Towards a Brighter Future

Author's Note:

Sorry for the late chapter. Been getting seriously busy with work and my writing time is slowly decreasing as our deadline draws closer. This is a significantly shorter chapter than I wanted it to be, but I couldn't really add much more to this.

I've been getting a lot of reviews that are concerned that I've "nerfed" Harry. This is not the case.

I have huge plans for this story. To me, this isn't going to be limited to what amounts to a dimensional crossing fix it fic that will get everything over and done with once Voldemort is dead. When I said I wanted to take the time to expland the universe, I truly meant it. I'm working on planning a long journey that features several mythical figures and deities that will affect Harry's path through this new reality. He will be extremely powerful, but he won't start off that way. It will be a journey to the top, and I hope that you all will accompany me by reading along.

Along with the world as a whole, I want to also include brief interludes that talk about the history of the Wizarding World. I started down this path with the explanation in my last chapter regarding the Purebloods and their advantages. I plan on completely revamping some of the inner workings of the Ministry, and also how these changes have affected known characters. There will be several OCs interacting with Harry that will start once we move to the more political arc of the story.

Keep in mind, I'm in it for the long haul. I have big plans for this story and don't see myself stopping anywhere before at least 500k words, but I'll most likely pass that, no matter how long it's going to take.

I genuinely appreciate all of your constructive criticism and suggestions, but I want to say that I have a clear plan of where I want my story to go. I ask you all to be patient with me as I build the world and build up Harry's character within it.

It might get a little angsty at times as I want to introduce some character growth through interactions he has with the denizens of the new world he finds himself in. With his past, it is going to be hard for him to associate the feelings he has from his memories with what the person is like in the reality he finds himself in. I want to make that one of the primary focuses in the beginning so he can start his journey of badassery and not constantly look back.

Some of you are wondering where Rose and Fleur are. Don't worry, you'll meet them in the next couple of chapters. There will be a large timeskip afterward, so we'll get to the nitty gritty of the story when Archer turns 13. I'm gonna try and explain his history well, hopefully you guys will enjoy and understand my explanation. Some flashbacks will be there too, so look forward to it.

Sorry for rambling. Let's get on with the chapter!

--------------------------------

Archer observed his room from the door. It was neat and clean, without a hint of personal touch. While his roommates had taken to sticking posters of Quidditch teams and decking their rooms with festive items to show their Yule spirit, his was empty. It looked almost clinical in appearance, as if a child hadn't been living in it for months. Not a single Quidditch poster, or family picture adorned the walls or shelves.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thought. After catching himself for what felt like the tenth time in the last couple of hours, he attempted to ignore the new feelings he was experiencing. It was safe to say that his conversation with Laura Thebault had affected him on a deep psychological level. It had shaken loose things that he had tried his utmost to bury.

Since their conversation, he had been in a perpetual state of reflection that brought dark thoughts to the forefront of his mind. Memories that he had steadfastly ignored, never to be addressed for a long time. How foolish was he to think that he could outrun his past life?

Fate's final words during their meeting had stuck out among the flashes he was reliving. 'Go with my blessing, Harry James Potter. You are destined for far greater things than simply killing a Dark Lord. Hopefully, you will receive the love you crave in your next great adventure and build the life you so richly deserve.'

He snorted contemptuously. 'Blessing? More like a curse. She knew that I was going to activate that Merlin-be-damned ritual and get sent to this bizarro world. Was it also her plan for me to hijack the body of some random orphan too?'

He tried to not brood, but damn if he didn't feel justified in doing it. His life had been what most people would call a goddamn Shakespearean tragedy with him as the main schmuck who couldn't catch a fucking break. He had everyone he cared about violently taken away from him by a psychotic madman hellbent on world domination.

He sometimes felt that the muggles would have a field day making an entire movie franchise based on the clusterfuck that was his life. Hell, the good guy had triumphed in the end, despite losing everything and sacrificing himself to defeat his arch-nemesis. If that wasn't a poetically beautiful ending to a dark and gritty story, he didn't know what was.

Now he was just lost. He was in a new world that had the possibility to become just as bad if not worse than his previous one. What exactly was his place in this new reality he found himself stranded in? Was he going to channel his inner Oliver Twist and ask for a second serving while knowing exactly how badly he would be beaten down for it?

Sure, things had changed, but were they really for the better? Purity of blood mattered. That had been something he had a lot of trouble wrapping his head around, seeing as he spent most of his adult life fighting against the assholes who espoused that Hippogriff shit.

Voldemort was alive. Yay. There existed the possibility of the entire world going to hell in a hand basket for the second time in his life. Why was he even bothering at this point?

Maybe his counterpart Rose Potter would handle it. Merlin knows he deserved to just live out the rest of his days in peace without a Sword of Damocles hanging over his neck. Despite knowing the abject torture he would undoubtedly face should he choose to walk that path, he seemingly couldn't give himself over to apathy.

It had colloquially been referred to as his "saving people thing" by his once upon a time best friend. He hadn't put much stock into it, especially after discovering the conspiracy against him. Now he was not so sure though. What was it that constantly forced him to jump into action for the sake of others?

He had thought that his childhood hero complex had long been tempered after years of being in command of a literal magical army. The weight that came with leadership and authority had transformed his personality to a significant degree.

It had brought him no small amount of guilt, having sent thousands of magicals to their deaths. It was thoughts of vengeance for the dead that had fueled him for so long. It took a long time for him to accept that all his decisions had potentially fatal consequences and he would simply have to live with the blood on his hands for the rest of his days.

That was one of the main reasons behind him wanting to remain as low key as possible in his new life. If anyone knew what he could do, they would immediately thrust the responsibility of leadership upon him. Better him than them, they would all say. The stress and expectations were not something many people could handle.

He felt the self-sacrificing personality that had been inculcated into him over the years of manipulation by Dumbledore had aided him immensely in that regard. Ironically, the conniving old man was probably the only person who could have understood the pressure he had been under. He might have viewed him as a kindred spirit if he hadn't loathed the goatfucker with every fiber of his being.

That train of thought brought him directly to his next quandary. Why did he care so much?

This wasn't his reality. He was nothing but an uninvited guest. If things really got that bad, he could simply punch his timecard and that would be the end of it. Surely things couldn't get much worse than what he already experienced?

Fate would have to be a cruel bitch to drop him into another doomed world. Her words didn't specifically say anything, but little hints were starting to arise from the murky depths of his mind.

His birthday was the exact same in this new reality. There was undoubtedly a prophecy that spoke about the Dark Lord and a child born as the seventh month dies. Otherwise, there was no way Rose Potter would have survived her encounter with Voldemort.

There were unseen forces acting in the background, and the thought of his entire life being already planned out by a divine entity he was powerless to stop, scared him more than he cared to admit.

He mussed his fingers through his hair in frustration. A habit he had taken with him from his previous life into his new one.

'Why couldn't I just be normal?'

It was a question he had asked himself numerous times in his past life. Seeing as he never expected the possibility of being whisked away to another reality, it still seemed apropos now.

He used to be Harrison James Potter-Black, the feared Black Lich. The boy who had grown up abused by his relatives in the confines of a small closet. He had been told all his life that he was a waste and nothing he did could ever change that.

His entry into the magical world had provided him an escape from what he viewed as his personal hell. He felt empowered, knowing that his parents had loved him, and an entire world was there for him to explore. That illusion of solace and belonging had slowly been eroded by the annual attempts on his life from the day he walked into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

Finding out about the conspiracy to gain his family's riches had been the straw that had broken the camel's back. The betrayal he faced at the hands of his mentor and best friends had all but destroyed the rose-colored glasses he had used to view the magical world. All those times he had prayed to God, Merlin, and many other deities for a normal year came rushing back to him.

What stood out the most were the tears that would cascade down his cheeks as he felt the sting of loneliness. What he wouldn't have given to be just another normal boy, without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would have gladly sacrificed his entire fortune for the lives of his parents.

Ironically, his wishes had been granted, though several years too late. He had traversed across time and space into this reality, where he was a normal boy. As far as he knew.

He had parents that loved him unconditionally and supported him in all his endeavors. While being the adopted son of one of the richest families in France would not necessarily count as normal, it was still something he saw as a blessing.

Growing up with Jean and Sofia had been an amazing experience. He had gladly cast aside his previous identity to enjoy their affection. However, in certain moments of solitude, he had always compared them to Lily and James Potter.

Oftentimes, he found himself thinking that this was how it would have been like to grow up with them. From the way they had been portrayed by their numerous friends, he discovered many similarities between his original parents and his new ones. A handsome, loving, and playful father who came from a wealthy family, and a beautiful, intelligent, and caring mother with a humble background.

Even the orphanage he had grown up in hadn't been nearly as constricting and harsh as he would have expected. After all, Tom Riddle grew up in an orphanage, and look how he turned out. Despite his initial lack of parental figures, he had thrived under the care of the workers at the orphanage. His life had only gotten better once he had been adopted by Jean and Sofia.

Now, he was attending the premiere French magical institution and having a wonderful time. Even with the problems he was facing, his first semester at Beauxbatons had been better than nearly all his years at Hogwarts combined. The happiness he felt learning magic, and the many friendships he had made his first few months here memorable.

With the revelations from his conversation with Laura, he suddenly found himself questioning everything he thought he knew. He loved his parents and didn't feel like searching for his biological family was important. He was Archer Beaufort, no matter what anyone else said.

Laura's assertions had torn apart the little world of blissful ignorance he had constructed around himself. His favorite field would be almost impossible for him to excel in if he didn't find and develop his magical identity. That could only be done by awakening any family magic he might have within him. However, that would forever shatter the illusion of his implied identity as Archer Beaufort.

Not to mention, the emotional harm his little quest might cause Jean and Sofia was something he couldn't predict. They might blame themselves for not being good parents. It might damage the bond between them if he went digging for his past. Hell, there was a good chance that he might not like what he found, but for whatever reason, the universe had forced this upon him.

Transfiguration was one of the most important and combat applicable fields of magic he knew. It would be foolhardy to give up on it because of personal discomfort. He had to see this through, regardless of the consequences. Otherwise, his overall strength would take a huge hit.

Contemplating on this epiphany, he closed the door and cast a locking charm before walking out of the dorm and briskly walking towards the portkey travel building. He wanted to see his parents badly.

Arriving at the hall, he saw a queue that led to a pedestal in the center of the room. His foot tapped on the floor absentmindedly, anxious to go home. When his turn finally came, he stepped onto the podium with 10 other students. The professor in charge started counting down from 10.

A beat after he heard him say 1, the standard jerk tugged at his back as the world turned into a kaleidoscope of color. He spent the next few seconds tumbling through space and followed his standard procedure to ensure proper portkey arrival.

He closed his eyes as he felt himself being dragged right side up as he neared his destination. With a lurch, his feet hit the ground. Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was his mother with tears in her eyes. She ran towards him and almost tackled him into the ground in her enthusiasm.

"My baby!" she exclaimed as she wrapped him in a tight hug.

He reciprocated her hug as he lost himself within her embrace. His father came over and wrapped his arms around them. He stayed silent as they all enjoyed the moment.

Before he knew what was happening, tears flowed unbidden. He sniffled as he attempted to regain control through Occlumency. It just didn't work, as the feeling of love and belonging flooded his very being. He hugged his mother tighter as he continued to cry.

He was home.