Princeps Magia

There are hidden secrets in Wizarding Britain, and when Harry’s 16th birthday comes around, he’s going to discover who he really is - royalty.

Prologue

To the average person, Number 4 Privet Drive was a normal house. That was how it’s occupants - Vernon and Petunia Dursley - liked it. They liked normality. However, it was only a façade.

Petunia had a very unusual nephew. Harry Potter, for that was his name, was a wizard.

He was 15 years old - almost 16 - and would be going into his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the following September.

Harry’s ‘freakishness’ was the Dursleys' best kept secret. He had been taken in by them when he was only a year old, after his parents had been killed by the Dark Lord known as Voldemort. Not that they had done it willingly, nor treated him well. He had been forced to sleep in a cupboard for 10 years of his life, only gaining a room when the Dursleys feared being discovered by ‘his sort of people’. He had been worked like a slave, doing chores and housework and being punished without food or water if he messed up. He was malnutritioned with a short, thin frame, pale skin, messy black hair and emerald green eyes.

When he was younger, he had dreamed that some mystery relative, or even his parents, would come and rescue him from his hellish life. He gave up on it after a few years, and when he learned the truth about his parents, he realised that having a loving family was something he was never going to have.

Oh, but how wrong he was.

…::-::…

At an undisclosed location in Scotland, King James Potter, ruler of Magical Britain, stood overlooking the sea. There were tears in his eyes as he looked out over the dark, murky waters, for the next day was his son’s 16th birthday. His son, who had gone missing when he was only a year old - Prince Harold James Potter.

That day, almost 15 years before, there had been an attack on the castle. In the skirmish, Harry had been taken and James’ closest friends - Remus Lupin and Sirius Black - had been killed in the fracas.

He had been betrayed by his friend that night - or, at least the man he had considered to be one. Peter Pettigrew had sold him out, and had escaped before he could pay for his crimes.

However, James still lived in hope - hope that, one day, his son would return to him. And it had grown, at that point, for on every heir’s 16th birthday, they grew in magical power, often going through physical changes, and got a small tattoo on their inner wrists - unique to only the family.

He just prayed that Harry was found.

Chapter 1: Changes and Discoveries

Harry sat on the edge of his dinghy bed in the darkness, watching the repaired alarm clock as the seconds counted down to his 16th birthday.

As he did so, he reflected on the past year. Sirius had almost fallen through the veil at the DoM, but had caught himself just in time. It had been a very close call.

Suddenly, the clock beeped twice, signifying midnight, and Harry was overcome with overwhelming pain. It felt like his body was on fire and he was being run over by one hundred stampeding hippogriffs.

Harry collapsed on the floor, his mouth open as if to scream, but he was incapable of it. His eyes were clamped shut tightly, and he eventually lost the battle to unconsciousness.

…::-::…

When he woke up, the sun was just beginning to appear over the horizon. He groaned as he opened his eyes, to find the world had blurred around him. Slowly, Harry sat up from where he lay on the wooden floor, and removed his glasses, to check what was wrong with them. He was startled, however, when everything became crystal clear, better than he had ever seen it.

He blinked once, twice. Was he dreaming? Shaking his head in confusion, he stood slowly, stretching his aching limbs. As he got up, he immediately felt a difference. He was taller.

He had always been small for his age, due, no doubt, to the Dursleys starving him. Now, he was probably a foot taller, about even with Snape, which shocked him. What had caused all this?

It was then that he noticed the mark on his inner right wrist. Well, a mark wasn’t really the right way to describe it. It was more like a tattoo. To be precise, it was a red image of a roaring lion in profile, it’s jaws wide open to reveal gleaming, sharp teeth. Harry stared at it in shock. What was happening to him?

Glancing on the clock and deciding it was late enough for Sirius to be awake, he fetched his repaired mirror from beneath his hidden floorboard and called his godfather.

“Harry!” Sirius greeted, jovially, “Happy birthday! To be honest I wasn’t expecting you to call me this morning, but you have, so… Anyway, why are you up so early? It’s six o’clock in the morning. Normal 16 year olds sleep in, you know.”

He continued rambling nervously. Harry listened half-heartedly, but was, nonetheless, amused.

“Sirius?”

“… so I said chocolate, but Molly insisted on vanilla. Can’t you just tell her I’m right? I know chocolate’s your favourite, or at least Remus said so...”

“Sirius?”

“Ah… Yes, sorry, what were you saying?”

Harry smirked inwardly, but spoke with seriousness, “Something happened to me this morning.”

Sirius frowned, “What do you mean?”

Harry explained. When he got to the part about the tattoo on his wrist, Sirius’ frown deepened.

He swallowed, but continued calmly, “Well, some of the Order were planning to come and collect you later this morning. We can talk when you arrive.”

Harry nodded, “Okay. See you soon.”

“Bye, Prongslet.”

With that the mirrors went blank and Harry collapsed backwards onto his bed, thoughts churning wildly, wondering what on Earth had made Sirius have such a reaction.

…::-::…

“Harry!” was the only warning he received before he was nearly knocked over by a head of brown hair crashing into him, “Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry chuckled, “It’s good to see you too.”

She took a step back and looked over him critically, checking to see what had changed since she’d last seen him.

“You’ve grown,” she commented, curiously.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, staring at each other. Harry cleared his throat, “Uh, I’m just going to catch up with Sirius.”

Before she could stop him, he left his friend at the bottom of the stairs and ran to meet his godfather in his bedroom.

The door crashed against the wall as Harry opened it in a rush, causing Sirius to jump out of his skin as his godson tumbled into him, all gangly arms and legs.

“Hello, Harry,” he greeted, grinning at the young man who had his arms wrapped around his shoulders, “Trying to give me a heart attack, are you?”

Harry chuckled embarrassedly, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sirius grinned, “Just gave me a fright, is all. Now, let’s talk.”

They sat down on the bed beside each other.

“Where do I start?” Harry asked, anxiously, “I’ve already explained what happened, but I don’t know why it did, or how.”

Sirius frowned, “Let me see that mark you told me about.”

Harry put his arm forward and pulled up his sleeve, baring his wrist. Sirius gently held it, examining it closely.

“I recognise this,” Sirius said quietly, “It’s the mark of the British Magical Royal Family.”

Harry was stunned, “Magical Royal Family? Why would I have their mark?”

Sirius was very pale, “I’m not sure. Usually only the king or queen and their heir have it, and it appears on their 16th birthday, but I never saw either James or Lily with that sort of mark, and neither of them went through any physical changes like you have.”

He stared at the wall.

“Do you - do you really think I’m the heir, Sirius? That I’m royalty?”

His godfather shook his head, “I don’t know,” he paused, “But I know how we can find out.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in enquiry.

Sirius looked him in the eye, “Time to pay a visit to Gringotts.”

…::-::…

Early the next morning, before anyone else was awake, Harry silently entered Sirius’ bedroom, where his godfather was waiting for him, a jar of floo powder in his hands.

They greeted each other with a silent nod, trying to make as little noise as possible, before stepping into the green flames before silently whispering their destination.

Luckily, Gringotts at six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday was relatively empty, so there were only the goblins to see the Boy-Who-Lived and his Azkaban-escapee godfather enter through the floo. Together, they walked up to the nearest teller, where Harry spoke firmly, “I’d like to see someone about an inheritance ritual, please.”

The teller goblin looked over him with disdain, “Wait a moment.”

He got off his high chair and disappeared behind the counter, coming back a few minutes later.

“This way,” he instructed, before walking off, leaving Harry and Sirius to follow.

They soon reached a door, on which read a sign, “Gripetoe - Inheritance and Rituals.”

The goblin that had led them there opened it, before stepping aside silently to let them pass. Harry and Sirius nodded their thanks before entering, and the door was shut behind them.

They found themselves in a large office, with high, white ceilings and black walls. In front of them stood a matching black desk, behind which sat an imposing-looking goblin - Gripetoe.

“Ah, Mr Potter, Mr Black, I was told you requested an inheritance ritual?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded, “I would like to have one done.”

The goblin nodded, “Alright. The ritual will cost 10 galleons, which will be drawn from your account. You’re welcome to take a seat while we wait for the necessary materials.”

They took a seat, side-by-side in a set of plush chairs, as directed. A moment later, another goblin entered the room bearing a sheet of thick parchment and gleaming silver dagger. Gripetoe nodded at him in acknowledgment before he left the room again.

Once the door was closed, Gripetoe once again turned his attention to Harry.

"Mr Potter, the instructions for the inheritance ritual are fairly simple. Simply take the dagger and cut your hand with it, letting 10 drops of blood fall onto the parchment. The parchment itself will do the rest."

He pushed the two items to the front of the desk. Harry stood up and took the dagger in his hand, slicing open his finger and letting the required drops of blood fall onto the parchment. Sirius watched from behind him with rapt attention.

As soon as the correct amount of blood had been collected, the parchment and the cut on Harry's finger flashed blue briefly, healing his finger and causing black ink to begin to appear on the page.

Harry took it with him as it continued to write, keeping it face downwards as he sat down back beside Sirius. The office was silent - no one spoke. All Harry and Sirius could hear was the pounding of their hearts in their chests

Finally, after about three minutes, the parchment flashed blue once again, signifying that it was finished. Harry gulped and glanced nervously at Sirius. He knew that whatever was written on it had the potential to change his life.

Sirius nodded stiffly - a poor attempt to hide his own anxiety. Slowly, Harry turned over the page so they both could read it.

Inheritance Ritual:

Name: Harold James Potter

Birth Date: 31 July 1980

Father: James Fleamont Potter (alive, location - unplottable)

Mother: Lily Lucille Potter neé Evans (alive, location - unplottable)

Godfather: Sirius Black (alive, location - Gringotts Bank)

Godmother: Alice Longbottom neé Charles (alive, location - St Mungo's Hospital)

Inherited Titles:

Prince of British Royal Family (Current King - James Fleamont Potter)

Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black (Current Lord - Sirius Black)

Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin (Current Lady - Lilly Lucille Potter neé Evans)

Abilities:

Parseltongue - Through mother

Parselmagic - Through mother

Fire Affinity - Through father

Harry stared at the parchment, blinking once, twice. Sirius starred along with him, unable to believe their eyes.

'They're alive,' Harry thought, 'My dad's a king, my mum's a queen, and I'm a prince, but they're alive'

"Sirius?" he whispered, "Sirius, are you okay?"

His Godfather was still staring at the parchment unseeingly, his eyes suspiciously misty. He blinked, and they cleared, though his voice was slightly hoarse.

"I'm fine, Prongslet," he assured him with a small smile, "Just shocked."

It was at that moment that Gripetoe re-entered the conversation, "Excuse me, Mr Potter, but may I also see the results?"

"Of course," Harry replied, handing them over to him.

The goblin read them over carefully, his eyebrows rising higher and higher as he did so. He looked up at Harry, back down at the parchment, then up at Harry again, in rapid succession.

He then rang a bell on his desk, and the door opened, another goblin walking in. The pair spoke briefly in Gobbledegook, the newer goblin looking up at Harry with wide eyes. Shortly afterwards, he left the room, and Harry raised an eyebrow in enquiry.  Gripetoe shook his head, “All will be revealed soon enough. In the meantime, I have your parents’ location for you.”

Harry and Sirius’ eyes widened, “You do? Where are they? How do I get to them?”

The goblin smiled, “They live in a castle along the Scottish coast, not too far from Hogwarts, in fact. As for how you get there, I can have some of my guards arrange transportation for you later this morning. I’m sure you would like to go and collect your belongings before you leave.”

“Yes, thank you so much, Gripetoe!” Harry exclaimed, “We’ll be back as soon as possible!”

With that, he grabbed a still stunned Sirius and dragged him back to the floo, giving their destination before appearing back in Sirius’ bedroom at Grimmauld Place.

“Come on, Sirius!” Harry cried, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and excitement, “We’ve got to tell Remus!”

“Hang on a minute, Harry,” Sirius said, grabbing hold of his godson’s arm, “Let’s think about this for a minute. I agree that we have to tell Remus, but who else do you want to tell? I’m sure you don’t want the whole Order to know yet, and what about Ron and Hermione?”

Harry frowned, “I hadn’t thought about that. I definitely don't want the order to know. They’ll probably stop me from going because it’s ‘unsafe’. We should tell Remus, Ron and Hermione, but make them promise not to tell anyone else just yet.”

Sirius nodded, “Okay, that sounds like a reasonable plan. Make sure you’re all packed. Once you are, go and talk to Ron and Hermione. They’re welcome to come with if you’d like them to. I’ll go talk to Remus.”

With that, they separated. Once Harry had packed, he quietly knocked on Hermione’s door. She herself opened it, her eyes widening as she saw who was standing there.

“Harry!” she cried, “Where have you been? Ron came to tell me you were missing from your room earlier this morning. I’ve been worried sick.”

“Has anyone else noticed I was gone?”

“I don’t think so, mate,” Ron said, going to stand beside Hermione, “but she’s got a point. Where have you been?”

Harry sighed, “That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about. Can I come in?”

They nodded, and the trio sat down on Hermione’s bed, once Harry had closed the door behind them. Taking a deep breath, he told them everything.

His best friends were shocked. Harry was a Prince? His parents were alive? And he’d only just found out?

“Do you want us to come with you to meet them?” Hermione asked, her gaze wandering anxiously over Harry.

He smiled nervously, “If you’re okay with it. We can’t tell anyone - at least not yet. It’s still early enough that only Mrs Weasley’s awake. Just pack your things and meet me in Sirius’ bedroom, and leave a note for the Order saying you’re okay - we don’t want them to start a search.”

Hermione and Ron nodded, and the trio separated. Harry went up to Sirius’ bedroom again, to find both Remus and Sirius already there. The werewolf looked shocked, but happy otherwise.

“Ron and Hermione are coming,” he whispered, “They’re just packing their things.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

Harry’s earlier excitement was wearing off, and anxiety was taking over. What would happen? Why hadn’t they come for him before? Why had he been separated in the first place? 

What if they didn’t want him?

His thoughts were interrupted by Ron and Hermione entering the room.

“Everyone ready?” Sirius asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Alright then,” he said, “To Gringotts!”

Chapter Two: Reunions

“Here’s your portkey,” Gripetoe said, handing Sirius a rope, “It’s due to go off in about two minutes.

“Alright,” Sirius replied, “Thank you.”

He turned to the rest of the group. “Everyone grab hold. We should be leaving soon.”

They took firm hold of the portkey with one hand, their trunks shrunk inside their pockets and Hedwig perched on Harry's shoulder. Harry swallowed, anxiety beginning to set in. Then, in a blue flash of light, the five wizards and witch had disappeared from Gringotts.

They reappeared just outside of the castle wall. It was tall and imposing, with an iron portcullis barring entry. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Remus gazed up at it in awe.

They were brought out of their daze by a guard arriving, glaring at them suspiciously from behind the iron bars.

“Who are you, and how did you get here?” He demanded.

Sirius nudged Harry forwards.

Harry cleared his throat, “My name is Harold James Potter. My friends and I arrived here by a portkey obtained through Gringotts Bank. I was told that my parents live here, and we’ve come to see them.”

…::-::…

James Potter awoke on the morning of the first of August feeling strange. He frowned as he stretched, checking to see if Lily was still lying beside him. She wasn’t.

Sighing he got up and walked over to the large window that overlooked the hills, finding his wife standing there, her eyes glazed over.

“Lily?”

She blinked and turned towards him, a small, sad smile on her face, “I thought you were asleep.”

James shrugged, “I was. I just feel… weird.”

Lily frowned, “Weird? Weird how? Are you sick?”

“No, no, nothing like that, it's just - I feel like something’s going to happen.”

They stared out the window a few minutes longer, before getting dressed and going down to breakfast.

…::-::…

James was reading World News while eating some toast when a guard came rushing in.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “There is a group of people here who demand to see you.”

James frowned, and Lily looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Can it wait?”

The guard hesitated, “Probably not, sir. You see, one of them claimed to be Harold James Potter.”

Immediately, their breakfast was forgotten.

…::-::…

By this point, Harry’s anxiety was through the roof. What if they refused to see him? What if they didn’t believe him? And, what if they did, but didn’t want him anyway?

Harry was pacing up and down the small room in which they were waiting, with four pairs of eyes watching him back and forth.

They were interrupted by the door being opened and the guard from before saying, “His Majesty will see you now.”

Everyone swallowed nervously, and followed him out of the room.

…::-::…

James was stressing. Scratch that, he was freaking out. Lily was walking beside him, her face pale, steps carefully controlled so that she didn’t just break out into a full on sprint. They stopped abruptly outside the doors to the room where they would meet him - the boy who could potentially be their long lost son.

They looked at each other, eyes full of hope and fear, and together, they turned the handle.

The sight that met them was not one they had expected. Inside, there were five people - three teenagers and two adults. But it was one of the boys who caught their attention - the one with messy black hair and emerald eyes.

The two groups were silent, looking over each other anxiously, each one daring to hope, but afraid of being let down.

It was then that James really took in the appearance of the two adults at the back, and his heart skipped a beat. Sirius and Remus, older than they had been when he had last seen them, but them all the same. But, Dumbledore had told him they had died. How were they there?

He was brought out of his thoughts by Lily, who stepped closer to the black-haired boy, her eyes sparkling with tears, and James followed a step behind her.

“Harry?” she whispered, timidly, reaching her hand out towards him.

He nodded fervently, his eyes, too, filled with tears, his face overcome with emotion that could not be faked.

It was all that Lily and James needed. They wrapped Harry up in their arms as the tears fell, unable to speak but so inexplicably happy.

Behind them, Remus, Sirius and Hermione began to cry, and even Ron, trying to retain his ‘manly’ image, sniffed a little.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, but was in fact only a minute, the three separated, and James walked hesitantly towards Sirius and Remus.

“I was told you were dead,” he said, “How do I know that it’s really you?”

Remus and Sirius consulted each other silently with a shared look, before Sirius rapidly turned into Padfoot, who barked and wagged his tail wildly, before changing back.

Sirius grinned lopsidedly at James’ stunned face, “You should know, Prongs, that us Marauders never stay down for long.”

…::-::…

After another hour, during which many more hugs and tears were shared, Harry introduced his parents to Ron and Hermione.

They spent the rest of the morning taking a tour of the castle. Lily and James themselves led them around, despite the number of servants who could’ve done it, but they wanted to spend time and do meaningful things with their family themselves.

After a while, Sirius, Ron, Remus and Hermione seemed to realise that Harry and his parents needed some time alone, and although Sirius and Remus were reluctant to leave after being reunited with their friends, they left them alone in the master bedroom. Harry took a seat in the middle of the large bed, with one parent on either side.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, each one absorbed in their own thoughts. Eventually, Lily spoke, prompting Harry to look up at her.

“Harry, do you feel alright with telling us what’s happened to you these past 15 years?”

Harry hesitated. Would he? He knew they would have to be told some time - he couldn’t keep it a secret forever - but he wasn’t sure if he was ready. After all, he had only just found out that his parents were alive that morning. But, then again, they were his parents, the people he had longed for his whole life, who loved him unconditionally, no matter what. If he couldn’t tell them, then who could he tell?

“Alright.”

And so he began, starting with the story of his supposed defeat of Voldemort. Considering that his parents were, in fact, alive, he wasn’t sure he believed that stupid story, or the prophecy, for that matter, anymore.

He continued on with his life at the Dursleys’, causing both he and his dad to have to restrain Lily in order to stop her from going to hex her sister there and then.

Once they’d managed to calm her down, Harry explained his introduction to the Wizarding World, and his first year at Hogwarts, leaving no detail out, including meeting Ron and Hermione. His parents were horrified to hear that Voldemort had been possessing his teacher, who, in the end, had to be defeated by an 11-year-old boy. Dumbledore had a lot to answer for.

He then continued with his second year, telling them about his Parseltounge ability - which he now knew he inherited from his mom, not Voldemort, so he felt a lot better about it - and about the petrifications. He went on to explain Hermione’s clue and going down to the Chamber with Ron and Lockhart, and rescuing Ginny from Tom and his Basilisk. He tried to write off his poisoning as not important, but his parents weren’t having it. Lily began crying, and wrapped her arms around him, no doubt realising just how close he had come to death.

He then went on to his third year, and his blowing up of Marge, and seeing a large, black dog on the street. He continued with meeting Remus on the train, the Dementor incident, and later his Patronous lessons. He spoke about the missing Scabbers, and discovering that night in the Shrieking Shack, with Wormtail, and the incidents afterwards. James cried out indignantly at Fudge’s dismissal of Sirius’ innocence, and said it was something they would deal with as soon as possible. Harry smiled. It was good to know that his godfather would finally get the freedom he deserved.

With that, Harry nervously went onto his fourth year. He knew, internally, that it was possibly the worst year of his life, with his fifth year coming a close second. James and Lily were stupefied when he told them about his name coming out of the Goblet, and indignant on his behalf that nobody believed him. They only got more and more upset as he went on, talking about the first task, the ball the second task, and, finally, the third task - the return of Voldemort. Harry was ashamed when he actually began to cry whilst describing Cedric’s death, but his parents comforted him, wrapping him up in their arms and holding him close as the tears slid down his cheeks.

They sat like that for a few minutes longer, a bundle of warmth and love, before Harry finally felt calm enough to continue. And so, he spoke about his faith, and most recent year at Hogwarts. He told his parents about Umbridge and her awful teaching, and evil detentions. He told them about the DA and their later betrayal. He hesitated slightly before telling them about one of the worst nights of his life, when Sirius had come so close to death. He told them about the nightmares he had had afterwards, where his godfather hadn’t been so lucky, hadn’t made it, and he heard the prophecy that had ruled his life at last.

It was traumatic for Harry, reliving the worst times of his life, but also very therapeutic. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, now that he wasn’t bearing the weight of his burdens by himself.

And so, surrounded by the warmth and love of his parents, he quietly dozed off, sleeping peacefully for what seemed the first time in years.

…::-::….

James and Lily left the room quietly, careful not to disturb their sleeping so. They knew that their talk had dragged up bad memories for Harry, but it had been necessary. They needed to know what had happened while he had been missing, but it also gave them a lot to think about. Just why had Dumbledore fed Harry that story, told him they’d died? And where had he really gotten that scar? It hadn’t been there when he had been taken.

They decided it was time to pay the other two Marauders a visit.