Rise of Crimson Blade

Summary: As Valentine Delilah Black, born Valentine Lethe Potter, to James Charles Potter and Lily Elizabeth Potter nee Evans, let go of her younger sister's hand and fell into the crashing waves of the sea, a new legend is born...the legend of an ethereal woman who bears a bloody blade in hand.

There will be cursing and allusions to (and sometimes depictions of) adult themes (Mostly because PIRATES).

10 Feb 2017: This chapter has been edited heavely. So if you are a returning reader i would ask that you read it again so that you aren't confused by any changes later on.

Disclaimer ~ I don't own Harry Potter or One Piece.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

Prologue

The ancient and most noble house of Potter was descended from great warriors - and later Magicians. Stories chronicling their deeds and exploits are filled with valor and benevolence. The greatest (and most recent) of these tales is that of the Dark Lord Voldemort's defeat at the young hands of Charles Godric Potter. After that fateful Halloween night of the year 1981, the young Potter was named the Boy-Who-Lived with many celebrating the defeat, and numerous stories were written which regaled the valiance of the child's deed.

This, unfortunately, is the way of humanity. They proclaim their leaders and heroes, forge great weapons of war from nothing, fight the legendary battles over the smallest of wrong doings.

But they forget that one act of greatness does not make a great hero, one willing to save those in need, nor does one victory temper a warrior's blade so that it may readily strike down the evils of the world.

However, the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived was not the only one birthed that night. While the Wizarding World had crowned its savior that night, Lady Magick - the patron goddess of magic- named one who would carry a piece of The Will… And that child's story starts with an incantation that bequeaths the end of Life.

Avada Kedavra.

Death.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

On July 31st, 1978, at midnight, a child was born to Lord and Lady Potter. Valentine Lethe Potter was a lovely girl, dark of hair and green of eye, with ivory skin like the finest of china dolls.

When Valentine was born, her father, James Charles Potter, and godfather, Sirius Orion Black, dramatically lamented the girl's teenage years when they would have to threaten any boys who tried to court their perfect little raven.

What the two men didn't know was that those joked of days would never come, that the jested threats would never be spoken on Valentine's behalf.

Because on October 31st, 1981, everything changed.

Valentine was three years old and her new brother was one and a half.

That night, Lord and Lady Potter had gone to the Ministry's Halloween Gala, leaving the Lady's sister, Petunia, to care for the two children.

At midnight, a dark figure glided up the road, street lights flickering and then going out as he passed them. Proceeding up the drive of the modest cottage, he blew the door off its hinges with a blast of concentrated magic, shattering the silence with a flash of color and sound. The figure made his way up to the nursery. That door joined its fellow in splitters on the carpeted floor.

Looking to the blond woman in the room, the figure raised his wand and hissed.

"Give me the children!"

"No!" the blond woman shouted in defiance, "I will not let you harm them!"

"Give me the children and your life will be spared!"

"I'd rather die!"

"If death is your desire, that I shall make it reality!" the attacker hissed with anger and contempt.

A flash of green light.

The woman lay dead on the floor of the nursery.

The killer then turned his wand to the two children cowering in the corner. The girl was staring at the still form of her aunt whilst the boy bawled into his sister's blouse. The girl looked up at the bone white man in front of her and pulled her brother closer to her small frame.

Staring into the eyes of the young girl, the man absently noted they held the same eerie beauty of the curse he had just cast.

Feeling only a sliver of sadness of having to kill a magical child, the man once again cast the bright green light.

A child's scream flooded the night.

A blood-red shield sprang into existence to repel the spell.

The man cried out in shock and agony as his soul was ripped from his mortal form.

A wave of magic hammered against the walls.

Debris fell.

Then silence.

Lord Voldemort was no more.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

Hours later, James and Lily Potter Apparated into to the rubble that was once their home. Behind them came Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Then Albus Dumbledore arrived with Aurors from the Ministry of Magic. All frantically searched the rubble.

First, they found the bruised and bloody form of Petunia Dursley. Then, the two Potter children in a circle of rubble, seemingly untouched by the catastrophic event. Lord and Lady Potter cried out in relief. While making their way toward the children, everyone saw the black robes and the bone white wand of Voldemort. Terrified for the lives of the youngest Potters, all rushed to them.

After checking the two for wounds and healing what they could find, Albus Dumbledore proclaimed Charles Godric Potter the Boy-Who-Lived, due to the lightning bolt shaped scar pulsing magic upon his brow. So proud were Lord and Lady Potter, that they forgot the raven-haired girl that lay in Sirius Black's arms.

Over the coming years, the Potters basked in the glory of their youngest child. Slowly, ever so slowly, they forgot the raven haired girl with green eyes the color of the Killing Curse.

Two years after, they scolded the girl for waking her newborn sister.

Five years after, they yelled at her for not being ready for an outing.

Seven years after, they screamed at her for interrupting them during an interview.

That same day, her godfather came into her room and held her, congratulating her for receiving the Hogwarts Owl and its cargo of the acceptance letter for the school of magic. Then, in an effort to cheer his goddaughter, Sirius offered to take Valentine to Diagon Alley for her school supplies.

Nearly a decade after that life-changing Halloween, the Lord and Lady Potter locked Valentine in her room so she wouldn't ruin the birthday party of their precious son. Later that night, when they denied that Valentine existed, she snapped.

She ran to her godfather, tears streaming down her face and accepted the offer he made in her second year at Hogwarts.

The next day, Valentine Lethe Potter walked out of her parents' home, out of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, out of the light…

...And into the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

Valentine's former parents didn't notice their daughter's absence until the time came for them to leave for King's Cross Station.

At the station, the Potters saw Valentine, Sirius, and Remus hugging each other goodbye. Anger drove them to yell at the three, even as they wondered why their daughter was with them.

In retaliation, Sirius looked at them with cold fury and hissed:

"You have no right to speak to my daughter and me in such a way."

"Your daughter?" Lily sputtered in indignation.

"Yes," the Lord of House Black said with pride apparent in his voice,"I would like you to meet Valentine Black,"

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord and Lady Potter," the thirteen-year-old said in a voice that was like fine silk over a sword as she bowed her head.

"Valentine Lethe Potter, I have had enough of this nonsense! You will not speak to us in such a disrespectful manner. We are your parents!" Lord Potter roared.

Looking at the man with cold anger and distaste, the Black Heiress would ask, "When were you ever my parents?"

The question shocked the two into silence as they contemplated a response.
When the Potters made to respond, Valentine dealt the final punishing blow.

"Know this, Sirius Black is my father and has been such a figure for the majority of my life. As far as I am concerned, you two are simply my sperm donor and incubator."

The proclamation sent a lance of pain through Lily and James. They knew they had not been the best of parents to Valentine, but the revelation of how the girl saw them made the two freeze with shock.

With her piece said, Valentine had hugged her father good-bye and climbed onto the train.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

Once their son was safely on his way to Hogwarts, the Potters ran to Gringotts to verify the claim of adoption.

Upon discovery that the claim was indeed true, they turned to finding a way to revoke the adoption. But found it was not the adoption most families used, where the child only gained the name of the new family.

Black had used a runic blood adoption, a process that replaced the genetics of the child and changed the magic to a hereditary composition, that was reminiscent of the adopting parent(s).

For all intents and purposes, Valentine Black was born a Black and there was no way to legally prove she had originally been a Potter, unless Valentine herself agreed with the claim.

Over the years, the Potters tried to convince Valentine to come back to the family, but each time they failed.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

Three years of happiness later, during the summer of Valentine's sixteenth birthday, she received a letter asking to meet…

...Two hours after her arrival at the designated time and place, masked men attacked.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

A red sun rose on a blood-stained clearing. Weapons littered the scorched and crater filled area. Blood spattered the tall oak trees surrounding the clearing that opened onto a cliff face. bodies covered the now red grass.

An unidentified human slumped against a tree, the edge of the cliff and crashing waves just feet away. The person stared down at the crimson liquid covering their hand and the gaping wound in their stomach.

Smooth metal pressed against the figure's leg. They shifted their gaze down and away from the ugly laceration in their gut to the place where the sensation originated from.

Lying there in the blood caked dirt, was a katana.

Picking up the weapon with shaking hands, the figure watched transfixed as small rivulets of blood dripped from their fingertips, only to splatter on the unforgiving ground.

'Why? Why must tragedy follow me?'

The thoughts came unbidden to the mind of the only living person there.

Lost in dark thoughts the figure paid no heed to the steadily rising sun.

As the sunrise illuminated the clearing, the red light reflected off the figure's spiky raven hair, which fell like a river of shadows past thin ivory shoulders, turning the dark locks to a rusty color.

Poisonous green eyes studied the blade in the new light.

The first feature she noticed was that the obsidian-black blade was crusted with dried blood, though some of it still wet and flowing in and around the symbols embossed into the blade; the most prominent being a raven extending its wings around a howling wolf—or was it a Grimm?

With that thought, memories of blue eyes that swam with swirls of mercury, black hair that shone dark blue in the sun, a barking laugh and a smile filled to the brim with light, laughter, and love came whirling to the forefront of their mind.

Under the engraving, blood had pooled and dried in the furrows of engraved words.

Abandon fear. Move forward. Never look back. If you pull back, you age. If you hesitate, you die.

The words brought to mind the sound of clashing blades, of dying men, and that cold silence that heralds the mourning of lost loved ones.

It brought memories of war.

The sun was higher now, casting its radiant light down on the teen and reflecting off the tracks of blood streamed down the person's cheeks. The raven-haired teen looked to the kaleidoscope sky.

"Val, where are you?!" called a voice through the growing light, shattering the silence.

Startled, the now dubbed 'Val' looked in the direction of the voice, but her jadeite eyes held a glazed appearance, like she was seeing but not believing there existed some form of life outside of the scorched, bloody, and death-soaked clearing.

'Is this real?...No, this must be a dream...Horror like this has no place in the glossy mirage that is reality.' Val thought with a small, bitter smile.

"Val, are you there?" the voice cried again, this time closer.

'Val? Could that voice be searching for me?'

"I'm here," Val croaked in a soft and broken voice that was dimmed by the fog of pain and emotion.

A girl came into Val's wavering line of sight.

She had wild, fiery red hair, hazel eyes, and a pale, tear-stained face.

Running up to Val, the girl gasped when she saw the steadily bleeding wound in Val's gut.

"-sister, sister! Val! Val, look at me please…!"

"Rosey?" whispered Val in a weak voice.

"Oh, thank the gods!" Rosey exclaimed. "Val, I need you to stay awake."

Rosey tore strips of cloth from the bottom of her shirt and started to crudely bandage the wound her sister bore.

Valentine lifted a blood-stained hand to push herself up and away from her sister. But she stumbled, and off the cliff edge, pain bringing black at the edges of her sight.

Rosey managed to catch her blood-slicked hand and tried desperately to pull Val back up the cliff.

"Val! Give me your other hand!"

Looking away from the crashing waves up to the twelve-year-old, Val stared up at Rosey's pale, tear-streaked face and opened cracked bloodless lips.

"Rosey… Rosey, I'm sorry," Valentine said, her throat tight with regret, as Rosey's grip on her hand slipped, thanks to copious amounts of blood.

"Val! Val, what are you doing!?"

"I'm sorry... I love you...I love you so, so much..."

Then, Valentine Delilah Black, adopted daughter of Sirius Orion Black, born Valentine Lethe Potter to James Charles Potter and Lily Elizabeth Potter nee Evans, older sister of Charles Godric Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and Rosalina Lillian Potter…let go of her sister's hand and fell into the crashing waves of the sea below.

The image of Rosey crying out, tears streaming down her pale face, reaching out for her elder sister's hand was the last one she saw before the waves swallowed her with a mighty gulp.

"VALENTINE!"

Bubbles filled her vision…

Then black.

(I am a line break, hear me roar)

Hours later, the youngest Potter was still staring at the waves, when she was found among the slaughtered hitmen, still crying out for Valentine and sobbing out that she was sorry.

That day, Valentine Delilah Black was proclaimed dead and her body was forever lost amongst the waves.

That day, the blood of Lady Magick was spilled on the ever-changing glass.

That was the day otherworldly historians will mark as The Beginning.

The Beginning of a Legend.

The Legend of a pirate.

The Rise of the Crimson Blade.