That evening, back within the quiet walls of Black Castle, Harry found a moment to pull Sirius aside, his mind swirling with questions that had been simmering since their visit to the Bones Manor.
"Sirius, I need to understand something," Harry began, his tone serious. "The 'Boy Who Lived'? Why do people call Charles the 'Boy Who Lived'? And why do kids like Susan think of him as almost like a hero?"
Sirius sighed, looking like he'd been expecting this conversation. "Well, Harry, after it got out that Charles survived Voldemort's curse, it kind of lit a spark of hope during some really dark times. People grabbed onto his story because it gave them something to hold onto, a sign that maybe we could win against such darkness."
Harry listened but still felt puzzled. "But it was my grandmother's sacrifice that stopped Voldemort, right? Why isn't she the one everyone talks about?"
Sirius nodded. "Yes, she is highly respected, but the idea of a baby surviving a curse that's killed so many, it's something else. It's like Charles became a symbol that even the darkest magic could be overcome."
Harry thought for a moment. "I guess I get it, but it still feels a bit exaggerated. It sounds like someone's been shaping the way people think. But even then, shouldn't that have just been a momentary lift? Why do people still talk about Charles like he's some kind of legend?"
Harry nodded, but confusion lingered. "But shouldn't that have been a fleeting moment? A temporary uplift that faded as we moved forward?"
"One would think," Sirius conceded.
"but then, children's books about Charles started to pop up everywhere. They were full of exaggerated stories about him doing all sorts of heroic things. These stories really caught on with the kids, who loved hearing about Charles's adventures before bedtime. The person who wrote those books really knew how to captivate children's imaginations."
Harry couldn't hide his confusion. "But why would my parents be okay with this? That doesn't sound like the Lily and James I remember. They would have seen the problems with making Charles into some kind of legendary hero. It puts too much pressure on him for no reason. I can't see why they would want Charles to be seen as some kind of make-believe hero."
Sirius looked serious for a moment. "Harry, the people we knew... they've changed over the years. The choices they've made since that night... I struggle to understand. It's like they're not the same people anymore."
Harry's curiosity deepened, urging him to understand the complete picture. "Tell me everything, Sirius. After I was left with the Dursleys, how did things change with my parents? Begin from where it all started."
Sirius let out a heavy sigh before he began his tale, "Right after you were sent away, James and Lily, along with baby Charles, kept a low profile, almost invisible, thanks to the new protective enchantments around their home. They hardly ever stepped outside. But as the Death Eaters' trials commenced, it became evident that the forces of good had lost much of their clout in the Wizengamot. The war had taken a heavy toll, wiping out many families entirely. In this vacuum of power, several Death Eaters managed to escape conviction by pleading the Imperius Curse, bolstered by sympathy from neutral families and even those not aligned with Voldemort who had acted out of fear and now feared retribution for their own misdeeds."
"Dumbledore, alongside James and Lily, felt a deep frustration, aware that these individuals would stand against them and Charles upon Voldemort's inevitable return. In a bid to consolidate the forces of good, they chose to use the Potter family's emerging fame as a tool to influence the political scene."
"James and Lily started making public appearances again, particularly at Ministry events, aiming to drum up support. Their goal was to influence votes, to push through legislation that matched their ideals for a better future."
Harry found it hard to match this strategic maneuvering with the parents he remembered. "It doesn't sound like them at all. They always hated those shallow Ministry parties."
"Exactly," Sirius confirmed with a nod. "James and Lily were never the types to seek out attention or dive into political games. But it seemed like they didn't see any other option or perhaps Dumbledore persuaded them that leveraging their fame could rally support in the Ministry. Or maybe, they just got caught up in the fame themselves. They changed from the people we knew. Initially, their public appearances were meant to symbolize unity and strength against future threats. Yet, as time went on, they became entangled in the very political scene they had always steered clear of."
Sirius sighed, "James was hit hard by the loss of his status as the head of the Potter family. The praise and recognition for his role in Voldemort's defeat, and as the father of 'The Boy Who Lived,' became a comfort to him."
"And Lily," he added, "she saw an unprecedented opportunity in their rising fame. Being Muggle-born, she had always faced hurdles in the Ministry, fighting for recognition and equal footing. This newfound fame was her chance to break through those barriers, to really make a difference from within the Ministry's ranks."
Harry thought hard about what Sirius was saying, trying to wrap his head around it all. "So they really went all in with using their fame. It sounds like they ended up becoming just like Dumbledore, doing whatever they thought was necessary for the 'greater good', no matter the consequences. They changed into the kind of people they never wanted to be, all while thinking they were making things better. I get that they can live their lives however they want, but why did they have to put Charles in the middle of all this?"
Sirius gave a heavy sigh before explaining, "It all came down to money problems at first. The fame they had meant they were expected to show up at fancy events, dress in expensive clothes, and basically live a lifestyle they couldn't really afford. They were trying to keep up appearances for the sake of their political goals, but they were struggling because they didn't have enough money."
"Their personal funds and what they could draw from the Potter family assets were insufficient for the scale of their activities. Without access to the main Potter vaults, their financial strategy was unsustainable."
"I thought they might cut back, perhaps retreat from the public eye to regroup," Sirius continued, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But then, the 'Boy Who Lived' merchandise started appearing everywhere. Books, toys, you name it. It turned out, this was their solution."
"They had been advised by an author to capitalize on Charles' fame. From what Arcturus and I found out, they brought the idea to Dumbledore, and he was all for it. He saw it as a way to secure Charles's future and also to use the fame to help the wizarding world somehow. He believed leveraging this fame could be beneficial for Charles politically."
Harry sat there, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness. "So, they completely overlooked how all of this could affect Charles in the long run?"
Sirius gave a solemn nod. "They were under the impression that as long as they were cautious at home, protected by all the new magical protections, and had Dumbledore or the Order's members around them in public, everything would be fine. They thought Charles's fame could only bring positive outcomes, believing they could navigate any negative impacts."
"It seems like being around Dumbledore and the ministry officials started to change them. They began to act more and more like Dumbledore, maybe without even realizing it. It might have been Dumbledore's influence, but ultimately, it was their decision to go down this path."
Harry shook his head, his expression serious. "So, their choices led to a world obsessed with 'The Boy Who Lived.' Charles ended up being seen more as a figure or a symbol rather than just a kid. And James and Lily got so caught up in the politics and the spotlight that they lost sight of the simple, important things. I can hardly think of them as my parents anymore."
Understanding the full extent of his parents' choices, Harry couldn't help but feel they had left him behind for good. It became clear to him that once they began making public appearances, there was no real reason to keep him away at the Dursleys' any longer.
Their actions seemed to suggest that keeping Harry away was more about ensuring Charles would inherit the Potter legacy, a realization that cut deep. This led Harry to a firm decision: he was done with them. In his heart, they were no longer his family, and the possibility of reconciliation was gone.
Turning his thoughts to Charles, Harry faced a complex dilemma. He had promised his grandmother he'd look after his younger brother, but the situation seemed increasingly complicated.
Charles was growing up in the spotlight, surrounded by tales of his supposed greatness—a scenario that likely wouldn't leave much room for advice from Harry. He pictured a Charles who might arrive at Hogwarts full of pride and misconceptions about his own importance, influenced heavily by his fame.
Still, Harry couldn't shake off a glimmer of hope. Perhaps he was being overly negative. There might still be a chance to guide Charles, to show him that fame was transient and public opinion could change in an instant. Harry had seen firsthand how quickly people's admiration could turn into something much less pleasant. He clung to the possibility that experiencing the ups and downs of public life might open Charles's eyes to reality, prompting a change in attitude.
If Charles could learn and grow from such experiences, Harry was willing to support him in becoming a better person. If not, Harry was prepared to distance himself and not waste his efforts on someone who wouldn't appreciate them. The choice was Charles's to make, and Harry's future actions would depend on how his brother chose to navigate the fame that had been thrust upon him.