Chapter 1
A Tragic Mistake
written by: Empathicallychosen
Betaed by: Taint of Taia
It is much easier for good to deal with evil than it is for good to deal with stupidity. author unknown.
Homer Seybold sat on the couch pretending to read the paper, but he was really dwelling on his misfortunes. Homer had always been a visionary man. He used to believe that apart from a few bad apples, the world was home to an inherently good people. Nowadays he was starting to wonder if he was still that same man. Homer was an inventor. He liked to invent the kinds of things that would help the world. The only problem was nothing he invented ever worked, which led him to his current situation.
Homer was a fifty-something year old man, living on his rigid, older sister's couch.
Agatha, his sister, was a batty old woman who believed in the tried and true, traditional ways. She never believed in Homer, and she had stopped thinking he would ever be able to please her a long time ago. Homer, too, had given up on ever pleasing Agatha. On nights like this, though, he felt like a fragile little boy who wanted nothing more than his sister's approval. She, of course, was in no mood to grant his wish, which only made Homer feel much more like a hopeless vagrant. He sank deeper into the couch.
BOOM!
The explosion startled Homer, just as he reached the peak of his self-pity. The explosion lit up the night sky like noonday, illuminating the house through the curtains. Homer was more then startled, and jumped in his seat, but his alarm soon turned to complete terror. Tremors shook the foundation of his house and the noise sounded very close. He slowly pulled himself up off the monstrosity of a couch and looked in the direction of the kitchen, where he knew his sister to be.
"Aggie, are you all right? What do you think that was?"
"Honestly, Homer, I don't know and I don't care to. If you are so concerned about it then you should get off your lazy hindquarters and find out for yourself! I'm busy cooking our dinner!" Agatha was quite frustrated with her brother at the moment, and was seemingly not bothered by the loud explosion, or the tremors that had briefly shook the house. Her words played through his mind, and he could almost hear her thoughts. The lazy bum can't even get off the couch to do anything for himself. "...and for the last time! My name is Agatha!"
Homer grumbled, though still worried, as he walked over to the front bay window, pulled open the curtains, and looked out. His eyes widened. There, three houses down and across the way from his own home was a house bathed in flames. Smoke curled upward from the home, at least thirty feet high.
"Aggie! Come quick! Something's happened at the Potters'!" Before he could gain a response from his uptight sister, he had grabbed his jacket off its hook on the wall and bolted out onto the street. There, in the dark of the night chaos was reigning.
Outside, where a beautiful home once stood, was now a flaming pile of rubble. Homer thought for a moment that the burning mess would make a fitting campfire for a giant if only such things existed. Luckily, those who had been in the home were all a safe distance away. Not well, but they were at least alive. Homer breathed a sigh of relief. His first instinct was to go over and help, but as he took his first step his foot landed on some sort of cotton or fabric. He looked down and saw what were probably the only things that had not been destroyed by the fire: three stuffed toys. For the life of him, Homer could not understand why these highly flammable objects had not caught fire. Of course, Homer was just glad that everyone had made it out safely.
Homer noticed James Potter, a tall and slender young man with hazel eyes, emerging from the flames. Homer wondered how a man, who was so dazed and confused, could hold onto two struggling children at once, so comfortably during all this, yet James did. His gold spectacles were smudged with smoke, bent and broken, and his incurably untidy raven-hued hair was covered in ash and soot. He had several minor bumps and bruises. His jeans were tattered, and his shirt was damaged beyond repair, but all in all, he seemed all right. Even the children in his arms appeared unharmed.
Homer was not surprised that there were two other infants present. Even though Harry Potter was an only child, it was no surprise to anyone who had met the Potters that they had two other children with them at this time. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were almost always in Harry's company. They had a strange bond that was apparent to anyone who saw the three of them together.
Indeed, all three children seemed to be in much better health than James's beloved wife. Homer only took notice of her after being mesmerized by the great extent of the damage that had been done to her by the explosion. To him, her actions were minor compared to everything surrounding him. He noticed other neighbors coming out to observe, neighbors who took no notice of the young couple.
Lily Potter was only twenty-one, Homer knew. Homer knew her to be a beautiful woman before today, and perhaps it was simply the lighting at the moment, but she seemed to have aged a couple decades. For a moment, when he managed to look her in the eyes, her green eyes looked to have lost their sparkle forever. Lily looked as though she was going to be violently ill and her body would not stop shaking. She obviously had a broken nose and a bloody arm. The way she was holding herself, and her son, Homer guessed her to have bruised ribs, and still she managed to keep hold of her infant son. He thought that to be a miracle or perhaps a better word for it was magic. Poor Lily, who had always been an extremely brilliant woman, seemed to have lost all her intelligence in the blast. She was pacing around days patting her wailing son on the back. She seemed completely dumbfounded.
All she could do was to repeat over and over, "Why didn't it work? We had it all planned perfectly! It was supposed to end everything, why didn't it work?"
The only response the mournful woman received was the increased howling of her son.
"Oh Harry, please hush. Mummy is trying to think."
Harry Potter, the fifteen month old in Lily's arms, seemed the luckiest of all his family. Though he was clearly frightened and wailing like a banshee, and even though he was exhausted and looked to be in desperate need of a diaper change, the only injury young Harry had gained was a cut on his forehead. The one year old was obviously experiencing great discomfort and his mother was positively frantic, because she could not quiet him.
Just as Homer was preparing himself to go over there and help the frazzled young woman the most mind boggling thing happened. A loud rumbling came from somewhere up above them. It was so loud that it drowned out all three of the infants haunted wailing. It grew and grew until it was so loud that Homer was certain that he had gone deaf. It was at that point that several people, including Homer looked up at the sky and saw-
Homer rubbed his eyes. He just couldn't believe it. A giant motorbike was soaring through the sky flying at breakneck speeds heading straight for the Potters. Homer was certain that the rider was going to collide right into the distraught little family. However, none of them (including Harry and his friends,) seemed frightened of this unnatural abomination. All they could do was watch numbly as it came closer.
The babies stopped crying and for a split-second Homer thought he saw one of them smile.
"PAFOO!" Ron called out as the motorbike came to a complete stop just a few feet away from the Potters and the rider climbed off frantically.
Ron and Hermione squirmed out of James's arms and onto the street, but poor Mr. Potter took no notice. Homer could have sworn the distressed infants were trying to make their way over to their friend, who was still trapped firmly in Lily's arms. No, Homer told himself that was impossible. Homer turned his attention back to James. He had taken no notice of them trying to climb over a broken off Rafter from the ceiling to reach the place where their friend was. James was too busy watching the man on the motorbike as he made his way to the family.
Suddenly, Homer recognized the man, tall and muscular with coal black hair and a handsome face. It was James's brother, Sirius. He made his way to his brother's side in the blink of an eye. Staring over his brother's shoulder at the rubble where the house had stood, Sirius's dark gray eyes seemed to pop out of his head.
"Merciful Merlin, is everyone all right?" He asked his brother desperately.
Homer couldn't understand the meaning of James's response; although he was sure he heard it all perfectly . . .
"He used the killing curse on them. He shot all three of them at once! Took out the whole house . . . "James had spoken as though he didn't understand what was going on.
Sirius was shocked.
"They survived! But -- but no one has ever . . . they're still so little-how could they-" It seemed Sirius had struck a chord with his brother, poor James finally lost it.
"THAT (Homer heard James use a word that was to foul to repeat,) TRIED TO KILL OUR BABIES! HE TRIED TO KILL MY BABIES!"
James spoke with such passion and sorrow that Homer's heart broke for him. Homer couldn't bear to watch as James fell to his knees hit the ground and started to sob. Gently Sirius stooped down to help his brother up and brought him into a hug. As James cried, the infants seemed to absorb his sadness and started to howl again.
Harry was twisting left and right like mad trying to get to his father, but his mother would not let go she seemed to be holding on to Harry as though he were a lifeline. Hermione and Ron, who had given up their quest turned back to James and began pulling on his leg and bawling at his feet.
James looked down at them sorrowfully and scooped up Ron, who was the farthest up his leg. Sirius bent back down and picked up Hermione, who seemed offended that James had not picked her up as well. Could babies be offended, Homer wondered. The moment Sirius had the young girl in his arms, Hermione relaxed resting his head against Sirius's chest as she began to suck on her bleeding hand. Homer watched as Sirius removed Hermione's hand and examined it carefully.
"Holy founders!" he shouted loudly.
Homer couldn't believe what happened next. There was a pop, and suddenly a short, portly man appeared out of nowhere. This can't be happening, Homer thought to himself. He blinked once, twice, three times, but the man was still there. He seemed sweaty and nervous, but somehow determined. The man looked at the rubble, and then at the people who had once called it their home. Homer noticed as the man began to shout loudly that he didn't seem surprised to see the house in such shambles the way Sirius had.
"HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU? I NEVER WOULD HAVE BELIEVED YOU CAPABLE OF TRYING TO KILL THOSE POOR CHILDREN!"
Homer could feel Sirius's outrage. "YOU INSIDIOUS WEASEL, HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOU'RE FACE HERE!"
Homer watched completely riveted. It was like watching a train wreck. Sirius shoved Hermione back into James's arms and plunged his hands into his pockets, pulling out a stick. Homer barely had time to wonder what Sirius had intended to do when the nervous young man spoke again.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I've contacted the Ministry, and they're on their way," he squeaked.
Just then, apparently as predicted, twenty or so men and women appeared out of nowhere, just as the short and portly man had done moments earlier. They were some of the strangest men and women Homer had ever seen in his life. They were all dressed in the same deep crimson floor length . . . dresses? Homer blinked. No, they weren't dresses they were robes. It was clearly a uniform of some kind. They had badges made of finely polished gold. They were gathered at a safe distance away from the potters and the portly man, but they were definitely, pointing long rounded sticks at the Potters.
"James Aldridge Potter and Lillian Rose Potter., You are under arrest for the crimes of conspiring with the Dark Lord and conspiracy to kill, Harry James Potter, Ronald Andre Weasley, and Hermione Anastasia Granger." Shouted one of the men cautiously as though he expected Lily and James to leap on them like a pack of wild, rabid wolves but neither Lily nor James could seem to move.
Homer couldn't understand what was happening these people must all be blind. Homer was clueless as to what had gone on at the Potters earlier that evening but Homer was sure without a doubt that Lily and James had no part in it. Homer seriously doubted from the looks on their faces that they understood what was going on any better than he did. Sirius however seemed fully able to understand the situation. At least enough to know that he wasn't going to go along peacefully.
"JAMES YOU TWIT! DON'T JUST STAND THERE! GET LILY! GET THE BABIES OUT OF HERE, NOW!" screamed Sirius.
Sirius turned his attention back to the portly man.
"I'm going to kill you for this, Peter! I'm going to kill you," hissed Sirius murderously, but it seemed even before he could get the words out there was a grand explosion that lit up the night sky a Homer knew no more about that terrible and tragic night.
The blast must have knocked Homer out cold because the next thing he remembered he had woken up in the hospital three weeks later with Agatha sobbing uncontrollably at his side.
-- -- -- -- --
Gregory and Megan Granger were standing outside of their new home dazed and confused. They hadn't even remembered anything about planning to move or the move itself. It seemed amazing to them that they had just moved into their new home and yet none of their things were in boxes. Megan would have thought that after all the work it seemed she had done she would be far too exhausted to be having company. But here she was just one day after her move in the middle of her sitting room with a man named Albus Dumbledore.
Mr. Dumbledore was a very tall man but more than tall he was old, not that she minded the elderly. But this man was not only old judging by the silver of his hair and beard that he had tucked into his belt. He was more than a little senile. Megan vividly remembered the first time she and her husband had met Dumbledore.
Gregory had insisted that the man was a lunatic, because he had shown up at their house wearing long robes, an aquamarine cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. But, Megan couldn't help letting him in there was just something about those amazing blue eyes bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles that she couldn't resist. Today they were both quite comfortable with this man and his rather strange appearance.
"I just can't believe Lily and James would do such a thing," said Gregory thunderstruck.
"I'm afraid it is, there were dozens of witnesses, whom all gave the same testimony, " said Dumbledore solemnly.
"Well, I don't believe it, I won't," said Megan, glaring at her husband.
How dare he even entertain the thought that Lily and James wanted to hurt their daughter?
"That is certainly your right, my dear madam," admitted Dumbledore, though he clearly disagreed.
Dumbledore, stood up and bowed to the Granger's, thanked them for their time, and made his way to the door, "Thank you again for agreeing to move here it is very important that Hermione remain in close contact with the boys."
Megan asked him what, he meant by that but Dumbledore refused to answer. Gregory decided to change the subject so that the poor man would not end his visit being vigorously interrogated by his wife.
"Why is it that Molly did not move here as well? Sending Ron is one thing, but does she even know this woman? Ambrella, was it?"
Dumbledore stopped in the doorway turned and said sadly, "Molly says that she has five other children to think about and she believes that it is best for Ron that he does not have to deal with the stress of so many siblings given his current state. It's sad really, having such a gifted child and not showing them the time of day."
With a last goodbye the Granger's very strange visitor was gone in the blink of an eye.
