Fardin Khan Nasir 1

The Chronicles of James Potter

The foul stench of blood thrived throughout the musky atmosphere. The sky was as red
as crimson blood and the sun as orange as a warm and crackling fire. And there I was, standing
in the midst of a vast stadium, the joyous crowd cheering and applauding as they braced for the
formidable fight awaiting them.
In a moments notice, the final of the Cup of the Gods had begun, as the announcer
roared Fight!
I had won all my previous matches leading up to the final, shocking all the demigods who
repeatedly expressed that a wizard could never win the Cup of the Gods. The patrons of the
tournament had taken my wand away from me and promised to return me to my wife and my
year-old child if I had won their tournament.
Yet there I was, scrutinizing my gargantuan adversary. Sweat drizzled down my face,
whilst I started to consider my chances. Before me stood a gargantuan troll-like creature with a
solitary auburn eye on its substantial forehead, frequently dubbed the Cyclops.
As the Cyclops tried to squish me to death, I used my agility and dexterity to maneuver
outside of the Cyclops immense feet. Whilst I did this, I tried to pull my bow and arrow out of
the quiver that hung on my back in order to halt the Cyclops.
As I maneuvered between the Cyclops legs, dumbstrucking the latter, I succeeded in
pulling my bow and arrow out. BAM!!! My arrow, whose tip I had formerly rubbed with
sulfuric acid, had blinded the Cyclops. The agonizing screams of demigods burst my eardrums,
as the Cyclops collapsed into the stands.
Never had I experienced a moment of so much joy and bliss as the announcer exclaimed:
The winner and sole survivor of the Cup of the Gods is... the one and only James Potter!!!
The human audience burst into celebrations, mocking the demigods who had survived. I
only imagined how jovial my reconciliation with Harry and Lily would be.
James Potter, I believe you have proved yourself worthy, bellowed an old man with a
long white beard drooping below his knees. Thus, I give you these: your wand and this Portkey
embodying a Gold cup.
Dumbledore, I dont know what to say
Dont say, just do, and Dumbledore handed me my wand and the port key.

Fardin Khan Nasir 2

And then, out of the blue, a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt adorned with floral patterns
and a pair of khaki trousers materialized beside Dumbledore. On his chestnut-colored hair sat a
crown of laurel wreaths, lustered with glints of Imperial Gold.
You must be James Potter, winner of the 237th Cup of the Gods, right?
Yes, this is James Fleamont Potter at your service. Who would you be?
Ah, my apologies for not introducing myself earlier. I am Dionysius, the Greek God of
Wine.
Youre the god of wine?
Yes, certainly. You see, I have come here to congratulate you on behalf of myself and my
fellow brethren. Winning the Cup of the Gods is no simple task for mortals such as you. Only
the most adroit and vigorous mortal men are able to complete such a herculean task. Now that
I recall, it seems that only the likes of mortals such as myself and Hercules have previously won
such a tournament; naturally, this was before my days as a god. Thus, for winning such a
perilous tournament, you have gained the utmost respect and dignity between the ranks of us
Greek gods, and therefore, we have decided to hand you one of our most prized possessions: The
Helm of Darkness, which, if worn, is capable of causing intense fear and distress to whoever
who threatens you.
Dionysius handed me the Helm of Darkness. The helm itself was made of Stygian Iron,
and seemed to suck in all luminosity and jovialness from its surroundings. For some odd reason,
the Helm of Darkness radiated an aura full of melancholy and trepidation.
Uh Thanks.
Farewell, Jakes Popper, said Dionysius, as he muttered something in Ancient Greek
and vanished out of sight. Afterwards, Dumbledore gave me a quizzical look, and left by myself.
Nonetheless, enthusiastic to reconcile with Lily and Harry, I went forth and pushed the
rhinestone which adorned the glistening portkey. As soon as I did so, I felt as if I was being
constricted by a ravenous anaconda. Then, abruptly, that same feeling was replaced with one of
immense terror. Avada Kedavra! bellowed Voldemort, as my precious Lily collapsed to the
ground.
NO!!! I roared, and in a moments notice, Voldemort had turned to face me. Ah, has
the great James Potter come to save his child?

Fardin Khan Nasir 3

You dare kill my wife! Now you must face my wrath! Tears of anger trickled down my
face, as a feeling of great animosity and fury built inside me.
James Potter, you stand no chance against my dexterity! Avada Kedavra!!!
As the green streak of light emitted from Voldemorts wand closed in on me, I leaped to
my left and hollered: Really? Lets see what you make of this!
Capable of causing intense fear and distress to whoever who threatens you. I put on the
Helm of Darkness on top of my auburn hair and, as I expected, all hell erupted. The hands of
several corpses erupted from the ground, grasping Voldemorts haggard limbs.
What is this carnage! Let go of me at once, you imbeciles!
As if on que, they corpses tightened their grips on Voldemort, forcing him to give off a
high-pitched cry.
Ahhh! No, this cannot be! I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, cannot die!
No, Voldemort, I am afraid you cant, I told him. However, I believe that you can go to
Azkaban, where I am sure some dementors await to caress your lips.