Raised by a Scoundrel

Chapter 1: Flight from the Cottage

It was Halloween night, 1981 in Godric's Hollow of West Country in England.  An evil night by all accounts.  A man with waxy features corrupted by magic’s most dark arts appeared with a crack. The man was tall and pale, wrapped in a dark black cloak, he starred at an empty hillside. With another crack a short, fat, rat of a man appeared next to him and handed the dark man a slip of paper on it was written an address: Potter Cottage Godric’s Hollow, West Country.

When he looked up where once he saw an empty hill, he now saw a simple cottage.  With a faint smile he stepped through the gate.

Inside the house, an alarm sounded from the ring on the hand of the man with unruly black hair and glasses, someone had breached his wards.  They, he and his red-haired, green eyed wife had prepared for this day and had wired the house with muggle explosives and constructed a hidden tunnel to escape in. 

“Lily get Harry, I’ll hold him off.” He said to his wife as he glanced out the window.

Holding her son, she ran to the escape route.  Before she shut the trapdoor behind her she heard the evil man enter the cottage.

As she ran she sent two spells behind her; the first set off the explosives, the second caved in the tunnel so she wouldn’t leave a trail to follow.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, but was really only a half hour, she stopped and sent a messenger patronus to her husbands most trusted friends, a doe which said this:

“Padfoot, Moony. Prongs is dead.  So is old moldy, boy’s alive, we took plan b.”

Within 5 minutes both men appeared with cracks near her.

“What happened Lils?” asked the one called Padfoot.

“Voldemort, attacked us, Wormtail was with him and he had his wand.” replied Lily.

“I’ll tell Dumbledore, he’s going to assume Padfoot was the secret-keeper.” Added Moony.

“No. Let’s get somewhere safe and see what he does first.” Decided Lily, “I don’t entirely trust him after this, he was the one who told us to hide in that cottage instead of the more defended Manor.”

Back at the wreckage of Potter Cottage

“YOU SAID YOU WOULD KEEP HER SAFE.” Roared a greasy black haired man, while pointing a stick at an old bearded man in flowing robes.

“They put their faith in the wrong man, Severus.” Replied the bearded man, whose name was Albus Dumbledore.

“Black!” cursed Severus.

“I think not,” answered Dumbledore, “look Pettigrew is dead and he would have been watchin the house from where he fell, with his wand.”

By the next day the Daily Prophet, Wizarding Britain’s main newspaper contained the headlines:

POTTER COTTAGE DESTROYED, POTTER FAMILY KILLED?

YOU-KNOW-WHO DEAD AS WELL?

Tomorrow somewhere in England

Lily had sent a letter sealed with her blood and instructions to notify her if anyone tried to access the potter family vaults, as well as letting the bank know that she and Harry were alive.  They were hidden in one of Padfoot’s safe houses.

As an owl emerged in the distance the three adults drew their wands. A letter with the seal of Gringotts, the wizard bank, fell through the window. 

Lady Potter,

            First let me send my condolences for the loss of your husband, Lord Potter.

            Second, an attempt was made by Albus Dumbledore to gain control of the accounts, naturally we refused since you are neither dead, nor is he named as a beneficiary or heir of the late Lord Potter.

            While you did not need to contact us to inform us of your survival since we have our own ways of knowing if  our clients are dead.

May your gold flow and your enemies perish,

Ragnok

Account Manager of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter

As Lily finished reading the letter she handed it to Padfoot, who began to swear violently.

“FUCK, That meddling old blasted fool, why would he try to access your vaults?”

“I don’t know but maybe we should hide for a while, while we try to sort this out and there are no Death Eaters after us.”

“Good Idea, I think I have some friends in America we would be safe with.”

“Sounds good.”