One fateful All Hallows Eve, Voldemort was vanquished by an infant. In his haste to 'protect' their future savior, Albus left young Potter on the doorstep of less than tolerant muggles and assumed all would go according to plan.

Then a few days later, it's discovered he never made it through the door. The Light had lost the greatest hope of the Wizarding world. The Dark Lord still wishes to guarantee his grand return is unhindered. Years of searching and experimentation from both camps yield what could be the answer to their prayers.

Initiating vaguely worded summonings is questionable at best.

Or

The sides of Light and Dark both have terrible ideas yet somehow Dumbledore's is worse; the plans to make a martyr for the greater good and tie up loose ends to insure the Deatheaters' victory unravel spectacularly; one angry Chaos Mage is yanked onto the mortal plane against their will while another storms in hellbent on tearing the wizarding world apart in search of something precious followed by a slew of concerned 'family'...

And the smartest ones in any room can't talk. Not that they'd bother if they could.

Yes, another plunnie.

#3...2...1...GO!#

"A being of light?" The Deputy Headmistress cast a wary glance at the massive ancient tome her superior waved about gayly.

"Yes Minerva. Think of it, a pure form of magic untouched by darkness. Incorruptible!" Dumbledore was quite pleased with his discovery. "With this ritual, we can harness it's power to return young Potter to us. Into safe hands."

While Fawkes really liked the idea of the young one being returned or at least knowing the child was alright, over the past decade, the phoenix began to doubt 'safe hands' belonged to any in this room. Right now, the leader of the light and his Order stood in the Black Manor's front parlor late in the morning. Laying out the groundwork of an ancient spell to 'return what hath been lost, by grace of the Light".

If he could have, the bird would've face palmed.

First of all, any nitwit knows capital letters are for proper names. That said, this Light was most likely sentient. If asked, politely, it might deign to assist them. However, if Albus thought he was going to force such an entity to bend to his will with crudely drawn squiggles, well then decades of those god awful lemon drops must have rotted his mind instead of his teeth.

"Almost high noon." Mad Eye announced, clicking his pocket watch shut. "We ought begin now Dumbledore."

"Yes, yes quite true. Places round the circle everyone."

What appeared in the center of the design was a small child in the most bizarre reminded Remus of pictures he had seen of Arabic dancers. A thin swath of loosely hanging silk fabric that barely passed as a top. Wide strips of sheer fabric connected by a series of gold disks strung together like a belt covered the legs which were otherwise bare save a 4 gold bangles on one ankle and a string of 7 more pear shaped emeralds on the other. The feet bare but lacking any dirt or other sign of wear. Similar cloth comprised the shawl secured to the ornate bracelets about thin wrists. A gold circlet showed on a lightly tanned forehead centered with a rich pear cut green emerald; a tiny butterfly dangling from it resting askew on the skin. Barrettes and beads of the same precious materials adorned long black hair. Every jewel and piece of cloth some shade of green.

Unquestionably the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. Was this even a boy, muchless Harry? If so...where was that famous scar?

Terrified, the boy (are we sure about that?) curled into a ball right on the floor. Babbling in a tongue that confounded the wizards. Sounding more like the plucking of harp strings and the clink of windchimes the child's rapid fire speech was lost on them. Still any idiot could tell the poor thing was frightened out of their mind.

Then again we're not talking about just any idiots.

Deep green pools looked up at the adults surrounding him on all sides. All wearing strange clothes, talking in some language they didn't understand. The plump red haired woman, a man with massive facial scars and an old one with a lot of white hair all moved closer at the same time.

"Harry my boy, it is good to see you again."

About then, Fawkes decided a fly in the noon day sun would be a wonderful idea.

Seeing the advancing strangers did not intend to back off, the little one drew in a deep breath.

And SHREIKED.

Long and high pitched like a banshee.

Every piece of glass in the dilapidated structure exploded. Even Moody's magical eye cracked. The very foundation began to quake, buckling with threat to collapse.

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Weasley covered her ears and attempted to approach the scared child. "Calm down deary. No will hurt you-"

"Stupefy!" The red stunner struck head on, instantly silencing the noise.

"Moody, was that really necessary?!" Tonks gasped once the kid went limp.

"Aye, unless you were anxious to dig out of the ruins of this shack lass," The Ex Auror rolled his...eye. The wonky blue one wasn't doing anything but lazily listing to one side of the socket. The long crack occasionally sputtering a spark.

If only they had realized the pandora's box they'd opened.

Someone might have taken pity on Voldemort and personally tried to dissuade him from following a very similar summons...

#3...2...1...GO!#

I would love to keep going when I have time but am dubious about my knowledge of the HPverse (90% of what i know came for other fanfics :P).

Let me know whatcha think. Remember this is a plot bunnie so updates are not guaranteed.

Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.