"Petunia Evans," Lynn spat out, nostrils flaring along with her impatience for Dumbledore's calm demeanor. "You left my godson on the doorstep of Petunia bloody Evans?!"
This is a slight AU and a Sirius Black x Original Character
Split between the M...
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Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star,
One without a permanent scar,
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?
-Train
Potter Manor had three permanent residents, if you didn't include the family house elf.
Fleamont Potter was a jubilant sort of man, with mischievous honey eyes and a mop of messy, black hair that was almost completely gray. The only indication that he was becoming rather old.
His dueling skills rivalled his aptitude for potioneering, and he had gone on after Hogwarts, to create what was now known as Sleekeazy's hair potion, sales of which had quadrupled the family gold.
His wife, Euphemia, was a kind, heart-faced woman, but don't mistake her inclination towards kindness as an unwillingness to kick your ass, because Euphemia Potter will do just that if wronged, for she looked like an innocent flower, but she was truly a serpent underneath. She was a retired healer and just as skilled, if not more, at dueling as her husband.
The couple were a thing out of fairytales. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin, something that was rarer than basilisk venom in the wizarding world, as the rivalry between the two houses extended even beyond the castle's stone walls.
But fairytales always have a cruel twist. The evil queen, the wicked witch, the big, bad wolf; the Potter's faced a twist of their own.
For over twenty years they longed for a child of their own.
After twelve years of marriage and no signs of pregnancy, the Potter's admitted defeat. Until finally, a miracle happened.
Euphemia Potter was pregnant.
Oh, how they rejoiced. Names were thrown between the two. Arguments of whether to paint the room emerald or scarlet were frequent and arrangements for the most trusted healers to aid Euphemia's labor were made.
Then they had a miscarriage.
Everything came to a standstill for the Potters. A deep depression settling in their home, wiping whatever joy that their pregnancy had brought them.
For the next several years, after trying and trying again to have a child, the Potter's slowly learnt to live their lives without the prospect of children, and soon their peers learned not to speak of children in front of the two.
Then a true miracle happened, and James was born a healthy, bawling, baby boy.
James was a spoilt child. Not necessarily a brat but spoilt none the less. How could they not give him the world, when he was worth all of it and more. When they had desperately wished for him for so long. Fleamont had built him a makeshift quidditch pitch on their land and he bought his son the best brooms available once his quidditch talent was discovered, if he donated his older ones to the second-hand shop. He was sent a package of his mother's cookies and other treats at least once a fortnight when at Hogwarts, because Euphemia couldn't help but miss him terribly.
