Prologue It was a dark and stormy night somewhere around London, England. Inside a little house out in the country Harry Potter, his wife, and his one-year-old son, Rubeus were asleep. Harry Potter and his wife were not ordinary people. He was a wizard and his wife a witch. But they weren't the only magical people around that night. The signal candle that was lit in the kitchen, went out when a cold gust of wind blew through the open window. There was a great clatter in the kitchen as pot and pans flew from the cupboards. Harry sat up with a start. He fumbled in the darkness for his glasses on the bedside table. He shook his wife awake and ran to the infant's crib. Rubeus was still sleeping soundly. Harry stood in front of the mirror hanging on the wall. He had a tangle of black hair and a ragged, lightning shaped scar on his forehead. The scar started to burn with intense pain when the door to the bedroom was flung open. The house was illuminated by a flash of lightning and in the doorway stood a hooded figure. "Hahaha! I've got you now, Potter!" came a high, cold voice through the darkness. There was a flash of light emitted by a long piece of wood the figure was holding. It was a wand. Harry ducked and grabbed Rubeus from the crib. He dived under the bed. But his wife was not so lucky. The curse had hit her and she fell, lifeless, to the hard wood floor. "Imperio!" the cold voice shouted, turning it's wand on Harry. The curse bounced off one of the bed's legs and into Harry's shoulder. Harry felt his mind cloud over into dreamy half-consciousness, and he no longer had control. Rubeus started screaming when the mirror and windows cracked. The hooded figure turned and left. Chapter one I am Rubeus Potter For as long as I can remember, my father has what most magical people would call a ‘Dark wizard'. He doesn't seem that bad to me. Except he was kind of rotten towards me as a younger child. Now he just ignores me. As for my step mother, Alicia Verth, treats me like a slave. Scrub the floors, hang the laundry, chop the fire wood all day. All she does is boss me around and my father, Harry Potter, doesn't object. I woke up one morning, from a peaceful sleep. The early sunlight streamed in through the dusty shutters of the window in the closet I call my room. I stepped in front of the cracked mirror. I had the same green eyes as my father and I must have inherited my auburn hair from my mother. I slid my round glasses behind my ears. I had also inherited my father's poor sight. "RUBEUS!" rang Alicia's voice. I could hear her high heeled boots coming down the hallway. Her white knuckles rapped on the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming." I muttered, pulling on my tattered robes. When I stepped outside she handed me the laundry basket full of dirty robes. "Wash." she said simply and strode off. "Dad." I moaned to my father, who was sitting in the kitchen, reading The Daily Prophet at the scrubbed, round table. "Do it." he ordered, not looking up from the paper. I walked out the back door where Alicia was pouring hot water into a huge, wooden bucket. The wash board was waiting at it's side. Our chestnut stallion, Excalibur, whinnied to me from where he was tethered to the paddock fence.   "Groom him after you're done." Alicia commanded, jerking her head at their horse. I nodded grimly and dunked the first robes into the soapy water. "You'd think they would use their own magic to do the chores. But no, make Rubeus do them, Harry." I shook my head Alicia's retreating back. She turned around. Her deep blue eyes flashed in anger and her dark brown hair flew about her face. "You watch your mouth boy, or I will beat you to an inch within your life." her threats were empty. Alicia had beaten me only once before and it had been barely one blow. She probably couldn't be bothered with me. Harry and Alicia hardly ever used magic in front of me. I was often tempted to steal their wands and try it on my own. But I was still an underage wizard. Tomorrow would be my eleventh birthday and in two weeks time I would be hopefully heading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I would be away from home for ten whole months, away from Alicia and my father. I wondered how I would get to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts' Express. Harry nor Alicia would never take me. My gaze fell upon Excalibur, he was snorting and stamping his heavy hooves. I had ridden him many times before, but it was always in secret at night. It took me more than three hours to finish the wash and hang it on the clothes line. The clothes line was a rotting piece of rope suspended from two old oak trees. Carved into the bark on the farthest tree was a heart with the initials H.P. and then an addition sign, but the next two letters had been scratched out. I was sure they were my mother's initials, but I had never been told her name. I walked over to the barn. I was sad to see it was falling into disrepair. Shingles blew off in the wind and the doors wouldn't stay shut. No one even dared going into the loft, the floor would most likely fall through. I picked up the dandy brush and hoof pick and brought them outside to Excalibur. I balanced the brush on a railing of the fence and started on the tall stallion's hooves. He stood pretty still while I did this and nodded his head in when I brushed him. I sidled up next to Excalibur. I took a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching and leapt lightly onto the chestnut's back. I leaned forward to untie his lead rope. "Come on, let's go." I whispered into Excalibur's ear. I squeezed his sides with my legs and hit him gently on the rump with the end of the lead rope. Gripping the silky mane tightly, I urged Excalibur into a gallop. He shot forwards, glad for the exercise and the rare rider. Harry and Alicia usually used him to pull a cart if they needed to go into a Muggle town. He ran around for a couple of minutes and gave a few playful bucks. I slid off his back when the back door swung open and I pretended to have been leading the horse in hand. "What are you doing, boy?" boomed Harry to me across the yard. "Just giving him a little exercise, that's all, dad." I replied smoothly. "Er- good, good." muttered my father, scratching the back of his neck. It was one of the extremely rare compliments my dad ever handed out. A strange hazy look came over him that comes sometimes. I knew he had something mysteriously wrong with. Once in a while, I hear Alicia yelling spells in the night. Then my father shouts in protest in a voice that is much unlike his own, or at least not the one I hear. "You'll have to ride him to King's Cross in a couple of days, because I nor Alicia will have the time to take you. It isn't that far a ride." He returned to the house.