as well as himself from the falling debris. As the roof came down the shield took hit after hit, the only sound in the room being the cries of the hazel eyed boy and the crumbling walls. The shield started to flicker and fail, small unprotected patches being created on it surface as the last parts of the roof came down on the two children. And it was through one of those cracks that a sharp piece of concrete fell -surrounded with the soft light of the shield as it scraped it passing trough- and caused a deep gush on the right hand of the hazel eyed Potter boy.

By the time when the shield failed completely, the ceiling had given its place to the dark starry sky; the two boys were saved. Two frantic figures chose that exact moment to appear, seemingly out of nowhere, being informed of what had chorused inside their house from a dozen of alarm spells triggered by the collapse. With screams of "Adrian!" and "Harry!" they trotted over the remnants of what had been their house for the past year and a half, following the loud cries of their son.

"Adrian!" Lily screamed as she ran to cradle her crying boy, observing with terror the bleeding on his hand. "Where's Harry?" She asked scared as her eyes searched for her younger son. James ran over to Harry's crib to find his second born child passed out, seemingly sleeping. His heart almost broke considering his son was dead, until he perceived Harry's soft and steady breaths.

"He's here Lily! He's alive!" He said holding his son to his chest where Lily could see him. With tears in her eyes but laughing in relief, the two young parents made their way out of their destroyed house, questions beginning to burn themselves into their minds. How could the boys be alive? What had happened to Peter? And where in the world was the Dark Lord? Unable to answer any of the questions themselves, they headed to the one person who they could trust in enlightening them. They apparated, each with a baby in their arms, to the gates of Hogwarts.

It was over fifteen minutes and a message delivered by a silver doe -Lily's patronus- later when a positively panicked professor McGonagall came towards the gate running. She was completely out of breath and had to inhale deeply for a few moments, uncharacteristically audibly, before she could utter the password to unlock the gate.

"James, Lily!" She screamed and hugged both her once students as hard as she could while trying not to wake the now sleeping boys. "You're alive! All of you! By Merlin's beard, it's a miracle!"

"Slow down Minerva!" James ordered once he escaped from the head of Gryffindor house's death-grip. "What are you talking about?" She stepped back and looked at them surprised, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

"You don't know?" She muttered before shaking her head distracted, finally regaining some of the calm countenance she was famous of possessing. "Please come with me." She simply stated and entered the school's grounds, closing the gate behind them as the Potter family followed her inside.

"What is going on Minerva?" Lily asked as they walked in a fast pace. "We were in an Order meeting when the alarm charms we had placed over the house were activated. The house was in ruins when we got there!" Minerva's only answer was to hasten to the castle.

"Minerva!" James exclaimed as they ran to catch up, thankful that his boys were still asleep. "I will not take another step if you don't give me at least a summary of what happened tonight!" And to prove his point he stopped, his wife immediately following his example. Seeing the determined look in both Potters' eyes, the Transfiguration professor sighed and motioned them to keep walking.

"I'll give you the basics but we have to get to Albus immediately. He has been searching for all four of you for the last ten minutes; he should have guessed you would come here, but it's only normal for him to be distressed in a night like this." Minerva explained. "Your sons were attacked by the Dark Lord tonight."

"They were what?" Lilly asked feeling the blood draining from her face as the world started spinning around her, only walking still because of the adrenaline coursing through her body. She looked at her husband to find him looking paler than death and holding onto Harry tighter than was necessary. She easily mirrored the movement with Adrian as Minerva kept talking. "He went there to kill them personally." She then stopped and turned around to stare at the two frightened parents. "There has been no news of him since. His Death Eaters are fleeing. The Dementors returned to Azkaban. Rumor has it…" She stopped to steady herself and looked intently at the two sleeping children. "Rumor has it that he's dead."

"Dead?" Both Potters' asked in shock.

"How?" James questioned without missing a beat.

"I don't have the faintest idea." Minerva admitting as she began walking again. "That's exactly why you have to go to Albus's office." Being too shocked to even question her anymore, they did as commanded and the rest of the walk was spent in silence. When they reached the Headmaster's office, they found the old man pacing up and down impatiently, almost jumping in surprise when the door burst open.

"Lily, James!" He exclaimed and ran to them leaning closely to examine the twins, his eyes standing at Adrian's no longer bleeding wound and widening momentarily before he was shaken from his thoughts by an agitated Lily.

"What happened Albus?" She simply asked him and he motioned for them to sit down. It was going to be a long explanation and besides, he felt his own legs giving up on him.

"First of all, I believe we have to get our hands on Sirius Black before he disappears." The Headmaster stated.

"What does Sirius has to do with this?" James asked confused. "It's a full moon tonight and he's out with Remus."

"Voldemort managed to find and enter your house, disregarding the fidelius. That can only mean that the secret keeper, Sirius, has betrayed you." The old wizard answered gravelly. The shock he received upon learning the true secret keeper was only surpassed by the two Potters' horror upon realizing they had trusted their two sons to a traitor and worse yet, one they had thought to be a close friend.

"I can't believe Peter betrayed us." James muttered almost incomprehensibly. Lily's face was wet with tears.

"I'm afraid it is true." Came the grave response from Albus. "But he will be dealt with." He added decisively. "What is of the greatest importance right now is tonight's assault against your sons."

"So it's true?" Lily asked with voice thick from crying. "The prophecy… it really happened didn't it?"

"Yes, I believe it did."

"So is the Dark Lord truly gone?" James asked in disbelief.

"For now yes." The Headmaster offered. "But not forever, I fear."

"He will return then?" James asked confused and even more scared than before. If he did, then what would that mean for his children?

"I'm afraid that's inevitable; Voldemort always had too much a great wish to live to stay dead." Albus said closing his eyes and rubbing them tiredly, looking for a moment exactly as old as he was. "But that's where Adrian comes in."

"Adrian?" Lily asked looking at the sleeping boy in her arms.

"What do you mean by that? Is he the Chosen One then?" James asked never taking his eyes of his eldest son.

"I believe so." Albus said standing up.

"But how can you be so sure?" James insisted, not wanting to even consider his boy would be facing such a difficult destiny.

"I'm afraid it's quite clear." Albus stated and, with a soft flick of his wand, removed the blood from the wound on Adrian's palm, healing the wound in the process. His charm was followed by two gasps of terror; there, on the sleeping boy's palm, a red jagged scar, somehow resembling a lightening bolt, was clearly visible. "The scar is infused with magic. Very strong magic indeed, that feels nothing like Voldemort's."

"So it is true then." James said resigned as he slummed back into his seat.

"It is. And young Adrian saved himself and his brother tonight and with him, the whole country." The Headmaster offered.

"What does that mean for Adrian, for his future?" Lily asked, hot tears trailing down her cheeks.

"He will live a normal childhood, as normal as can be, he deserves that." Albus said after a short pause. "But after he reaches a certain age… he will have to be trained; we will do everything possible to assure Adrian will survive this." Both Potters nodded, not seeing any other alternative. The night at the Headmaster's office was spent in talking and deep contemplation as the wizarding nation celebrated the downfall of a Dark Lord and the birth of a hero.

And as they toasted to Adrian Potter, hailing him the Boy Who Lived, Harry was sleeping peacefully in a conjured crib, blissfully ignorant of how that very night would affect his life. Nobody bothered to check the youngest Potter for any scars that night. And in all truth, there weren't any. But if anyone had known were to look and had done so in time, they would have noticed a strange black mark appearing on the young boy's hipbone, before fading away. And unknown to the people discussing in the Headmaster's office, the two sleeping children and the celebrating crowd, the wheels of Fate had began to turn, signaling the time had come for a much older prophecy to start unfolding.