Albus Dumbledore, known as one of the greatest wizards who ever lived, gave out a sigh as a monitoring device on one of his shelves shuddered and fell still. That particular monitor had been linked to the vitals of James and Lily Potter. He'd finally done it then, Voldemort had found and killed the Potter family. While there was still a chance that the situation could be salvaged if Sybil's prophecy had been triggered, by the time he could get there James and Lily would certainly be dead, even with Fawkes assisting him.
Riddle had obviously managed to find the secret-keeper, since the Potters had been foolish enough to select someone who lived outside the cottage they were hiding in. He'd warned them of the most obvious precautions before he'd performed the ritual – sadly, his own role was too involved to choose both the secret and its keeper. He'd thought he'd made it clear it should have been either James or Lily, so he was most disappointed to learn they had made it someone else. He highly suspected they had trusted the secret to that dog Black, but the handwritten note had been destroyed by his own hand in anger before he confirmed it.
It had been too late to change it by that point anyway. Secrets like those were taken to the grave, literally. Only by death of the secret or voluntary release by the ritual caster could a secret under Fidelius be released into the wider world. It was also the best way to ensure the secret was never revealed - the Isle of Avalon was a prime example, since Merlin's death had essentially wiped it from existence.
At the moment though, he had work to do. Walking over to his phoenix familiar, he gently prodded the bird to wakefulness. The bird fixed him with a ruby eye, annoyance plain on its features.
"Do not blame me for the timing of our foes. We have work that must be done tonight, old friend." With that explanation Fawkes nodded, and hopped onto Albus' shoulder. "Hagrid first, then to Godric's Hollow." He received another nod from the firebird before the two of them disappeared into flame and reappeared on the castle grounds near a rough hut.
Walking quickly and rapping smartly on the door, Albus did not have long to wait before it was opened by the half-giant, holding a wicked knife in one hand and a haunch of beef in the other. Hagrid took one look at the stern expression on the headmaster's face and knew a tragedy had befallen.
"Who's it this time?" he asked roughly.
"The Potters," Albus replied solemnly. "Bring your club, and your umbrella." Hagrid nodded grimly, burying the knife is the cutting board, laying the meat on the table and washing his hands quickly, before retrieving the items requested. He had been fighting with Dumbledore long enough to know that when he was asked for the umbrella, it was going to be particularly unpleasant. Fetching his magical umbrella and a club made from a dragon femur, he grabbed on as the phoenix extended a feather, before the two of them disappeared from Hogwarts.
XXX
They appeared to a scene of devastation. The cottage that had once held the Potter family looked like it had been declared a war zone. Albus and Hagrid moved quickly into the house, fully exposed now that the secret no longer needed to be kept. Hagrid growled as the two of them picked their way through the first floor to find the late James Potter amid the ruins. Albus held his comment at this fourth, and final, act of defiance of Voldemort from the Potter Head. He knew that the scene would only be repeated upstairs. The two of them moved carefully, as the top floor seemed to have been the epicenter of the explosion that had laid waste to the house.
They entered the nursery to find two bodies, but not the ones they had expected. Near the door, slumped into the wall and almost partially through it, was the still form Albus recognised as Tom Riddle, the self-styled Voldemort. Near the crib, being gently moved as Hagrid turned her over, was the body of Lily Potter. Miraculously though, inside the undamaged crib in the middle of the destroyed room, lay the living form of the Potter's only son. Albus watched in amazement as the boy stirred. He quickly bundled the toddler up, noting the small cut on his forehead.
"Hagrid, bring the bodies outside. I need to get to the Longbottoms to give Harry into their care for the interim." The half-giant nodded silently, picking up Lily with an almost reverential gentleness and putting her over his shoulder. He roughly grabbed Riddle by the skull as he passed, dragging the Dark Lord's body through the destruction he had no doubt caused. He threw Riddle's body haphazardly onto the lawn through the window, before licking up James' body with similar care to Lily's. He carefully moved them outside, carefully laying them on the ground away from Riddle's corpse.
Both men were distracted from their tasks by the sound of a roaring motorbike descending from the clouds. Albus looked suspiciously, whereas Hagrid just reached for his club. The bike landed quickly, the driver revealed to be none other than Sirius Black. He took mere seconds as he looked from the bodies of James and Lily, Voldemort, and finally the child in Dumbledore's arms, before he ran forward in a blind rage.
"NOOO!" Sirius shouted as he ran. Dumbledore was about to hex the running man before Hagrid beat him to it, the age-hardened dragonbone colliding with Black's ribs and sending him flying. Hagrid raised the club to finish the traitor, before a hand on his arm stopped him.
"He's more useful to us alive, for now," Albus explained. Hagrid looked about to argue, before Albus' glare stopped him. "I need your help now Hagrid. Take Harry to Poppy, get him proper treatment, the Longbottoms will have to wait for now. Take Black and put him in the cell next to Severus for now. The Potters also should be taken to the castle until a proper burial can be arranged. Use Black's bike."
"What about that?" Hagrid spat, indicating the Dark Corpse.
"In death, Tom Riddle can provide a service still, but only if I move quickly. Go, Hagrid." Albus helped pile the burden onto Black's bike and waited until Hagrid was airbourne, before turning back to Riddle's body. Performing an extremely old and complex magic that was all but forgotten, he looked at the resulting lights as they danced around Riddle's body.
"Oh Tom, you had to do it, didn't you?" Albus asked the remains rhetorically. "Death cannot be escaped, not even by the means you have chosen." Albus sighed again, plans for his retirement made on the premise of Riddle's defeat shelved indefinitely now that he knew how the Dark Lord had tried to cheat death. His words to Hagrid were now doubly true, for there were things that needed to be done to remove the threat if Riddle returned quickly. Fawkes took wing and left, disgusted at seeing the darkness that had once been Riddle's mortal soul.
Albus shrunk the body and walked away with it carefully in his pocket. As he did, he wondered about Black's reaction. Was it grief for his friend, or for Riddle that had driven him into the family's famed Black Rage?
He can work it off in the dungeon next to Severus until we find out, Albus thought to himself. He shook his head at the thought of the potion prodigy. He knew that the sallow youth had been swayed by Riddle and his sycophants late in his Hogwarts years. He knew that he'd also been the one to tell Riddle part of the prophecy, when he'd come back to Dumbledore after he learned of Lily giving birth to Harry. He'd been a sobbing mess, and it hadn't been hard for Albus to peer into his mind and learn that as much as he hated James Potter and himself, he still held a candle for Lily Evans, one of his first friends.
Such wasted potential, Albus had thought, before locking him in the Hogwarts dungeons. It hadn't been hard to get the young man to agree to make potions for the school; it was either that or go mad from boredom sitting in his cell. He wondered idly if Black would be seen as a break in the monotony for Severus.
Such idle speculation would have to wait while Dumbledore worked on the next thing: finishing off Riddle permanently. The first step in that would be a stop to Minister Bagnold's office. She might be at home, but was more likely asleep in her office again. Dumbledore turned on the spot and apparated directly into the Minister's office, bypassing most of the wards due to his authority as the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He found Millicent like he'd expected, slumped over the desk napping over operation reports. Not for long though, for no sooner than he'd fully materialized was she firing all cylinders with wand pointed at him, already incanting one of the more obscure medical hexes used to debride burned flesh from a wound. Albus smiled grimly at the reminder that Healers sometimes made for the most devious enemies as he brushed the curse aside.
"Albus, to what do I have the dubious pleasure of your company?" she asked tightly. Despite the outward hostility, Albus generally liked Millicent Bagnold. She was a tough but fair opponent, and no political slouch. She had made the Wizengamot fun again, extending his service to the body just as he had considered pulling back.
"Sadly, business. I need you to activate your powers from the recent Policing Act and cede me the emergency powers."
"Albus, I'm not going to commit political suicide by just handing you absolute power over the magical UK. Not unless you've got Voldemort in chains in your pocket, and if you do, I'm the fucking Queen of Sheba." she drawled in reply. Albus' grim smile never wavered.
"Well, he's not exactly in chains, your Majesty," Albus said semi-mockingly, as he pulled out Riddle's body. Millicent nearly fell out of her chair before she realised it was just a body.
"Well fuck me," she said quietly. "Finally got on your bad side, did he?"
"Sadly, I cannot take the credit for this. Riddle's life came at the expense of James and Lily Potter." Millicent nodded grimly, she was unfortunately used to hearing about casualties in these dark times.
"If he's dead, then why do you need the emergency powers?" she asked after a moment's silence.
"Unfortunately, what you see here is only mostly dead. In a misguided effort at immortality, Tom Riddle has used necromantic magic to split his soul and anchor it to this mortal coil. His supporters have no doubt been told what to do in the case of his apparent demise, and I would rather not give them the opportunity. Besides, Crouch has been champing at the bit to try and get Lucius Malfoy and his ilk."
"I wish you luck then Albus. Because if this doesn't work, then we're both looking at exile, at the very least."
"And if it does, you and I will be hailed as heroes for the next several decades. Which would you prefer as your legacy?"
"Fine, I'll do it then, if it'll get you out of my office and let me sleep until dawn." Millicent Bagnold pulled out a piece of parchment she'd been dreading using, and read the magical statute therein.
"I, Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic, do hereby declare a state of emergency in the realm of magical Britain. In doing so, I call upon the emergency powers granted by the Policing Act 1981, and invest it in the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore. So mote it be."
"I, Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, do accept these powers and swear to use them to faithfully serve the realm. So mote it be." A flash of light signaled the acceptance of the magical statute. "Go to sleep Millicent. It'll be a new world in the morning."
"I hope so Albus. This one was getting pretty bleak." Millicent Bagnold put her head back on the desk and was asleep almost before Dumbledore left the office, Riddle's shrunken body once more in his possession.
XXX
Albus' next stop was the DMLE, where he knew Bartemius Crouch would still be directing operations. He walked into the operations centre to find it a hub of activity, even at this late hour.
"Dumbledore, what do you want?" Crouch asked gruffly over the operation map.
"How would you like to arrest the Death Eaters currently on the Wizengamot?" Albus asked with a small grin.
"You mean Malfoy and his cronies? The ones who thanks to some clever little amendments over the last five years are nearly impossible to prosecute?" he replied even more gruffly.
"Say that the situation has changed, and there is a more... amenable arrangement I am considering." Albus replied.
"Only if you've been granted those emergency powers from that near-toothless policing act," Crouch replied. Albus just smiled serenely, and Crouch just could see more that a little malevolence in that grin.
"Well then, let us sit down and talk, the two of us," Crouch said in a much more genial mood.
The two of them talked for a moment about Albus' plan, working on the details, before Albus felt a shift in magic. He concentrated for a moment and followed the shift to the operations centre. There, the currently-rostered Duty Captain was examining several devices and maps, her face a sour mask.
"Amelia, what is happening?"
"The Longbottom Lodge is under attack, but it's happening too fast. Whoever is there has already breached the wards and is casting illegal spells."
"That shouldn't be possible. The War Wards on the Lodge are legendary," Crouch replied.
"We can debate impossibilities later. Send out those summons Crouch, I'll be ready for them in the morning." Albus disapparated quickly, Crouch jumping to action an instant after. He would not let an attack on one of his best Aurors go unanswered.
"Amelia, who have we got available right now?" he shouted.
"We've got Moody and Shacklebolt on call, and six others on operations."
"Get Moody and Shacklebolt to Longbottom Lodge as soon as possible, then call up the off-duty roster. I need everybody available for tomorrow morning, but they need to be briefed first." Amelia nodded, then began to action her orders.
XXX
Albus apparated in right to the middle of a bloody battle. No formal duel ever got this bad. Voldemort must have been hedging his bets on the blasted prophecy, taking the Potters for himself and sending his most sadistic sycophants for the Longbottom family. Albus ducked a wayward curse from Rastaban Lestrange and joined the fray. Alice was on the ground, injured from the looks of it but still alive. Frank was standing over her, fighting Rudolphus and Bellatrix, while the venerable Augusta fought Rastaban. The Longbottoms were hard-pressed and losing to the mix of bloody-mindedness and Dark Arts the Lestrange trio were using.
Albus immediately jumped in, upsetting Bella's spell at Frank. Unfortunately, the shock of Albus entering the battle for their side drew Frank's attention for a single vital second, enough for Rudolphus to land a fatal spell on the auror. Frank's body landed and Alice and Augusta screamed, triggering the release of something Albus had managed to chain inside for nearly forty years: the slayer of Grindlewald.
Albus turned to the Lestrange trio, and they suddenly knew why he was the only man their master ever feared. They tried to fight him, but he had become something more, and less, than human. His magic swirled around him like a typhoon as he hurled raw, destructive magic at them and they tried to survive. Powerful they might be, but Albus was in a class of his own as he cut them all to bloody ribbons.
By the time Moody and Shacklebolt appeared on the scene, it was finished. Albus stood there as his face returned to something resembling normal, heavily breathing. Young Kingsley immediately went outside as his mind tried to process the amount of blood that was spattered on Dumbledore's robes, all the inner surfaces of the room, and the three piles of moaning meat that were barely alive. As his partner was violently sick, Moody walked up to Albus and whistled low.
"Didn't do a half job of them. Who were they, if I may ask?"
"The Lestranges. Forgive me for not leaving much to identify them, but they're alive for questioning, for a given value of alive."
"And a given value of question I'd say," Moody murmured. "What brought all this on?"
Albus sighed wearily. "Too much death Alastor, and two children who will never know their parents through the actions of a madman."
Moody just nodded silently. A sob from behind them turned his attention as he saw Augusta leaning over Frank and Alice. Frank was visibly dead, there was no way to be alive missing that much of a torso, but Alice looked very much alive. Moody instantly was on them, performing the emergency aid charms he knew to stabilize the younger woman.
"Albus," he called out, getting the older man's attention. Dumbledore turned away from his latest victims, feeling only a sense of failure at yet more of his students having been led astray. He saw Moody working on Alice, and a fire came into his eyes. Damn the prophecy, the boys would have parents to grow up with if he had anything to say about it.
"Alastor, is she stable enough to transport?" Albus asked.
"Aye, but it's too far to St Mungo's."
"Hogwarts is closer, and for tonight, safer. I'll make a Portkey for you and her directly to the infirmary." He conjured up a simple item and muttered the charm before handing it to Moody. He placed Alice's hand on it and the two of them disappeared in a flash of light. Albus moved over to Augusta, mourning over the corpse of her only son.
"Augusta, there will be a time to mourn for the dead, but for now we must attend to the living. Where is Neville, is he safe?"
"Yes, he's in the nursery. How did this happen Albus? No one has ever breached the War Wards, not in nearly 1400 years," she said in a small voice.
"Voldemort was capable of a great many and terrible things Augusta, but he has been brought low tonight at enormous cost. We need to move quickly to ensure this never happens again. Which means I need you to take Neville to Hogwarts and make sure Alice lives through the night. We will bury Frank as he deserves, but not tonight. This time is for the living, another will be for the dead."
His words spurred her to action, climbing slowly to her feet and heading toward the nursery to collect the sleeping Neville, unawoken due to the charms on the room. As she returned she found that Albus had already conjured a sheet over Frank's body, and was holding a corner of it. He handed it to her, then waited while she took it and the three of them disappeared. Satisfied, he went outside to the still-suffering Shacklebolt.
"I'm sorry, I can't recall your name at the moment," Albus said as he calmly cleaned the auror's robes.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt," came the unsteady reply.
"Sad that we couldn't be introduced in a more pleasant setting then. The situation here is contained, return to the Ministry and inform Crouch or whoever you need to report to that the Lestranges are here and in need of processing and medical attention, and that Frank Longbottom has been killed in action." He waited until the young man nodded and apparated away before he himself returned to Hogwarts.
XXX
Returning to Hogwarts, Albus left Augusta in the hands of his healer, the young Poppy Pomfrey, and then remembered the foul necromancy of Riddle. Such rituals performed in the number the fool had done would have left him unstable in more ways than one. Albus recalled the wound on Harry's forehead, and that the Killing curse had never left a mark before. He moved quickly down the beds to the makeshift nursery, where Hagrid was keeping guard over the sleeping child.
"How has he been?" Albus asked.
"Sleepin' like an angel. It's a shame the hell he'll wake up to."
"Perhaps not entirely. Alice Longbottom is alive for now, and hopefully will remain that way. He might not have a mother, but he will have a family. First though, there is something I must do."
Albus moved closer, carefully taking out his wand and casting a complex spell over the small boy. He cursed as the angry red wound on his temple exuded a malevolent shadow, which dissipated as the spell was cancelled.
"Wha' was that?" Hagrid asked.
"The result of Riddle's madness," Albus cursed morosely. He shook his head in disgust at Tom's unintentional horcrux. Inanimate horcruxes he could deal with, but living ones would need the services of a specialist curse breaker. He would contact the goblins later, after he had dealt with the Wizengamot.
Before he did though, he needed to do two things: to sleep, and to interrogate Black, and not in that order. He moved slowly down to the dungeons, ending up outside the door to Severus' cell. Looking in, the potion master seemed to be clutching his left arm in pain. At the sound of Albus opening the door, Snape looked up.
"Headmaster, do you realize what this means?" he asked, offering the arm for inspection. Albus looked at the Dark Mark, no longer its customary black but now an angry red, though already beginning to fade.
"It means that I will have an easier time identifying your confederates in the Wizengamot tomorrow," Albus replied without pity. "For now, I need veritaserum."
Snape moved over to his stores and pulled out a vial of clear liquid, hampered only slightly by the chain attaching his ankle to the wall. Handing over the vial, he looked into the older man's face, and saw only anger there.
"Can I assume that this is for the guest in the next cell?" he asked. Though he didn't see who had been placed there, he had certainly heard it.
"My business with Sirius Black is, as ever, none of your concern," Albus replied, not caring for the look of loathing on Snape's face. "However, I feel you deserve to know some of what has transpired tonight. Lily Potter was murdered by Tom Riddle."
With that the old man left the cell and locked it behind him, a silencing ward placed shortly after to cut off the sound of an anguished cry. He moved into the next cell to find Black still unconscious. Taking no pleasure in his task, Albus bound him in chains and dripped the potion into his unresisting mouth, before waking him magically. He noted the awareness that surfaced briefly, before his eyes glazed over.
"Are you a Death Eater?" Albus asked without preamble.
"No." Albus frowned slightly. This was not going the way he thought it would.
"Were you the secret keeper for James and Lily?"
"No." Albus frown grew more pronounced at the posthumous folly of the Potters. Not only did they choose their secret keeper badly, but it also appeared to be foolishly as well.
"Who was their secret keeper?" he asked.
"Peter Pettigrew."
At the name, several things became clear for Dumbledore. He'd suspected there was a spy within the Order, but he'd never thought it would be the craven little half-blood.
It's probably what had made him so successful in ratting them out. How appropriate a phrase, he thought to himself. He spent more time questioning Sirius, discovering that it was indeed grief that had driven him at Godric's Hollow, grief for the brother he wished he'd had. Albus found no new information on Death Eaters from Black, except the unexplained death of his younger brother Regulus. Albus waited until the potion wore off before releasing the now-sleeping Black and taking him to the infirmary. On the way he stopped at Snape's cell to hear him still in self-imposed torment. He would not be surprised the following morning when he found the potion master dead in his cell from a dose of poison, leaving only a note behind.
I didn't mean it, Lily. I'm so sorry.
XXX
Albus felt as if he had barely slept as he strode into the Wizengamot chambers just before dawn, his features grimly set. He nodded at Bagnold and Crouch already in their seats, and noted the Aurors around the chamber under disillusionment charms or invisibility cloaks. Soon, the first of the officials would be filtering in, and then the real work of changing the world would begin. Albus allowed himself a small smile at the thought that Riddle could only have dreamt of the power he was about to wield in this room.
As the appointed time came and went, Albus allowed ten minutes for the stragglers to come in. After that, he nodded lightly to Crouch and the doors to the chamber were sealed.
"Thank you all for appearing at such short notice to this emergency session. Before we begin, I am compelled to tell you all that I have assumed the emergency powers described in the recent Policing Act. As my first act I am striking down the following laws and all associated amendments: the Commerce Act 1978, the Sentient Creature Act 1945, the Education Standards Act 1953 and the Housing Act 1967."
Those who possessed the fastest minds on the Wizengamot noticed immediately that those acts so struck were the ones that had all the amendments over the years to benefit the purebloods, and only the purebloods, in Britain. On one side of the room those who had supported Voldemort, and in turn been supported by him, recognized that Albus was coming for them now, and by silent agreement moved towards the doors to escape. However, they found the doors sealed, and they themselves were shackled by invisible aurors and escorted back to their seats as discreetly as possible.
On the other side of the room, another pureblood of a neutral leaning also realized what was happening, though not the reason why.
"Point of order, Chief Warlock, on what action or authority are you assuming these powers?" asked Oberon Highgate. Albus looked to the old man with a piercing gaze, then took something out of his pocket and levitated the small item to the chamber floor. With a flick of his wand, the body of Tom Riddle was laid out full size, to a number of screams and gasps.
"Last night, Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, made a fatal mistake," Albus said in a calm, measured tone. "However, we as a society have allowed him to become the threat that he was through complacency, corruption and outright cowardice. For too long have I watched as you fools have pulled Britain further and further into the muck. For too long have I fought against a river of stupidity as calls of 'tradition' outweighed common sense. Now, I'm tired of all that, and I've decided to make some sorely-needed changes!" Albus was roaring as he finished, and none of the members, not even Bagnold and Crouch, were immune to the aura of fear he now seemed to exude.
"Starting now," Albus continued in a softer voice, "We change things so this never happens again." He sat down, and his aura diminished, but still held the crowd in thrall. "As of this moment, I am declaring martial law. First point, everyone in this chamber will prove to my satisfaction that they are not marred by the Dark Mark, nor have actively collaborated or colluded with the corpse here." Those men and women who had previously tried to escape now tried again, this time garnering more attention as they were brought down by spells. The Aurors responsible revealed themselves and brought their unconscious charges to the floor, where the left arms were checked. Albus was not surprised to see several of them with the Dark Mark, but several without it. He looked over them with his charmed glasses and saw the glamours there, and ended them with his wand, his power overcoming the glamour and revealing more skull and snake tattoos.
"Aurors, place them under arrest, all for murder in the first degree of at least one count. Ladies and Gentlemen, you will now come before Director Crouch, the Minister and myself and present your arms. Anyone else discovered with the dark Mark will be similarly arrested. Those who have chosen to forsake their summons to this meeting will have a warrant for their arrest on contempt charges and will not be treated favourably. Is this understood?" Some of the purebloods of all political standings tried to object to the abuse of power and removal of pureblood rights, but they found themselves at the other end of Dumbledore's glare.
"You speak of abuse of power?" Albus thundered incredulously. "Not twelve hours ago, this monster and three others ended the lives of three new parents, two of them Aurors and purebloods. That is abuse of power! Despite what he and his followers espoused, Tom Riddle himself was not a pureblood. You do not have the right to complain at this point, for you signed into law yourself the act that has given me the right to these powers. Your blood does not make you better than your fellow beings, your actions do. The only thing that makes your blood important is that while it's inside, you continue living! At this point, your actions are not looking good for you. If you are innocent, you have nothing to fear, isn't that right?" The objector gulped heavily, and then got in line to submit.
After they were done, there were five more Death Eaters who tried to attack their way out, only to be subdued. Albus shook his head sadly at the fact that a full third of the Wizengamot had been marked, at least of those who had turned up. He suspected the percentage of marked absentees would be higher still. He took a deep breath and pledged to work out a solution for the sudden deficit later. Perhaps by drafting in more of those of mixed heritage, since it was the purebloods hoarding power and privilege that had led them all to this juncture.
Riddle's death may be the catalyst for changing the wizarding world, Albus thought, just not as he imagined it. The Death Eaters on the council identified, Albus rammed the new trial procedure bill down their throats. All arrests would be followed with trial by veritaserum, the questions to be approved by defense counsel and prosecution beforehand.
XXX
Lucius Malfoy wasted no time in retaining the services of Boywe, Fookim and Howe for himself and several other prominent Death Eaters. Sadly, the defense counsellors and defendants were quickly disabused of the notion that well-meaning donations and mild threats were not met with the previous genial acceptance, but instead by adding charges to their arrest sheet and the defense counsel reminded of the magical penalties of disbarment.
It was a long day of short trials, which were almost all returned with a guilty verdict. A few of them proved to the jury of their fellow Wizengamot members that they were unwillingly forced to Voldemort's bidding. Those who tried to claim Imperius such as Malfoy were summarily shut down. In a move that was initially decried, but accepted by the council after a little heavy glaring from Dumbledore, the death penalty was temporarily reinstated for those who were found guilty. There were negotiations on how to reassign titles, fortunes and other privileges from the Lords found guilty, however they were not among the living by the end of the day.
XXX
It was a long, weary day when Albus finally retired to Hogwarts. He made a stop in the infirmary to see to his guests, hoping that it would not be bad news that greeted him. He was reassured when Poppy greeted him with a smile instead of a frown or grimace as he entered.
"How go your charges?" Albus asked.
"Better for time to rest and heal," Poppy answered. The elder man followed into the hospital ward as the two went inside to check the patients. The first bed they came across held Sirius Black.
"Headmaster," the bedside man said, acknowledging his host.
"Mr Black, I hope you've had a pleasant time."
"Sir, there are plenty of times I ended up here for good reasons. This is most definitely a bad one."
"I can understand," Albus replied.
"Sir… can I have Harry? I mean, I am his godfather, and with James and Lily dead…"
"I see no reason why not, but there will be other considerations."
"I understand. Just… keep me informed please."
"I shall endeavor to do so."
Leaving the side of Sirius, he moved onto the next bed where an unconscious Alice was lying. Augusta sat in a chair nearby, holding the sleeping Neville in her arms. Silent tears wound down her face as she looked at her daughter in law and grandson, and wept at the memory of her dead son.
"Augusta, are you alright?" Albus asked.
"I will be fine in time, I suspect," came the long-suffering reply. "Is it over Albus?" she asked as she turned to him. "I have buried a father, brothers, a husband, and now a son; all lost to these… madmen. Is it over now?"
"I have done all I can, my friend. I can only hope that others follow my example of standing against the darkness. Sadly, this isn't a fight that can be had once; it must be fought over and over against the inherent nature of the human soul."
"Then we shall have to keep fighting then. Now, I wish to make the arrangements for Franklin's memorial. Can I entrust Neville to your care while I do so?"
"Yes, Poppy and I will take care of him while Alice recovers."
"She will be awake and healed in two days at most," Poppy added. "After that, I see no reason she cannot return home."
"My thanks," Augusta said with a bowed head, before she handed off the baby in her arms and headed out of the infirmary.
Poppy took the small child and put him in a conjured bed next to his mother, while Albus moved to the last bed. In a similarly small bed a black-haired little toddler slept an uneasy sleep, watched over by a black-haired man many times his size, but just as gentle in many ways as his charge.
"How fares our little survivor?" Albus asked.
"He's not been a happy little chap, that's for sure. He can tell summat's wrong, that his parents ain't 'ere," Hagrid replied with a sniffle.
"Sirius is his godfather, and Alice his godmother. He will grow up in a household of love, wherever he goes, that is a certainty. Sadly, I have not been able to find a treatment for his unfortunate blemish," the elder man added, looking at the barely-healed wound on the child's forehead. As he watched the child turn and mumble in his sleep, a conviction stirred within him, one he knew he would take to his grave.
The lives Tom Riddle took, the lives it cost to end him, would be the last to be lost.
XXX
It was several days later that Albus finally released his hold on the emergency powers, lifting martial law and resigning his post as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Though sad to be leaving the institution in such an inauspicious manner, he would still be around, since he still held a seat. He would keep a watch on the council to ensure that the conditions that had fostered Riddle's rise to power would not reoccur in his lifetime. He also resigned as the British delegate to the ICW, feeling that his advanced age deserved a semi-retirement as he devoted his remaining years to his role as Headmaster of Hogwarts and teaching the children he had always adored.
Or at least, that is the reason he gave to the public. In truth, he knew that he needed to move swiftly to ensure that the trail did not go cold on Riddle's damned horcruxes. The sooner he acted, the sooner they could be collected and neutralized so that Sybil's prophecy could be fulfilled in the most risk-free manner possible. If it even applied, which was still uncertain.
As he sat in his chair in his office, he heard a knock on the door. Already knowing who it was thanks to the wards on the staircase, he allowed Sirius and Alice entry, along with their small charges.
"Do come in and sit down," he said to them with a small smile. They did so, and he could not help but feel like he was being interviewed by prospective parents.
"Headmaster, I have to thank you. I don't know what came over me, but I'm glad you reminded me of my duty to my godson," Sirius began.
"And mine, for saving my life," Alice added.
"I am only sorry that it was necessary," Albus replied. "Though it's not really any of my concern, I am curious as to your plans for the future."
"After saving both our lives, I don't think it's too much to ask," Sirius replied. "Since I was persona non grata with my family until recently, I'm not exactly sure if any of my family properties will even let me in the front door. Augusta has kindly extended an offer of housing myself and Harry at the Lodge until such time as more permanent arrangements can be made."
"A capital suggestion. Do pass on my gratitude onto the Lady Longbottom. Please also keep me informed of the funereal arrangements for Franklin and the Potters. They were good people, and deserve to be remembered as such."
"We will Headmaster. If we may be allowed the use of your fireplace?" Sirius asked politely.
"Of course. Please don't hesitate to contact me should the need arise. I may not have the power I once did, but I can still call in a lot of favours." With a smile and a handshake, the two adults left the aging man to his thoughts. Ones which turned to finding Riddle's horcruxes as soon as possible.
XXX
Ten Years Later
Albus didn't often go to the train station as the children clamoured around on the first of September, but he felt he needed to do so today. The world had changed practically overnight nearly ten years to the day in the past, and all it cost was three innocent lives. Many of the old purebloods had realised the writing had been put on the wall since that fateful day a full third of the Wizengamot was killed. The Council had rightly seen that Dumbledore was not in a mood to argue and they began to change their ways for the better, being more inclusive of the newer-generation magic users and reaching out to the other sentient species. True, it would be a long time before the centaurs or goblins would have decent representations for their affairs, but at least both sides were making tentative shows of trust.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of laughter, and of a particular pair of names being called in distinctly parental voices.
"Harry! Neville!" his eyes were drawn to the source of the voices, and the real reason he was here today. Though he never would have thought it at the time, or perhaps ever of Sirius Black, incorrigible prankster, being a parent had certainly been good for him. The matured marauder quickly realised that being a full-time father was much more involved than being a favoured uncle, and that he couldn't do it alone. It was with a mix of mirth and disbelief that Albus had received the invitation to the wedding of Sirius Black to the new Alice Longbottom-Black after Harry and Neville's third birthday. The two boys had become inseparable brothers very quickly, the two of them adorably fighting to have control of the ring-pillow as they came up the aisle to their parents.
The two eleven year olds stopped and reluctantly returned to their parents' side as Albus came over to them.
"Sirius, Alice, so good to see you again," Albus said magnanimously. "And you as well, young masters," he added to the boys.
"Headmaster, we didn't expect to see you here," Alice replied.
"The benefits of old age and privilege, I can do certain things and still surprise people. I do so love the feeling here on this day, all these young minds eager to learn. It makes an old man feel years younger. And how are the two of you, and where are your other children?"
"James and Frank aren't feeling well, and Lilly finally fell asleep with Andromeda watching over her, so we decided to let them stay at home today," Sirius answered.
"Ah, my condolences. Sick and restless children are ever a parent's thankless duty," Albus commiserated.
"But worth every minute when they smile," Alice added, the three adults nodding.
"Alright you little terrors, get on the train while there's still some seats free," Sirius said as he knelt down to give Harry and Neville a hug. "Now, remember what I taught you. No spells at anyone's back, because it's rude and you can't see their faces. No gloating, unless you can't be caught. Nothing that lasts more than an hour until you're older. Respect your Head of House, because they not only have eyes in the back of their heads, but in most of the walls. And lastly, don't forget to have fun!"
"Love you Dad!" the two of them shouted, before laughing as they ran to the train. Sirius wiped a tear from his eye as he stood, and there was a companionable silence around the three adults for a moment.
As Albus turned to them with a serious expression, the two parent's expressions tightened.
"And I thought I was Sirius," Black said, to a long-suffering groan from his wife.
"Would that seeing the children was my only duty here today. I came here today hoping to discuss something with the two of you. Business not for public places."
"Let's go back to the Lodge then, and we can have a more confidential discussion," Alice replied. Albus nodded graciously at the offer, and the three of them used the public Floo to go to the ancestral Longbottom home. After checking on their children and then finding comfort in a sitting room, the atmosphere became tense.
"This has something to do with Harry, doesn't it?" Sirius asked almost instantly. He had never forgotten that night, so many years ago, when his best friends were killed and their son became his. He never let Harry forget who his parents were, but he'd cried just as much as Harry had that first time they had visited the Potter graves and he still called Sirius 'dad'. He'd always suspected that there was something more about that night, about why Voldemort had attacked the Potters, and he braced himself now.
"Unfortunately, I must say that it does," Albus replied solemnly. "You see, many years ago a prophecy was made that a boy born at the end of July would vanquish the Dark Lord. It was vaguely worded, and Tom only ever heard part of it, but the events of October 1981 were the result of him trying to end the threat before it became real."
"James and Lily," Sirius said.
"… and Franklin," Alice added. "It could have been either Harry or Neville, couldn't it?" she asked.
"In terms of the prophecy, it could have been either child," Albus replied. "I suspect that due to other particulars, Harry is the one it points to. I hesitate to tell you this, but you have to know in order to understand my request." He settled more comfortably into the chair and seemed to change from the venerable headmaster to a tired, weary old man.
"When I went to the Potter house that night, I discovered Tom Riddle's body. Something felt off about it, some hint of residual magic, so I cast some old spells upon it to learn what I could. What I found there chills me to this day. Riddle, in his fear of death and insane need to conquer it, split his soul by some of the darkest rituals known to man. He is not truly dead, but neither is he alive. I suspect that had I left things there, he would eventually have found a new body, or created one. However, I have spent much of the last ten years learning all that could be taught of soul magics, and tracking down the anchors he used for his soul. I have collected them all and have discovered a way to destroy them but there are two final acts that I cannot do myself. Sadly, they must be done by Harry."
He looked up for the first time to see Sirius and Alice's pale faces.
"Why does Harry have to do something about this evil? Hasn't he suffered enough?" Alice said with a sob.
"Riddle's legacy is one of terror and fear, and we are still feeling it now. However, it can only be Harry who does these things. I can assure you I will do everything to limit his involvement, and remove the memories afterwards from all involved, even myself, so that no-one can learn of Riddle's madness," Albus said reassuringly. There was a silence as the two parents absorbed the information, before Sirius spoke.
"What would he need to do?" Black asked.
"First, he would need to participate in a ritual I discovered, to remove the final piece of Tom Riddle's soul from his body. I suspect Tom wanted to use the boy's death to make his final horcrux, but instead Harry became the anchor when Riddle's unstable soul split upon his incorporealisation. After Harry recovers, he will need to kill Tom. Before you object, I intend to make it seem like nothing more than an exercise for him, he will not be aware of what he truly does. Then, I will obliviate him, then yourselves, then myself. With your permission, of course."
There was a silence as the parents talked to each other through gesture and touch, before they turned back to the headmaster.
"We'll allow it, as long as we can be present to watch over Harry. He may not be our son by blood, but he is our son nonetheless. What kind of parents would we be to let him do this on his own?"
"I expected nothing less from you. We can do the ritual tonight after the welcoming feast, and the next part the day after. After that, hopefully we can live in the peace we deserve."
XXX
As the feast wound down and the student began filing away to their respective House dormitories, two first years lingered near the entrance to the Great Hall.
"Sucks that we're in different houses," Neville said, fingering his now yellow-trimmed robes.
"It'll be fine," Harry replied in his green-edged ones. "Besides, now we can do all kinds of stuff. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition, especially from Hufflepuff and Slytherin!" The two boys devolved into laughter, before they felt the teacher looming over them. Both of them looked up into the beard and face of the ancient Headmaster, whose eyes were twinkling with mirth.
"Let me guess, your weapons will be Surprise and Fear? Perhaps with some Ruthless Efficiency and a fanatical devotion to the Marauders?"
"Yeah, with a nice red uniform!" Harry replied enthusiastically.
"Indeed, I shall have to be extra-careful then. Now I do have some unfortunate news for you, Young Harry. Your parents are here, apparently you forgot some rather unmentionable items of clothing in your haste to pack this morning." Albus enjoyed the paling Harry's face went through at the thought of his parents being here with his underwear, before the headmaster began to chuckle.
"You're having me on, aren't you?" the young Slytherin asked.
"Quite. The look on your face was priceless. Nonetheless, your parents and I do need to discuss something important with you. I suggest you run along, young Neville. You'll see your brother fit and healthy at breakfast I'm sure." Neville looked conflicted for a moment, before his need to obey authority figures outweighed his fear of separating from Harry. For his part, Harry looked confused and a little hurt as he realised that he was being separated from his brother for the first time he could remember.
"Is everything alright Sir?" He asked timidly as the headmaster led him through the school.
"Relax dear boy, nothing is wrong. There is just some important business we need to discuss with you, and your parents are, as always, here to look out for your well-being."
He led them to the infirmary, where he hoped Harry, as well as all his student charges would see little time. He ran to the waiting hugs of Sirius and Alice as he saw them, and they congratulated him on his sorting into Slytherin.
"They say Voldemort was in Slytherin," Harry said, his enthusiasm dampening that he hadn't joined Neville in Hufflepuff.
"Franklin, Neville's biological father, was also in Slytherin," Alice replied.
"Don't listen to your Grandmother Augusta and Auntie Andromeda," Sirius added. "Being in a certain house doesn't make you good or bad Harry. It's your choices that define you. If you want to rule the world Harry, we won't love you any less. As long as you save a few tropical islands for me!" Sirius said with an easy grin.
"Sirius, be serious," Alice said with a threatening glare and a smack upside the head, daring him to comment on his favourite pun. "No corrupting the children until they're teenagers!" She turned a much gentler smile to her son. "Now, while the mutt here may be trying to start earlier than we agreed with the corruption, his heart's in the right place. We love you no matter what Harry. Though keep the tropical island idea in the back of your head, just in case you want to give us a retirement present or the like." Harry smiled back at them, feeling much more at ease now.
Albus had left them to talk as he did a final check of the ritual, including the item he'd be using to transfer the piece of Riddle's soul into. Sitting next to the ritual space was an Award for Special Services to the School, awarded to Tom Marvolo Riddle in 1942. It felt fitting that it would be the last item that would lead to his ultimate death. Albus had spent much of his time and money acquiring the knowledge of how to do what he had planned tonight, as well as the other times hidden well behind wards and other defenses. He'd even tracked down the wraith Tom Riddle had become, and bound it to his corpse until Harry could deal with it tomorrow.
As the three came over to him, Albus sat down to begin explaining to Harry.
"Now Harry, I will tell you why we will do this sometime in the future when you can understand it, but right now, I'll just tell you that there is a minor medical condition you have, and we are here to fix it. There is nothing untoward about to happen, we just need you to take a dreamless sleep potion and spend a night in the infirmary. After a test tomorrow morning to make sure you're well, you can go to breakfast and then spend the rest of the school year worry-free. Or at least as worry-free as you make it," he said, eyes twinkling. "Your parents will be here at every step to make sure nothing happens to you, just as I will be. Now, are you ready?"
"Okay," Harry said.
"Excellent," Albus replied. Now, go and change into your sleepwear and then get comfortable in this bed." Harry was handed some pyjamas that he really had left behind by Sirius, heading into the infirmary bathroom to change and coming out a moment later. He settled into the warm bed a moment later and pronounced himself ready. Albus handed him a blue potion vial, which the boy drank quickly, and was asleep almost before he finished handing the empty vial back to the old man.
"Are you sure this won't hurt him?" Alice said worriedly.
"Better a little pain now, when he's young and able to deal with it better, than later when it will be harder to remove," Albus said seriously. "I do not enjoy what has become necessary tonight."
"Just do it Albus, then we can all move on."
"Very well. Step back please."
Sirius and Alice held each other as they backed away from their son, while Albus stood and began chanting in a language they did not recognise and waving his wand in a complicated pattern. It took several minutes, and they could feel and even see the magic surrounding the old man and the young boy. Suddenly, with a cry of pain from the mercifully still-unconscious Harry, a malevolent blackness seeped from the scar on the boy's head and into the magical storm. It tried to go back, but Albus forced it to move into the award trophy instead. It resisted every attempt but finally settled, to the relief of the boy's parents who rushed to his side and the sweating and out of breath headmaster.
After confirming their son was fine, they turned to see Albus looking older and more weary than they had ever seen him. A strangely malevolent aura now seemed to hover around the trophy.
"Would you like to participate in Riddle's destruction?" Albus asked.
"More than anything. For James, Lily and Franklin," Sirius replied.
"Follow me then," Albus said, levitating the trophy and getting them to follow him to a room neither of them recognised. After disabling the security wards, he led them inside to a table with various items on it, including a snake in a terrarium.
"Are these?" Sirius asked.
"The only things keeping Tom from departing this mortal coil," Albus replied solemnly. "Now that we have the last of them, we can finally be rid of him for good. I shall do the first one." He placed the trophy down and picked up two items to the side of the others, a sword and a vial of an acid-green substance.
"The sword of Godric Gryffindor himself, and Basilisk venom obtained at great cost," Albus explained. "Hopefully, this goblin-crafted blade and deadly poison will be sufficient for the task." He carefully uncorked the vial and dripped the contents onto the blade, which seemed to melt into the steel as water into sand, leaving it with a deadly green sheen. Albus carefully raised the sword and cut cleanly through the trophy, causing a small black cloud to appear before it faded.
"Excellent," Albus said, placing the blade down and conjuring himself a chair. "I will leave the rest to you, for I am suddenly feeling quite tired." Sirius nodded and picked up the blade, using it on all the items save for one. He held out the blade for Alice to take and swing at the snake, removing its head and horcrux. They helped the old man back to his quarters and retired to guest quarters for the night to sleep away the painful memories.
XXX
Harry woke up with a headache, but otherwise he felt fine. He felt a lot better seeing his parents next to his bed waiting for him to wake up.
"You feeling okay cub?" Sirius asked.
"A bit of a headache, but I'm okay Dad."
"Here's something for that headache. I suggest you not make a habit of coming here, Mr Potter," said the voice of Madame Pomfrey as she handed him a vial. He drank it down with a grimace of disgust before handing it back.
"You make them taste bad on purpose, don't you?" Harry asked.
"I do, as a matter of fact. Discourages people spending time in here," the matron replied.
"Ah, Master Harry, you're awake," Albus said as he entered. He came to sit in a conjured chair by the family and just looked at their loving interactions for a moment. "No ill effects from last night I trust?"
"Just a headache Sir. I got a bad-tasting potion to fix it."
"Ah yes, the infamous Poison Poppy strikes again. She happens to firmly believe in the cure being worse than the disease, to prevent disease of course."
"I can't say her methods are terrible," Alice conceded, looking at Sirius contemplatively. Sirius wisely chose not to reply.
"Indeed. At any rate, there is only one thing we need to do, and that is to check that young Harry here is fit as a fiddle. I think a small test in is order." At this he removed a small doll from his pocket and set it down on the bedside table.
"Now I'm not sure if you're aware of the spell or not, so a quick lesson first," Albus said. He was reminded of why he enjoyed teaching as he taught Harry the spell, before he was satisfied. He gestured to the young boy, who looked positively gleeful at finally being allowed to do real magic. He concentrated carefully on his pronunciation and wand movements, and then performed the spell.
"Evanesco!" Harry cried. There was a small light, enveloping the small doll and then vanishing, along with the contents. "What does that spell do anyway?"
"Just a simple cleaning charm," Albus explained. "Now, unfortunately, I must leave you. I will speak to your parents for a moment, and then let you go down to breakfast. Assuming Poppy is amenable, that is."
Harry jumped up to get dressed, before Albus and his parents moved to have a quiet discussion.
"Albus, did Harry really just kill Voldemort with a cleaning spell?"
"A little-known fact: that particular spell moves the item ensorcelled into the nearest active volcano. One of the most environmentally friendly cleaning spells ever created. Incidentally, nothing ever created can withstand the intense heat of liquid magma. I'm actually reconsidering the obliviations now, for Harry at least. Such a young mind could have adverse reactions to such powerful magics. I will leave the offer for you both open though."
"I… I don't want to remember those things exist," Alice said.
"I will remember, but I want you to hide it in my mind Albus. This kind of knowledge is too dangerous to exist freely," Sirius stated. Albus nodded, and performed the necessary magic on his friends, before they collected Harry as he came out.
"Well, I will leave you to it," Albus said with a smile. He felt lighter now, a burden lifted off his soul. Maybe now that Voldemort was dead, he would be able to retire.
XXX
Another Ten Years Later
Albus Dumbledore sat lightly in his modest home, glad to be finally retired after all that had happened. He knew Minerva would serve the position well; for all that she wouldn't really enjoy it. He knew that her next choice for the Headmaster position was his as well, when the young man had a few more years of experience. As if thinking of the man brought him forth, Harry Potter sought him out, a drink in hand as he sat down next to the venerable professor.
"So, Professor Potter, how are you enjoying the party?" the old man asked.
"Still can't believe you're really retiring. You always seemed immortal, like you'd be in that office forever, twinkling your eyes at little firsties."
"Harry, all things must end. I doubt I'll see another five years, honestly." He waved his wand and a privacy ward erected around the two of them. "If you have any questions you want answers for, I suggest you ask them now."
"Well, there is one," Harry admitted. "My first day. You may have fooled an eleven year old; but even I can recognise the signs of obliviation in Sirius and Alice, so they know about it and chose to forget it. I know a ritual when I remember one, Albus. Mind telling me what it was all about?"
"Ah, I had wondered if this conversation would ever come about," Albus said, strangely freely. He strengthened his privacy spells before he continued. "The night James and Lily died, Voldemort was only mostly dead. He'd used a necromantic ritual previously to anchor part of his soul to this plane of existence. He'd planned to use your death to use another one, or so I suspect. When your mother's sacrifice instead… inconvenienced him, a part of his soul split off and tried to attach to the only magical thing capable of sustaining it." Harry, as the newest DADA professor and the once to successfully identify and remove the actual curse Voldemort had placed on the position, understood.
"It was me, wasn't it."
"Yes. That ritual you remember was me moving that soul piece to another container. One which I later destroyed, along with the others he had made."
"So what became of Voldemort?" Harry asked.
"You saw through the ritual, but the second part still eludes you?" Albus said merrily.
"Wait… the cleaning charm… that was Voldemort?"
"What was left of him. You see, long ago there was a prophecy that you would kill him, or he would kill you. The specific wording I believe was 'at the hand of the other'. What better way than to simply… wipe the slate clean, so to speak?" Albus gave a laugh, which devolved into a short coughing fit. Harry joined in, for no other reason than being impressed.
"You really were the only man he ever feared then."
"Yes. Now, I gave Sirius and Alice this same offer I'm giving you. I can obliviate the knowledge that Riddle used Horcruxes to stave off death. It would be better for that knowledge to die with us, than to risk a repeat of it."
"I think I'll take what I think Sirius took. Hide it in my mind, but give me a password or key to it, should I need it again."
"I think Harry, that you have gained wisdom at a much younger age than I. I'll do it later in private. For now, let's get back to enjoying my retirement party."
"I'll drink to that!"
A/N: I had the starting idea for this on one of the long, boring plane trips I took on my honeymoon to Disneyland. The basic premise was 'everyone said Dumbledore was the only one Riddle feared, so let's make him a character that is fearfully powerful, both magically and politically'.
This will only ever be a oneshot, so no matter how you cry, there will be no more of this. It is an idea that has come to be in its entirety, no more and no less.
Yes, I will get back to my other fics, as recently the muse has been fighting me, but I think she's decided to help rather than hinder now.
Thanks for reading everyone, and leave a review if you liked it!