A/N: So this is my second try at a fanfiction here. The first one was obviously a dud, but, at that time I was just so excited to write my own stuff that I made a terrible start. After all this time, I have read a lot of fanfictions, matured, improved my writing style, and now have a basic understanding of what I want to write.
Anyways, enough of my monologue, but this fic is inspired by a lot of fics, including 'Child of the Storm' (mostly in scale, because of how ambitious the plans are, that I have for it, mind you, this is NOT a crossover, just that my plans are on that scale, bigger than most if not all HP fanfics), many 'Wrong-Boy/Girl-Who-Lived' stories (especially 'Family Bonds', one of the best WBWL and Severus-raises-Harry fics I have ever read, a pity that it will forever be unfinished), 'Oblivion' (another good story that got discontinued, I fairly liked the Elder Scroll Crossover thing and the relationship between Harry and family, even though won't be replicating the exact thing here) and some ideas from a few others. Please do forgive any minor spelling mistakes, as it is, I would be getting a BETA reader only if the story really takes off.
On with the story, I guess.
Once Upon a Time
A tall figure, almost a silhouette, walked down the lane of a quaint little village in West Country of England, his midnight black cloak billowing and fluttering in the cold breeze wafting through. Any other night, he would have stood out like a sore thumb, an anomaly, but tonight, his attire blended in completely with others, as men, women and children roamed around, dressed as monsters and aliens and vampires, celebrating the night of Halloween, shrieking and giggling as they ran back and forth, from House to House, asking for candies and sweets and what not, while their mothers and fathers watched on from the sidelines, some watching with wry amusement and humour in their eyes, while others, having forced into similar costumes as their children, watched the ongoing festivities with happiness and joy, barely paying a sidelong glance to the robed figure, probably another parent, walking with purpose, an unmistakable serpentine grace in his movements.
Of course, this figure was not just a random passerby, or even a resident of the village, for he did not really belong here, the absence of a companion alongside him, as was the case for most other adults, making it clear that an outsider had entered the Godric's Hollow.
His stride was purposeful, and not once did he change direction, for people moved out of his way themselves, as if by magic, as he glided through the streets to reach an intersection where a nice little cottage stood, unseen by many, unknown by most, hidden by magic, and not the riff-raff kind of flashy magic that street magicians indulged in, but one of the most ancient of magics, powerful enough to hide away a secret from the world, an object, a person, maybe even a house (as was the case here), and seal the key to the secret inside the soul of a person, the Secret-Keeper. The owners of this house, the Potters, had entrusted this secret to whom they believed to be one of their best friends, a part of their family, Peter Pettigrew, a best friend, who had turned traitor for the promises of more power, and due to his own cowardice, and disclosed the secret to his master and Lord, Tom Marvolo Riddle, or as he was better known as in magical Britain: Dark Lord Voldemort.
As the Dark Lord unlatched the garden gate and ascended the stairs, the familiar feeling of wards washed over him. He had been prepared for the level of warding that could be found in family manors and was actually somewhat disappointed at the quality of protection, supposedly to keep him out.
'Child's play,' he thought disdainfully as he disabled the minor alert and intent wards surrounding the property with a few flicks of his 13 and a half inches Yew wand.
'Pathetic! Did they think that they could stop the Dark Lord Voldemort with a few school-grade wards, the father put up a far better fight than the son, it seems,' he thought as he remembered the duel that had taken place in the ministry, where Charlus Potter had taken down two of his inner circle Death Eaters and even mildly impressed him with his ferocity and repertoire of spells, that is, before he had put down the Potter family head with a Killing Curse. He could say that he even had a grudging respect for the man, and would have taken him in his inner circle if there had been an opportunity, but he knew a Potter would never side with a Dark Lord, as history had told, and in the end, he had to stay content with killing the Potter Patriarch, thereby reducing the power of his opposition. Though James Potter had been a thorn in his side a few times, disrupting his attacks on Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and even holding him off once, with the help of his infernal mudblood wife.
'It seems, I will not be facing the 'thrice defying' parents today after all' he mused as he unlocked the front door with a finality.
"Yous not be allowed in Masters' House," a house elf with the Potter crest emblazoned on a piece of cloth wrapped around her(presumably female, from the voice) body, stood at the entrance, hands glowing with magic, ready to blast anyone coming through the door.
"A house elf! That is the Potters' ultimate defence against me! HaHaHahahahaaa," and Lord Voldemort laughed. It was not a good laugh, but one that seemed wrong on many levels, and sent chills down the spine of the house elf, along with the residents currently upstairs. Even before Tipsy , the house elf could send a banisher equivalent of for a house elf at the Dark Lord, his wand flashed, quick as lightning and a green light burst out of it, colliding with Tipsy who flopped down to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, dead to the world.
But Lord Voldemort continued to laugh, for this had been too easy, he had expected resistance, in the form of the war wards of Potter manor, or maybe even one or two aurors, to prevent him from ending the child of the Prophecy. Eventually, he banished the corpse of the stupid elf and glided up the stairs, just in time to see a door slam shut at the far end of the room.
'Interesting, it seems that I spoke too soon! Maybe the Potters are not as pathetic as I assumed, maybe this WILL be interesting,' he smirked as he reached the last room, blasted the door open, a shield already up to face whoever was in there, only to stop short upon seeing a small child, barely 3-4 years old, glaring at him, or at least as much as a 4 year could glare, while holding what appeared to be a toy wand in his hand, pointed at him with trembling hands and tear-stained eyes, standing in front of a crib, in which, presumably, the prophecy child, Olive Potter was sleeping.
"Y-You-You h-hurt Tipsy, y-you are a bad man," the boy hiccupped and stuttered while still keeping the silly toy pointed at the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord, on the other hand, was looking at the boy, as if he were a puzzle to be solved, for he had not expected a second child to be present here, not one who looked like a Potter, at any rate. That's when he remembered, a conversation he had with his Pet Potioneer Severus, hearing about the birth of the Potter heir, one who had only been seen out in the public once or twice, and remained a mystery to the general wizarding public. Harry James Potter, born on 30th September, 4 years ago, that was pretty much all the information available, and he had decided not to dig deeper, for the child was not born in July, and thus, was not part of the prophecy.
Any other time, he would have been amused, and maybe even somewhat impressed, for the boy, while shaking, was still pointing his toy wand at him, and the power steadily emanating from the boy was nothing to scoff at either, for he had rarely if ever seen a four year old emit power at the levels of Hogwarts students, and he would have loved to recruit such a child into his own plans of world domination, but alas, he had work to do, and this little obstacle, could not deter him from his path.
"Move away child, I have business not with you, but with your sister," he intoned in a voice that was more of a hiss, and resonated with the fight or flight instincts of the boy, urging him to run away, away from this monstrosity in a human's shell, to run back into his mother's arms, but the child did not budge. He shook, a moment away from crying, trembled like a leaf, but the child stood there.
Lord Voldemort raised his eyebrows, hidden under the hood, for never before had someone stood up to him for this long, barring his old Transfiguration teacher, and with Dumbledore being one of, if not the most powerful wizards in Britain, if not the whole world, the boys' actions had interesting implications. This moment of contemplation over with, he swept aside his hand, in a grand gesture, as if clearing the path, and little Harry slid away from in front of the crib, to the corner of the room, the trembling and shaking increasing, if it was possible, and the light of the toy finally dimming.
As the Dark Lord reached the crib to have a look inside, he found that the girl had woken up among all this commotion, and hazel eyes were staring at him with curiosity as if searching for something, and when the eyes did not find it, the little one-year old, Olive Lily Potter, started wailing, with sounds like 'Hawwy, mama, dadda' coming from her mouth.
Annoyed, Voldemort cast a silencing charm on the girl, making the room eerily quiet, and unnoticed by the man, little Harry looked up from where he had fallen, an intense look in his eyes.
"So, tonight ends the prophecy, along with the prophecy child, for I am Lord Voldemort, the True Heir of the Slytherin house ,and just the idea of a mere child becoming my equal is utterly impossible," and with that, Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at Olive, and uttered the words that would change the course of history.
"Avada Kedavra," he hissed at the same time Harry shouted "Noooooo!" from across the room, and his wild magic rushed forward to do the little magicals' bidding, clashing with the force that was going to harm his little sister.
The wild magic was powerful, but in the end, the Killing Curse was the vilest of soul magics, and a little boy's magic, as powerful as it may be, would have ultimately lost the battle, if not for another intervening force. The room became encased in the brightest of Lights, as the runes surrounding the outer boundary of Olive's crib lit up, the final protection drawn on by one Lily Potter, after more than an year dedicated to the research for protections magic, and her foray into the Potter and Black Libraries to obtain this knowledge. Though, this in itself would not have been enough, because the runes required magic, an amount that was so vast, that it could only be generated from one's life force, in the form of sacrificial magic. But Harrys' wild magic in this case compensated, and proved enough, if barely, to charge the protection runes to their full power and reflect the Green Light of the Killing Curse back towards its caster. Voldemort felt a jolt of fear, for the first time in a very long time, and as the Killing Curse touched him, he could only hope that the steps he had taken to prevent his demise would be enough and that he would get his chance to get revenge on this little child who had defeated him for once.
The soul of the Dark Lord detached from his body, but his soul fragments distributed across the continent prevented its departure into the afterlife, and thus with a horrible screech of rage, horror and fury, the spirit blew a hole through the cottage roof and flew away. His robes remained, surrounding the pile of dust that had been his body, along with his wand, having dropped from his hand.
The raw power exuded from Harry Potter was not limited to Godric's Hollow either, but spread out throughout the continent, registering on devices as a surge of magic of unfathomable limits, before receding back into the boy, who passed out from using all of his magical force at once to do the impossible. All of the vast amounts of residual magic proved too much for Olive as well, and she too lost consciousness, as a lightning bolt mark appeared on her head, as a result of being in the centre of the runic circle, the symbol for the Sól rune, marking the beginning of joy, triumph and new things in her life.
At the same time, James and Lily Potter, who were effectively twiddling thumbs and feeling anxiety in their guts for an unknown reason, sat in a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, as discussions were held on which place needed more protecting this week, and people lamented over which family had been attacked and wiped out this week. They had thought about skipping this meeting and celebrating Halloween with their children, but Dumbledore had insisted that the whole order be there, for they had something important to discuss, and so there they were.
In a different timeline, the Lord and Lady of House Potter, would have had a single child, Harry James, and at this point of time, they would have been at their Fidelius-protected house, enjoying the festive atmosphere with their one-year old, and completely unprepared for the betrayal at the hands of Pettigrew and the impending Dark Lord barging through their front door. This would have led to their deaths and then fate would have guided their son towards his destiny. But, here and now, James and Lily Potter had left their children, 4-year old Harry James Potter, and 1-year old Olive Lily Potter under the watchful eye of their beloved family elf, Tipsy, safe in the knowledge that their children would be out of danger under the Fidelius charm.
So when they received an alert that dangerous amounts of Magic had been performed in their house, James Potter went white as a sheet, while Lily Potter gasped, before Lily rushed to the nearest apparition point, James on her heels, and Sirius, upon their expressions of dawning horror, turned to Padfoot and matched them step for step. Dumbledore, after regaining his bearings at the sudden action taking place in front of his eyes, urgently followed after the trio, with speed belying his age, in order to confirm what he already suspected to have happened, or start making alternate plans, if by some chance, he was proven wrong. After a minute or so of the four peoples' departure, everybody else scrambled to their feet, trying to think of what had to have happened, and what would be happening now. Frank Longbottom along with Alice, decided to check on their son as well, feeling equal parts relief and guilt at their Neville not being the target of the Prophecy, but that another family's, their good friends' child had to be.
Lily, James and Sirius arrived at the cottage one after the other, wands drawn, eyes filled with equal parts terror and determination, and surveyed the scene around the dining room and entrance, nothing much looked out of place at first glance, other than the gate being unlocked, but then their eyes fell towards the corner of the room, where Tipsy, their house elf lay still, unnaturally so. With just a look, they knew she was dead, and so the three rushed up stairs, just as the headmaster entered the house himself. The broken apart the door, made their feet run even faster, and the chaos that was the nursery, with the roof caved in, and a black robe on the floor, with what looked like black sand under it, made Lily think the first as she slowly made her way to the crib. The others entered the room, Dumbledore having covered the ground by now, and all three stared at where Harry was lying on the ground on the opposite side of the crib from where the black robes were, seemingly dead to the world.
By now, Lily had reached the crib, and was staring in astonishment at the Lightning Bolt shaped rune marked on her daughter's forehead. She had drawn the runes by herself, so she knew their purpose, but the fact that the runes had activated without any sacrifice puzzled her. She even thought that maybe Tipsy's death had powered the runes, but she had died quiet some distance away, and contact or near contact had to be established for the ritual to draw power. She picked up her baby, cradling her in her arms, checking for injuries, but there were none, save for the Sól rune etched on her forehead, a dark red colour underneath, most likely from the blood loss and the reaction of the runic ritual.
She moved over to where Dumbledore was examining the robes and wand of whoever had been the intruder, though she could make a reasonable guess as to the identity of the intruder. She could see Sirius picking Harry up, who seemed asleep, and judging from the look on Sirius's face, alright. James made his way to her, an expression of worry etched on his face, dragging a finger across Olive's face, he asked her, "Is she alright?" a slight tinge of worry in his eyes that melted away when Olive leaned into his hand, gurgling nonsense that sounded like music to her parents' ears.
"How is Harry?" Lily asked James, looking towards the hallway, where Sirius had gone to take Harry to his own room.
"Harry is alright, not any injury that we could see, but we should take him to St. Mungos later on, along with Olive here," James replied in a voice that was unusually calm and stoic for a person such as him.
They both moved to where Albus was standing, a wand and cloak in hand, seemingly in deep thought, but as soon as they reached him, he snapped out of whatever he was thinking about, looking towards them with an expression that suggested, that he knew already what they wanted to talk about.
"What happened here Albus? Is Olive okay? Was Voldemort here? Is the prophecy fulfilled? Is he gone now?" James fired a rapid stream of questions to the Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, wanting to know what happened to his children in his home, from the only person who seemed to know something.
Albus adjusted his half-moon spectacles, with his eyes starting to regain their twinkle, as he replied, "What happened here is that Tom decided that he needed to kill your daughter in order to destroy who he thought would be his vanquisher. I never did think that Tom would believe in Divination this much, especially after he himself did not seem to have the inner eye for it. Hmm, maybe that's why, he was afraid, maybe, that this unknown magic, that he had no idea about, would end up bringing his ruin….Perhaps…" the last part was said in a lower tone of voice, as Albus Dumbledore had started to contemplate the circumstances that would have led to Tom choosing the Potter child, and on the Hallows Eve at that.
"Albus! What about Olive, you said Voldemort would come after the Prophecy child, so the prophecy is now done and dusted, right? He is gone, isn't he?" James asked in slight hysterics at having no idea what happened to his family and what would be happening in the future. Sirius was standing side-by-side to James, wand out to his side, glowing faintly, as if to release his magic on any threats still hidden near them.
Lily herself had gone back to looking at her daughter's face, or more specifically the rune etched on her forehead, the Lightning Bolt glowing a Dark Red, as if mocking her for her inability to figure out the circumstances behind its appearance.
"James, my boy, I do not think we have to worry about young Olive at all, although fulfilment of the Prophecy is a whole different thing, for I believe that he is not gone for good," he replied, the twinkle in his eyes dimming somewhat at this admission.
"But the good news is that he is gone for now, and young Olive Potter here, is responsible for sending him to his temporary demise," he continued, the twinkle coming back, albeit to a lower level than previously, as Lily came near him, having given up on trying to figure out the rune, and coming to ask the person who would know about this more than her.
"But HOW Albus? How did the protection ritual take place? No sacrificial magic happened here, and no one was here with power enough to activate the runes? HOW?!" Lily asked, practically shouting by the last part, only stopping when it looked like she would wake her daughter up.
"Aaah, I believe that is the power my dear, that was mentioned in the prophecy, 'but they or in this case she will have the Power the Dark Lord knows not'," he recited from memory, the already going through the words of the Prophecy again and again in an effort to glean anything more out of the Prophetic words.
"And this Lightning Bolt, the Sól rune, marks her as the Dark Lord's equal," said Dumbledore as he traced the Lightning bolt with his finger, looking for something far away, and moving his hand and gaze away from the youngest Potter, when he did not find it.
"I believe, what happened here, is that Tom came through the entrance, having bypassed the secret with the help of the secret keeper," "PETER!" Albus was interrupted here by the growling sound coming from Sirius' mouth, similar to the sound he would make in his animagus form, and the look of outrage on James face, though all of it was dwarfed by the aura that started to almost physically emanate from Lily Potter, her head down, not looking at her daughter but seeing something far away, the aura not affecting the daughter sleeping in her lap, but even making Dumbledore take a moment to concentrate his Occlumency barriers in order to compose himself, while James and Sirius looked on in concern as Olive's Toy Rat Plushy burst into fire from the top shelf on where it was resting.
"Ahhem, as I was saying, Peter disclosed the secret to Voldemort, who came in through the front door, killed your house elf," there was barely any reaction this time, just a bare tightening of James' fists at the thought of the death of the elf who helped raising him, and had been in his family for generations.
"And then proceeded up the stairs, where someone, presumably young Harry, closed the door to the nursery in an effort to stop Voldemort, who just blasted through and banished Harry to the corner of the room, and maybe he hit his head on a wall and lost consciousness. Then I believe Tom cast the Killing Curse on Olive Potter whose power activated and sent the Killing Curse back to Voldemort, thereby stripping his soul from his body, the soul that ran away for some time, but whom I suspect, will come back to finish the job he started, and as far as he is concerned, kill the Prophecy child to become truly immortal," Albus ended his explanation of things with a hint of graveness and tiredness at the prospect of another fight in the future against Lord Voldemort.
"I also suspect that the burst of young Olives' power is what has led to her magical exhaustion, but we will need to get them to Pomfrey, for a check-up to make sure that nothing is amiss," he added as he walked out of the nursery, the other three following behind, Lily having never put Olive down for even a second, fearing whatever may happen.
After it took all three a few minutes to process all of what had been said, they had reached the bottom of the stairs, where Albus turned around and told them that, "We will need to prepare young Olive for when Voldemort regains his body and decides to come after her. We also need to learn about the power that the Dark Lord knows not, for I believe that it is the only way that we will be able to defeat Tom, once and for all," he ended, none of them aware that the mysterious power that they were talking about, was sleeping soundly in his room upstairs, unaware of the course that history had taken, unaware of his future, unaware of the trials, the obstacles, and the grave dangers that he would be facing in the future, or of how his happy little carefree life of a 4-year old would be changing in the future.
The day after Halloween went by in a rush for just about everyone. Everybody had found out about the ruse of Sirius Black being the Potter Secret Keeper and the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the story of the night had gotten out, somehow and been bent and twisted to unfathomable proportions. Some theories suggested that little Olive Potter was the reincarnation of Morgana le Fay, the most infamous and powerful witch in the history of magic, others suggested that Olive Potter was a prodigy greater than anyone else, and had sent back the Unforgivable to kill Voldemort, some were even insane enough to think that the 1-year old had time travelled into her young body to kill the Dark Lord. Among these stories, one had even suggested that Dumbledore was hiding the truth, and it was actually Harry Potter, the older Potter child, who had somehow defeated You-Know-Who, but this was quickly discarded as well. In the end, the Potters, along with Albus Dumbledore, had to give their statements to the journalists of leading newspapers from all across the globe, saying something along the lines of Olive Potter defeating the Dark Lord through a mysterious power that was actually a Potter family secret (to stop the prying journalists from prying further into the matter), and so the legend of The-Girl-Who-Lived was given birth that day.
Another legend was born that day, unknown to anyone, as a boy continued to sleep in the hospital bed of St. Mungos, every test on him having come out as normal, and since he had exhibited not a single symptom of magical exhaustion, he had been cleared for release. All this would been perfectly normal, if not for the fact that the boy's magical core was unusually large for his age, and the barely detectable magic in the 4-year old, which would have been the norm for a child of this age, if somewhat on the lower side of things, was the amount that the depleted core had restored in the time between the wild magic's explosion and the subsequent arrival of the group of four adults and two children two St. Mungos.
On the other hand, young Olive's magical core's depletion had confirmed Dumbledore's theories for everyone present, and the head healer's check-up had even revealed that the core was filling at an unusually fast rate. Albus Dumbledore explained this away as Olive being the Dark Lord's equal, so she would have a core that would be equal in strength to what Tom would have had when he was 1 year old, and considering his exploits, it too would have been larger than the average.
After the check-up and the subsequent release of the two children, the Potters had relocated to the Potter manor, and had a reunion with Remus Lupin, who had been called back from his mission of recruiting werewolves for the cause of Light, since the demise of the Dark Lord had made the task independent. The werewolf had been shocked, both at the attack, and the fact that Peter had been the traitor, even hurt and angry because of the fact that his best friends had thought him a traitor and so, did not tell him about the switch. The reunion had been bittersweet, but they were Remus' pack, and this thing would not have taken him away from them, so he remained.
Another unusual thing that happened was the change in Harry's behaviour, when earlier, he was a curious child, with a thirst for knowledge so big, that the Marauders sometimes even joked that he might get placed in Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor, the days after Halloween, he became unusually quiet. When before he could be seen spending much time in the library, nowadays, most of the time, he could be found in his room, or in the manor grounds, sometimes even in the surrounding forest, always deep in thought, as if carrying the entire weight of the world on his little shoulders.
When asked about it, everybody, ranging from Lily to James to Sirius to Remus, everyone had got the same answer of "I am fine." and a smile that had started from being visibly forced to becoming deceptively real. If they had asked the headmaster to look into the matter, it would have become clear as to what was going on in Harry's mind, for Albus Dumbledore was an accomplished practitioner of Legillimency, the art of magically navigating through the layers of a person's mind, and interpreting the findings in a correct manner, or in Layman's terms, the art of mind reading. And he was not above probing a defenceless 4-year olds' mind in order to accomplish his goals, for his Greater Good. It would have also become clear to Dumbledore (and everyone he chose to tell) that Harry Potter was not just swatted away that night by the Dark Lord, but instead he had been the main source of power for the powering of the ritual, a seemingly impossible task, that would have made Dumbledore aware of the scale of Harry magical potential, and he would have taken matters into his own hands to prevent the rise of another Dark Lord during his time, by sending Harry to live with Lily's muggle sister, thereby hindering his magical growth and making it so that Harry would forever consider the wizarding world as his safe heaven, but alas, Dumbledore was busy at the moment, travelling around the world, sending letters and messages, asking for information and searching for instances, where a Killing Curse had been reflected back to its caster, a seemingly impossible feat, but if found, whose occurrence would shed some light upon the mysterious power of one Olive Potter.
So, the thoughts of one Harry Potter stayed true to himself, as he applied what little he knew, into what he saw on the Halloween night, to make sense of things for himself. Obviously, his family would have intervened more about his attitude, but whatever free time they had, was spent fussing over Olive, and as they believed that spending time with kids his age would help Harry in opening up a bit more, and since he was more intelligent than other 4-year olds, getting him admission in kindergarten made sense and thus a system was established. One where Harry would take the Floo network to reach The Leaky Cauldron, accompanied by an adult, who would drop him off at school, and at the end of the school day, someone would pick him up the same way.
James would have argued that Harry needed to be home-schooled like most wizarding children were, but, with the end of war, daily-life had resumed and James and Sirius barely had time away from home to dote on their daughter and god-daughter respectively. Remus was again off to look for work in the muggle world, and Lily had to take care of young Olive so she could not exactly spare time to teach young Harry. Dumbledore had also agreed with the decision.
Another event of note took place a few days after the Halloween night, when the Longbottom manor was attacked by the Inner Circle Death Eaters of Lord Voldemort : Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus Lestrange, his brother Rabastan, and the then head of DMLE's son, Barty Crouch Junior, all four of them overpowering the Longbottom wards with their rage fuelled attack, demanding to know about their Lords' location from a family who nothing about it, but they had been given orders earlier, to scout the Longbottom manor, because it was of import, and they could only reach the conclusion that the Longbottoms had some knowledge about their Lords' disappearance, and why their Dark marks had dimmed.
A brutal fight had ensued, and the two Longbottoms: Frank and Alice would surely have lost to the numbers game, for none of the four death eaters were of the weaker sort, but Frank had remained cautious, and despite Dumbledores' assurances that Voldemort was gone for now, he had refused to remove the alerting ward that would signal the DMLE in case of a breach in the wards at Longbottom manor. The alert had sounded in the Ministry and the aurors had reacted reaching the Apparition point outside Longbottom estate within minutes and rushing in to subdue, just as Bellatrix and Rodolphus had started to cast Cruciatus, the Torture Curse, upon the couple, who were withering and screaming on the manor floor, while wailing sounds could be heard from within the manor, presumably from Neville's nursery. The aurors had carted the quartet to the Ministry in full body bind, with magic suppressing shackles on their wrists, and their wands taken away, although subduing Bellatrix Lestrange had been a task that took four aurors, and then too, one of them had to be taken to St. Mungos. Frank and Alice had to stay in the Hospital for a few days, but, much to everyone's relied, there was no permanent damage, and they were released after a week and a half.
The subsequent months saw the Potters, the Longbottoms along with the entire wizarding world carrying on with their lives like usual. Unfortunately, this also included a significant amount of Death Eaters pleading innocence and claiming the Imperius Defence, a law dating back hundreds of years, to get away Scott free, and become respected members of the society. This process could have been stopped, and the Death Eater trials could have included a Veritaserum test as well, if the combined might of the Potters, the Blacks, and the Longbottoms had put pressure on the Wizengamot, but amidst all the chaos surrounding Halloween and then the attack on Longbottom Manor, money changed hands under the table, and the trials were conducted in a swift manner, with most of the purported Inner Circle released back into free society, while the devout followers of the Dark Lord, including the Lestranges, Antonin Dolohov, Walden Macnair and others were carted to the maximum security wing in Fort Azkaban.
Peter Pettigrew had also been caught, a week from Halloween, near the country's borders, scurrying away as a rat, trying to exit Britain, but the anti-animagus wards had been erected with surprising efficiency, and Peter Pettigrew was never the smartest of wizards, so laying a trap and laying in wait had borne fruit, and the rat had fallen into their trap, and sent on a one way trip to Azkaban.
-Scene Change-
After months of travelling all around the world, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had returned to Britain, full of knowledge and wisdom, that might have been interesting at any other time, but was not what he was looking for.
As the Headmaster of the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry entered the castle, he was greeted by an irate witch, a woman who looked to be in her early 50s but was actually over 70 years of age.
"Albus! You are back ! And right in time for the New Year Celebration as well! Why, I thought that you had permanently made me the headmistress of the school and went adventuring around the world," said Minerva Mcgonagall, transfiguration Professor, and the current acting Headmistress of Hogwarts in the absence of Albus. She looked absolutely drained, with black marks under her eyes from lack of sleep, but also mildly relieved, for the last few months had been quiet stressful, what with a lot of parents sending their children to the school again, the admission of a great number of muggleborns, the still ongoing celebrations across the country, that tended to spill over to the mundane side, and had to be contained by a growing team of Obliviators - that was becoming more and more skilful at the usage of their primary spell, having Obliviated thousands of individuals over the few months - , and most importantly, the remnants of the dangerous, and sometimes even deadly rivalry among the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin, that was just starting to calm down into a more manageable state. Overall, Albus could see that Minerva was starting to look all 70plus years of her age, rather than what she looked like, even during the height of war.
"Why Minerva, I thought you enjoyed being in-charge of your little Gryffindors, being in-charge of a few more could not be much more difficult, could it?" he replied with a twinkle in his eyes that was far too infuriating for the Acting headmistress, as they both continued to move along the corridors, both the magicals moving with gracefulness and speed that people their age could not hope to possess, and finally reached the staircase that led to the Headmasters' office.
"Ah cannae….Ye baw juggler…." She practically hissed, shifting to her native old Scottish gaelic language out of sheer habit, as she contemplated lighting his beard on fire, if that would get his twinkle to tone down somewhat.
The statue parted away without the need of a password, and they both climbed along the staircase, to reach an office that would have just about all the muggleborns, and even a lot of halfbloods and purebloods looking around in awe and astonishment, at seeing the vast office, with an ornate chair behind the desk, and a room so full of magical trinkets, left behind by previous headmasters, that it would have taken months, if not years to figure out all of them. A dusty old hat rested on a bookshelf, and finally, a red and gold creature, out of myth, rested on a perch, awaiting the arrival of its companion.
'The office hasn't changed at all, still the same way as I left it, truly, you are my most loyal and trustworthy friend after all, Minerva," thought Albus while feeling the warmth in his heart at this gesture from his close friend and confidante.
He sat down on his chair, while Minerva sat patiently in another, across the desk from the Headmaster, patiently waiting for him to start talking.
"I believe your quest was unsuccessful then," she asked after it looked like the silence would linger for more than a minute.
Albus gave a loud and expressive sigh, as he pressed his elbows on the table, leaning forward to look in his Transfiguration professors' eyes as he replied, "Alas, Minerva, my quest was indeed a failure. 2 months and I still have no idea as to what happened at the Potter Cottage on the night of Halloween. I have many theories, mind you, but they are just that, theories, and until I know more, I cannot fully reach a meaningful conclusion."
"So, are you going to go again, Albus! You know you can't leave the castle for too long, you have responsibilities as the Headmaster," said an irritated Minerva, she wanted her Gryffindor house back, Albus could get back to handling the school, she was entirely too happy with her job as a transfiguration professor, thank you very much.
Albus sighed tiredly, rubbed his half-moon spectacles and replied, "Yes Minerva, I am very much aware of my responsibilities as the Headmaster of the school, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot as well as my duties as the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. I will not be leaving Scotland for this long, not for quite some time, but now, I have to talk to someone else, so that they can take over this task," he ended while leaning back in his chair, apparently finished with the conversation.
Minerva understood his need to be alone, even if she was a bit miffed about it, but regular business was in progress now, and she had her duties as Deputy Headmistress, and Head of Gryffindor House to take back, so she got out of the chair, moving towards the staircase, although she did turn around near the end, asking one of the questions on her mind.
"But who will be able to take over this task, surely nobody is as skilled and qualified as you are Albus," she asked, aware of the capabilities of her mentor of one time, and her friend.
"The only people who would be able to continue this search my dear, will be the ones who have the primary source of this quest, and who may be able to get some answers, by letting their daughter interact with the highly skilled individuals in their own fields of magic," he answered, and upon seeing the look of realization on her face, continued, " Yes, Minerva, it is time for the Potters to go looking for answers by themselves, and perhaps take little Olive with them, so that their quest may bore fruit."
A/N-1: So this was the epilogue, I know, not much dialogue but bear with me, the story won't have so many long paragraphs without dialogue for a very, very long time. Also, please ignore the minor mistakes in my writing, as I said, I would be taking a BETA reader, only if the story has any takers.
A/N-2: Also, this would not be one of those angsty, drama fics, with 'forgive me, forgive me not' sequences in the Potter household, I have read too many of those. My Harry would be having fun instead, having hilarious and sometimes dangerous adventures that may very well have landed in the Boy-Who-Lived books in the Potterverse, if anyone knew about them.
