Author's Note: Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, its contents or characters in any way shape or form. I'm just a sad loser who likes to play in Ms. Rowling's pool.
Prologue: The Cycle Begins
"This doesn't have to be difficult."
"WHAT doesn't? What the HELL are you talking about?"
"I'm only going to ask you once more: hand over the child and come with me."
In a small office, cramped deep within the Ministry of Magic, four people sat, stoic and unsmiling, and discussed the future of the Wizarding World as they knew it. A future that was wrapped inexplicably up in one boy. Albus Dumbledore, who having heard it from Trelawney himself was was closest to the center of the prophecy (next to the boy), the Minister of Magic and long time activist against the Dark Lord, Millicent Bagnold, as well as Cornelius Fudge and Rufus Scrimgeour, Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and Head of the Auror Office respectively. The room was so out of reach and out of the knowledge of the general public that even less people knew about it than the Department of Mysteries—or its contents. In fact, it had an air about it of being hastily put together for one purpose and one alone: the meeting which was taking place among the four wizards and witch, enchantments and wards placed as hastily as it was created. Each of them sat elbow to elbow at the small table, and their tension filled the room like a noxious gas.
"Now, then. I trust we all know why we're here?" Minister Bagnold asked in a low voice, glancing at the others. The men nodded. "Good."
There was a collective pause. In the last ten hours, the world had been turned upside down. Voldemort was gone, Harry Potter was inexplicably alive though his parents were not so lucky, and the one man the Potters thought they could trust was now in Azkaban for betraying them to the darkest wizard of the century. Where had things gone wrong? While there was celebrating in the streets, the four were putting their heads together, trying to make sense of it all.
"I suppose," Dumbledore began, finally breaking the silence, "this undeniably confirms what the prophecy said about the boy." He offered this with a small smile that lessened the tension in the room a little bit, and the others nodded in return.
"Yes, it certainly does. What is most intriguing is how the boy survived at all—and on top of that, how he managed to vanquish the most powerful dark wizard of our time," Fudge added, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"The Dark Lord isn't defeated, merely... inconvenienced."
All eyes were now on the eccentric Headmaster and Supreme Mugwump, each carrying varying degrees of shock and fear.
"What exactly do you mean?" Cornelius asked, looking positively shaken.
"I know Tom. I know what he is capable of. There is no way he would have made it this far, no way he would have walked into that house without a second plan. After all, this boy, this child is supposedly capable of destroying him. And he, so obsessed as he has been in immortality, could not risk it-being destroyed."
"You mean to tell me you believe he actually feared this boy?" Scrimgeour demanded, looking quite indignant at the very idea. Albus nodded, smiling patiently.
"I do indeed, Mister Scrimgeour. As I said, I knew the boy very well. He was always fascinated by the idea of fate and of the powers of a Seer. Not only did he feel threatened by this boy and the power he could possibly wield, he was threatenedby his very [i]existence[/i]."
"So we can say, then, that young Mister Potter will become a powerful wizard?" the Minister inquired, tilting her head ever so slightly.
Albus smiled once again, blue eyes twinkling in the dim light. "And who are we to say we can predict the future? No, I don't suppose we can say that at all, not until he has grown, learned magic for himself, and proven to us whether or not he is powerful-or if he was simply the... victim of fate."
"Yes, but that still begs the question," Cornelius began cautiously. "What of... You-Know-Who? Do you really believe it's possible he could return to power?" Although it was the Junior Minister who begged such questions, the way the Minister and Head Auror snapped their heads towards Dumbledore when they were asked made it perfectly clear that the answers were sought by all present.
"Possible? No, no, I think it's much more than possible. Expected, that's what it is. The only questions we must as are when, and with what degree of power-"
"Which is why we're here," Millicent interrupted, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"Yes," Albus replied cordially. "That is exactly why we are here. Rufus, Cornelius, as heads of your departments, you two are the best minds we have in discovering exactly what happened last night. What Minister Bagnold and I are hoping to achieve tonight is something widely thought impossible: we are going to turn back time and prevent the event from happening as it did."
The two men looked baffled, and Cornelius was the first to recover himself. "Forgive me Headmaster, but I don't believe I understand. Happening as it did? Why not prevent it from happening at all?"
"Because, Cornelius, the Dark Lord isa very persistent creature. He will, by any means necessary, seek the boy in an attempt to eliminate the perceived threat. At some point, they would have to meet. However, the longer we can delay that day, the better chance Harry has. And the better chance his family has."
"It's a very old form of magic, you know. Hasn't been tried in over a century. Do you know how dangerous this could be, Albus?" Rufus retorted, his eyes sharp and challenging and his tone grave.
"I am aware," Albus replied calmly, clasping his hands loosely before him and watching Scrimgeour over his half moon spectacles as though they were discussing literature.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a threat to everyone," Bagnold reminded. "You're right that it's a very old, and very dangerous branch of magic. However, the need now is far greater than the risk."
Junior Minister Fudge bit his lip and looked down at his hands, as if he had been preparing some clever retort until then. There certainly was a great need: people were dying, everywhere. The wizarding world was in chaos. However, hadn't that need been met? No, he had to remind himself. Cornelius Fudge trusted Dumbledore explicitly: if he was so confident that the wizard would return, then it would clearly be better to start off with the upper hand.
"Where do we start?" he asked finally, as if coming to terms with a matter that was fully out of his control.
"His source," Dumbledore replied amiably. Rufus Scrimgeour's eyes widened slightly.
"Sirius Black."