Harry Potter and the Fulfilling of Destiny

by WhiteVanillaFlames

How different life would be if Remus Lupin intercepted Dumbledore before Harry was banished to Privet Drive? If Harry grew up in the wizarding society instead, but no one knew that he'd survived the Killing Curse? If he could live as a normal boy? HIATUS

1. A Surrogate Father

Harry Potter and the Fulfilling of Destiny, Chapter 1: A Surrogate Father.

Summary: How different would things be if Remus Lupin intercepted Dumbledore before Harry was banished to Privet Drive? If Harry grew up in the wizarding society instead, but no one knew that he had survived the Killing Curse? If he had lived as—drumroll, please—a normal boy???

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I owned the HP universe, I wouldn't be suffering through high school everyday while sharing a bedroom with my eight-year-old sister. Seems like this is just the way things go, though, eh? Anyways, don't sue me, I don't own anything but characters you don't recognize and the basic plot line, and I have not nor will I ever say that I do own it. Period.

Note: This is completely separate from my other story and hopefully better written and thought-out. The chapters will take a while between updates because I have to write 'em, type 'em, and edit 'em. I do apologize for that (but they're long, which is half the reason for the time). And, if I happen to have mistakes hidden in here somewhere, tell me; I need to know, so I can correct them. I don't want to have a mistake-ridden chapter clouding the plot, and I appreciate constructive criticism. It would also be helpful to know if anyone thinks this is headed off right, and if I've a good idea brewing. And how much of Harry's childhood I should go through. That's really all I have to say right now, so… enjoy!

Blessings and cheers,

S.A.M.

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"Albus, no!" was all it took to still the old man's fast-pasted stride. He turned to the owner of the panic-laced voice behind him.

"Surely you understand, Remus, that it must be so?"

"No! It is unsafe! I've met them, Albus. You'd never believe how witch-hating and narrow-minded they are. Harry would never survive in that environment." The brown eyes took on a look of pleading. "Albus, please. You have to understand."

"He must be protected—"

"These people will not protect him, Albus, don't you see it? They are our enemies! The kind that wish to burn us in hell! Please! No!"

The old, white-haired man sighed heavily. "What do you suggest then, Remus? What could we possibly afford such a target?"

"I'll take him! We'll protect him with Fidelius! With the strongest wards—enforced by all of the Order! Anything!"

Albus's eyes darted around the sleeping road, where a tabby cat watched attentively from a fence and a very large bearded man leaned on a motorcycle but listened with rapt attention.

"Remus," Albus said gently, "is it you or he that needs this?"

Remus seemed to deflate right in front of them. "Both," was the quiet answer.

Albus looked from the crumbled man in front of him to the silently laying baby in his cradled arms. "Minerva?" he called to the tabby cat, "what is your opinion?"

The cat jumped from the wall and grew into a woman with a tight bun in her hair. "I believe," she stated, frowning, "that Remus is correct. But, you know already, Albus, how I feel about leaving the child with the Muggles."

"They are his relatives, Minerva. Surely that counts for something?"

Remus was at his side now, shaking his head vigorously. "You don't know them, Albus. You never saw the way they treated Lily and James, or even Harry. You've no idea what you'd be getting yourself—or Harry—into."

"Give Remus a chance, Albus. Yeh know he means well," said the large man in a low voice.

Albus looked around at his three colleagues—no, friends—and said, "All right, Remus, I'm giving you the chance, but I'll be checking in tomorrow afternoon to set up wards."

Remus's face lit up considerably, and it looked like he was almost jumping for joy. He only didn't hug Albus because of the sleeping baby that was carefully cradled in the old man's arms.

Albus gave the boy, Harry, one last smile before handing him over to the younger man.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Albus," said Remus, then, with a 'crack!', he disappeared.

"Was that the right choice?" Albus asked the night sky.

Minerva responded from behind him, "I think it was Albus. We'll know in time."

The old man nodded silently, gazing at the stars.

Then the large, bearded man started the motorcycle, and, with short good-byes, drove into the sky and away, taking off the ground.

Albus and Minerva were left alone. "We'll know in time, Albus," she said quietly. With a quick glance at the other, they both took out wooden sticks and disappeared with two 'crack!'s.

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Miles away, at a house on a cliff looking over the ocean, a baby was being put down into a small bed. After laying the baby in the cradle, Remus sat back in his chair.

Sitting silently, the young man finally allowed tears to fall. He wept. He wept for his best friends; he wept for the boy who would never know his parents. He wept for past mistakes, future mistakes, and even mistakes that were not his own. And finally, he wept that he couldn't prevent any of it. And the powerless feeling that came with that knowledge.

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After a few long hours, Remus fell into the inevitable hold of unconsciousness. A fitful sleep that seemed to continuously trade places with the tossing-and-turning routine.

At noontime, when he was attempting to feed Harry, a knock at the door sounded. A fist clenched his heart as he thought of the mortal peril Harry's situation held them both in. His fears were soon soothed, however, when Albus Dumbledore's voice sounded through the walls. "Remus? Open, please, it's just me."

Tentatively, Remus opened the door.

Albus strode in and smiled sadly at a chair-bound Harry James Potter. The baby made a gurgling noise and promptly spit out some mushy orange stuff. "Yick, Remus," he said.

"We should set up wards," said Albus, "just in case."

"Does anyone know what happened?"

"No. But Voldemort—"

Remus flinched.

"—had said that he would call a meeting together after he killed the Potters, so all the Death Eaters must attend, but no one was ever called."

"Snape said that?"

"Yes." The aged man sat gingerly down in a chair next to Harry, who was watching both of them attentively.

"How do you know that Snape just isn't trusted enough to go?" Remus commenced his attempts to feed the child in the high chair, but Harry just flung the food around.

"Because Severus is one of the most trusted. Completely inner-circle. There is no doubt in our minds." Albus took the spoonful of carrot mush from Remus and kindly goaded the food into Harry's mouth. The child swallowed happily and laughed, waving his tiny fists around.

Remus scowled at his elder, then turned to the boy. "Maybe this was the wrong decision," he said sadly, looking at Harry.

"No, no, child. I've been thinking. This will be good for the both of you, save one thing—he cannot be spoiled, no matter your baser instincts."

Remus frowned. "Why not? Isn't that what you do to babies?"

"Yes," Albus twinkled mournfully, "but Harry is different. We need him, and we can't have our savior be a spoiled brat."

"Have you been talking to Snape?"

A real smile graced Dumbledore's face. "No. Well…not much." He tickled Harry's stomach, making the boy laugh gleefully and yell 'stop' repeatedly. Then Albus sobered abruptly. "A hard life it will be for him, otherwise."

"Otherwise? But—"

"Peace, Remus. Shall I call the Order? No doubt they'll all have opinions on this. We should place wards before the Fidelius."

"Yes, call them. We should have an official meeting before placing the wards."

Dumbledore gazed off into space for a moment, and a fireball erupted next to him, causing the sound of phoenix song to echo through the dining room. A scarlet and gold phoenix appeared with it, landing on Albus's shoulder gracefully. "Ah, Fawkes, wonderful to see you. Call the Order, if you will."

The phoenix blinked once, and then began singing again.

"Good," Albus said.

Remus nodded and turned back to Harry, picking up the tiny spoonful of orange mush. "Alright, Harry, come on, now. You want the carrot?" The spoon went closer to Harry's mouth.

The boy pursed his lips, shaking his head vigorously. "No, no," he stated.

"Come on, you want the carrot?"

Harry continued to shake his head, the head graced with a fiery red lightning-bolt-shaped cut. Then he spooned his little finger through some carrot mush that was glooped on the table of his chair. He then held his gloop-covered index finger out companionably to Remus. "You try."

"Monkey-see, monkey-do," said Albus, a little twinkle lighting his eyes.

"Is that a Muggle phrase?" asked Remus hesitantly.

"Yes. It means that if he sees you do it, he himself may do the same thing."

"Oh." Frowning, Remus took and licked the carrot mush off Harry's finger. Then he made a face and looked around for the container. "Bloody nasty stuff."

But Harry was beaming. He took the spoonful of mush that Remus was holding into his mouth and swallowed happily. "Yick," he said, but this time with a grin.

Dumbledore laughed openly. Remus managed a smile also, but Harry was practically screaming with joy, thrashing his little hands around.

They were disturbed by the sound of loud cracks from outside. The Order members were arriving. Dumbledore moved to the entry hall and opened the door, letting in a few adults, and a few children.

Frank and Alice Longbottom came in with their son. Alice explained quickly, "We couldn't leave him at home alone, Albus. He had to come."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding and turned to the next couple. Two little identical three year olds ran through into the dining room, startling its occupants.

"We would have left Ron and Fred and George at home but Charlie is at school, and Bill and Percy are home alone, we have nothing to do with these two—" she waved her hands in the direction that the twins ran off to "—because they've scared off every baby-sitter so far, and no one would promise to watch the others if they were there—"

"It's all right, Molly, it's fine. Young Mister Weasley is not the only baby in attendance, and I'm sure we can find something to occupy Fred and George's minds. Greetings, Arthur."

There were short-syllable answers before more people entered the dining room where Remus was alone with Harry and the twins.

Molly Weasley gasped and ran over. "Remus! Is it—? Could it be—?"

"Yes, Molly, this is Harry."

Harry looked up at them and smiled slightly. "Hello," he said.

Frank and Alice Longbottom rushed over as well. "How is he? Is he faring alright?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, it's just a child."

The other occupants turned to the door, from which the low, scathing remark had come.

"Severus! He just lost his parents!" Molly said.

"And he's too young to know of it anyway."

"Be a little sympathetic, Snape," growled Remus. "You of all people should know that his life will not be too pleasant without a mother and a father. Every child deserves a mother and a father. And he's old enough to notice they're missing."

Snape snorted, but before he could make his next comment, Andromeda and Ted Tonks walked through the door behind him, the former hand-in-hand with an eleven-year-old girl. Snape looked down at her and said in a sneering voice, "Hello, Miss Tonks. Still on suspension, I trust?"

Her eyes widened and she darted behind her mother.

"Severus," Ted said in a warning voice. "We're all allies here. Why don't you act like one for a change? We've just had a deadly blow to our strength, and we need all the support we can get."

The dark-haired Potions Master for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry scowled and took his seat at the incredibly large dining table. "Deadly blow," he scoffed. "I think you're overrating the Potters."

Many turned to scowl at him.

More people trickled in, most of the women travelling to the far end where Remus was still attempting to feed Harry without having to actually eat any more of it himself. The feminine help was proving beneficial, though they kept asking why Remus was still feeding him mush, when Harry's old enough to eat cooked carrots and such.

Soon everyone had taken their seats, filling the table—save four empty chairs, which everyone looked at mournfully—and the children were banished to the study for the house-elves to take care of, except Harry, who was now sitting on Remus's lap at the head of the table.

Dumbledore sat at the other head, Fawkes still perched on his shoulder. "Today, as you all know, is the 1st of November. I promised you all last night that we would have an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting today, as soon as humanly possible. I also assume you know the events of last night." Albus took on a solemn tone. "If you are not aware, then I shall inform you now. Lily and James Potter were attacked last night at Godric's Hollow. Harry James Potter was the only survivor. Including Voldemort."

There were gasps around the table. Whether because of the name—which they feared so much—or because of the news, Albus Dumbledore couldn't tell.

"But—Albus—how could you possibly know whether You-Know-Who survived or not?"

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry turned to answer the question. "Miss Diason, surely you don't believe that there were no witnesses to such an event?"

The black-haired woman looked sheepish. "Then who was there, sir?"

"Voldemort's—" people shuddered and gasped at the name "—entire inner-circle was in attendance, surrounding the building. Some were even on the inside, guarding doors and such. At least, my first person account says so, as does our spy's Pensieve memory."

Sarah Sueli had wide eyes, sitting near Remus's end of the table. "Then what happened, sir? You say that You-Know-Who didn't survive, but does that mean he's defeated? Is the war over?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "The war will not be over until Voldemort's followers are arrested and sentenced to Azkaban." Another round of gasps at the feared name of the Dark Lord went around the table.

Dumbledore turned and summoned a house-elf, making a request of it for a few moments. He then straightened and faced the Order members again. "I have looked at my spy's memory with use of a Pensieve, as I mentioned. I do not believe that Voldemort is dead, per say. I believe that he has been merely inconvenienced. He could come back anytime, but I don't know how. And nor does he, most likely, which is why I said he didn't really survive."

"But there's always the chance that he does know—or even that he's in the process of coming back to life?" It was Alice Longbottom, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and thinking of her own baby boy—Neville.

Albus turned to her. "It is most unlikely. Perhaps it would be better if you all saw the Pensieve's accounts for yourselves."

There were frightened nods around the table. They were scared, yes, but they were brave as well, and they wanted to see.

A house elf popped into the room holding a rune-covered bowl with a silvery-liquid inside. Then the elf ran to the other side of the room and retrieved Harry Potter, disappearing again with a 'pop!'.

The Head of the Order spun his wand in the silvery liquid, then pulled the strand over to the brown wall behind him. He pressed the strand against the wall and it spun over the wood, forming a picture of that night. Everyone stared at it, watching the picture get clearer…

A tall man in long black robes with glowing red eyes blasted down the door to a well-kept house and entered, followed by a procession of more black-cloaked men in white masks. The entry hall of the manor was empty, so the cloaked men continued to walk. Behind them, more masked and cloaked men were circling the house, disabling all wards that may alert others to the danger the inhabitants were in.

A hissed order passed through the ranks, seeming to be spoken in the mind, and not audible to any other than those the speaker wanted to hear. Follow me. Some men turned into what was visible as a dining room, and some others continued to follow the red-eyed man, Voldemort, in through a living room.

Voldemort continued up a set of polished stairs and into a hallway. The hallway had several doors. The red-eyed leader sent a few of his men through each door via mind-spoken commands. But Voldemort himself headed towards the very last door, accompanied by two masked men of his inner-circle.

The sounds of battle could be heard from below, the shouting of spells and screams of pain. The Dark Lord waited for silence to open the door, sure that the people inside of it would be trembling in fear by now, and knowing, positively, that his Death Eaters had placed strong anti-apparition wards on the premises, just so he could savor this opportunity. Soon a clearly shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!" from the room below pierced the silence and caused a smile to spread on the almost inhuman face of Voldemort.

The Dark Lord reached for the handle of the door and creaked it open slowly, a cruel, evil grin on his barely-human face.

A red-haired woman sat in the corner of the room, holding a small baby to her chest and crying openly. "Harry, Harry, Harry," she wailed. Then, after a loud, wracking sob, she yelled, "James! James, James, James." She shuddered with her cries and tried to push herself farther back into the corner, against the wall so closely she could have melted into it. "Harry, Harry!"

"Ah… Mrs. Potter," came the cold, hissing voice of Voldemort. "So good to see you again…."

She whimpered and cradled the baby closer to her chest. "Harry, Harry, Harry," was whispered pathetically.

"Look what you've been reduced to," clucked the Dark Lord. "Once so brave, so defiant, and now…. Merely the threat of harming your son terrifies you! Motherhood has weakened you, idiot woman…." A raspy, terrible laugh filled the room.

"Please don't hurt Harry," she whimpered.

"Don't hurt Harry!" mocked Voldemort. "Get out of the way, silly woman, and I won't touch you."

"Please don't hurt Harry," she repeated, pleading.

"Do as I say!" roared Voldemort.

Lily Potter screaming in terror and backed farther into the wall. "I won't let you hurt Harry!"

"Then stand up and duel me for the boy."

The woman looked up in shock.

"Complete fair play. I won't even kill him in the middle of the duel. Quite an opportunity for you."

The improbability of what was happening left the woman completely baffled. She stood shakily, still wracking with heavy sobs every few moments, and set Harry Potter in his crib. She then picked up her wand and leveled it at one of the most powerful wizards of the century.

An evil grin spread across Voldemort's face once again. "Unforgivables are allowed."

Then, with a flick of his wand, Voldemort muttered "Crucio!" and Lily Potter shrieked in pain, falling to the floor. After a minute the Dark Lord lifted the curse. Harry Potter began to cry at the almost inhuman sound of his mother's screams.

"Do you give up?" he asked mockingly.

She shook her head fiercely and struggled to stand, grasping her wand valiantly.

Voldemort's laugh filled the room again, utterly bone chilling.

This seemed to stiffen Lily's resolve. Grimacing, she raised her wand to the man whose minions killed her husband. "Expelliarmus!" she shouted.

Voldemort blocked it and laughed. "A simple disarming spell is all you do? My, my, my, perhaps I have overrated you."

"Delegavi!"

He blocked it and threw "Imperious!"

She was incapable of blocking it, and, after her head sagged and her entire body seemed ready to collapse, she looked back up with her bright green eyes glazed over. She turned to her only son and raised her wand. "A—"

But then she stopped suddenly and began to tremble, fighting the curse with every ounce of strength. After a few terrible moments, she turned back to Voldemort with a new fire in her eyes.

"Stupefy! Petrificus totalus! Delegavi! Inflavi! Deieci! Infirmius!"

The Dark Lord blocked each one. "Is that all you have, my dear? I'm disappointed." He took a step forward and leveled his wand at her. "Last chance. Join my ranks and you can live."

"Don't kill Harry."

That horrible laugh again. "That I will not promise."

She began to cry again. "Please, please, don't kill Harry."

"Are you prepared to die for your son?"

Her wand was still raised at Voldemort. "Of course." She was positioned between the Dark Lord and Harry.

"Crucio."

She screamed in agony and fell back on the crib, still shielding her only son. Then Voldemort lifted the curse. Harry Potter had stopped crying and was now wearing a stricken face.

"Mumma," he whispered.

Lily Potter panted heavily, gasping for air and grimacing in pain as she helplessly tried to protect Harry.

"Still going to fight, Mrs. Potter?"

She nodded silently, defending Harry with her body.

"Just step aside."

"No."

"Fine."

Voldemort raised his wand and fired, "Avada Kedavra!" A bright stream of green light shot from his wand and engulfed Lily Potter. Her body collapsed to the floor in front of the crib.

The Dark Lord smiled his sickly smile and moved up beside the crib. The youngest Potter began to cry.

"Shh, shh," said Voldemort.

The baby stilled in mild fear and apprehensiveness as one pale finger came to touch his cheek. Voldemort then stepped back and aimed his wand, firing the Killing Curse once again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green jet of light streamed from the wand and engulfed Harry's small body. It seemed to stay there for a few moments, consuming the child's body, until it shot back up to the wand in an instant. Voldemort screamed his own agony and dropped the wand in an attempt to stop the curse. But the green light had begun to consume him, chasing him out of his own body.

His screams suddenly cut off and the room seemed to explode outwards with a 'bang!' that shook the foundations of the house. And when the two Death Eaters that had come with the Dark Lord could finally see through the dust, Voldemort was no where to be seen. The Death Eaters outside the house could feel this change and disapparated, lifting the wards they had been holding. One of the Death Eaters left in the nursery disapparated immediately also, upon seeing the wreckage. The other, however, moved to peek in over the nursery to see the child, Harry James Potter, alive and well with nothing but a bright red cut in the shape of a lightning bolt above his tiny brow and tear streaks going down his face.

Then the leftover Death Eater disapparated with a 'crack!'.

…The Order of the Phoenix sat in silence for a few moments as the memory returned to its place in the Pensieve.

"Uh…" Molly Weasley said, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled over the group. "What can possibly be said, now?"

"Not much," agreed Albus Dumbledore, sitting heavily back into his chair at the head of the table. "But I think it shows that Voldemort—" collected gasps from around the table "—is probably not dead. We don't really know what has happened to him."

"Perhaps banishment?" suggested Trave Jacklynn, a red-haired Auror for the Ministry.

"No, no," Arthur Weasley said. "From where would you say he was banished? That wouldn't make sense."

Jacklynn shrugged his shoulders.

"The only thing I can think of," started Albus, "would be that the backfired curse somehow ripped his body and magic from his soul."

"Wait…" said Satania Diason, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, "now we have You-Know-Who's soul running around, free? Couldn't he possess people and continue his work in this state, then?"

Ted Tonks shook his head. "No. If Albus is correct, then You-Know-You was also ripped from his magic, which means he's probably on a limited supply—if any. He may never recover. Or, he could suck the magic out of others, I don't know. The possibilities in this kind of situation really are endless."

"Such a dangerous time…" muttered Molly Weasley.

A few people looked at her questioningly. "The times aren't as dangerous as they were twenty-four hours ago, Molly. I'm afraid I don't understand you," said Sarah Sueli, another Auror.

"It's a dangerous time," she repeated, glancing around. "All of us with children, responsibilities, and now this…. So dangerous."

Minerva McGonagall nodded, sending a worried glance at Molly. "It will be less dangerous if we can figure out what has happened and prevent You-Know-Who from coming back from wherever it is he's gone. We should aim to do that at any cost."

Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody spoke up from where he had been silent, "We also have to find that traitor, the reason the Potters where discovered in the first place. Where is Black?" Moody's magical eye swiveled around to rest on the four empty chairs by Remus's end of the table.

"If you had just given up your friends to the Dark Lord, would you show up to the next meeting of his enemies?" asked Snape with a sneer. "You really think Black is going to show his face to any of us right now? Always knew he was evil," he spat.

"Then where is Peter?" asked little Filius Flitwick, who was sitting across from the empty chairs. "Why wouldn't Peter show up?"

"Perhaps he is on the run from his traitorous best friend. The man always was a coward."

Remus stiffened even from where he was sitting, an entire table length away from Snape's words. "Snape," he warned.

"All right, all right," said Dumbledore, raising his arms for peace. "Let's get back to the subject at hand. I do not know where Sirius—nor Peter—is, but we will alert the Ministry of what he has done. I'm sure the Law Enforcement branch will get on the case. Moody?"

Alastor nodded. "I'll set the Aurors to work immediately."

"And if Peter doesn't show up, we'll go look for him," Dumbledore added. "Now, do we have any questions on other issues?"

"Sir? What about Harry Potter?" piped up a voice from the back.

"Nymphadora!" shouted Andromeda Tonks from her seat. "You're supposed to be with the other children in the study! What are you doing out here?"

"I'm helping the Order, obviously, mum," said Nymphadora with her chin in the air. She turned back to Dumbledore. "Sir? Did Harry Potter survive the Killing Curse?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, not seeming too surprised that she was there. "That he did, Miss Tonks." The rest of the room looked at him in shock. Apparently this hadn't registered in the Order's minds.

"But—it was one of the first things we learned in school this year—the Killing Curse is unblockable, unstoppable, and it kills on impact. How did the baby survive it?"

"I can honestly say that I do not know, Miss Tonks. That's one of the mysteries we wish to investigate tonight."

"Like where You-Know-Who went."

"Call him Voldemort, child. Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"Uh—er… him. Where did he go?"

"That we also do not know. I'm going to have to ask that you go back to the study with the little ones, now, though. Order business is not something one your age should be getting herself mixed into."

A house elf appeared and shepherded a reluctant Nymphadora Tonks back up the stairs to the study.

"How is the state of the Ministry?" asked Dumbledore.

"They're in a rut. They don't know exactly what happened at Godric's Hollow, so they're using their crime laboratories to piece the clues together. So far, they've nothing," said Hevrin Boulin, the Minister's private assistant.

"Do you think it would be helpful to loan them the Pensieve?" asked Sarah.

McGonagall shook her head. "They would then know that we have someone in the Death Eater ranks, and they would know that we've been actively participating in standing up to You-Know-Who. We've managed to keep Crouch convinced that we're just individual people that know each other and have discussed these things, but if he realizes that we reformed Godric Gryffindor's old Order he'll see it as a threat and go to all measures to disband us. We can't have that as this crucial time."

"What exactly makes this time so crucial? We've had big disasters and big miracles like this before. What's the change of this one?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt, another Auror at the Ministry.

Dumbledore addressed Shacklebolt with a somber look. "The Potters were very important to the Order. Which is why the disaster aspect is so great. While on the other hand, Voldemort has disappeared, and Harry Potter has survived the Killing Curse. Quite incredible miracles, if I do say so myself. So the question, I say, is not 'What's the difference with this miracle?' but rather 'How and why did this miracle happen?' Surely you understand, then, Kingsley, the importance of answering this question. If we can answer it, we can stop the war."

The people gathered at the table looked sufficiently perturbed.

"Perhaps now is the best time to inform you that I may know why this happened."

Minerva glared at him. "Yes, knowing why would definitely be a benefit, Albus."

"A short time ago, when I was interviewing for the Divination position at Hogwarts, one of the applicators stated a prophecy in the middle of the interview. I attempted to understand this prophecy and, after interpreting it, decided that two of our Order's families were in danger. The Longbottoms," he said, waving his hand to where Alice and Frank were sitting solemnly, "and, of course, the Potters. I went to any extent to bring them into what I believed was sufficient safety. The prophecy tells of the one that will be able to defeat Voldemort, so, obviously, I found this very interesting." He paused.

"Well?" said Moody. "Tell us the prophecy."

"The seer said this: 'THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…. THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES….'"

Many mouths opened, whether to gape or to talk. Albus cut off those who wanted to say anything. "Now, before you try to comprehend this, let me talk. I know that I told you of this before, without giving you the actual prophecy, but I believe that it comes into play now, and you need to know. It means that either Neville Longbottom—" he gestured to the Longbottoms "—or Harry Potter will have the power to vanquish Voldemort. Both of their parents have defied him three times—publicly, I believe this means, an embarrassment to Voldemort—and both boys have birthdays at the end of July, none but a day apart. I don't really know what 'marking him as his equal' is referring to, nor do I understand the 'power the Dark Lord knows not'. I believe these answers will come in time. I do not know if last nights events involving the Killing Curse have anything to do with the prophecy. In fact, Neville Longbottom may very well be the one the prophecy refers to. Once again, I do not know. Other than what I believe, the prophecy is an enigma."

When Albus finally stopped talking, silence engulfed the Order of the Phoenix once again.

"You must be mistaken," said Minerva eventually, usually the last person that would ever say that to Albus Dumbledore. "The fate of the wizarding world cannot rest on the shoulders of that tiny boy."

"No, the entire world, Minerva, even the Muggles," growled Moody. "The fate of the entire world lies with Harry Potter."

"Or Neville Longbottom," added Satania Diason gloomily.

Albus nodded his head. "Though I do not understand Divination too well, I know the history of prophecies. It is extremely rare that one can rewrite their own destiny."

"It says that he has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord," Severus Snape pointed out with a scowl. "It does not state that he is the only one with it."

"We must keep such hope, Severus," said Albus sadly.

"Albus, you are the strongest wizard since the Hogwarts founders! Surely you have as much—more!—power than either of the babies," Alice Longbottom said. "We couldn't possibly hand over such a burden to children so young."

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, we couldn't. Which is why we wait until they are older to tell them of the prophecy. As for me being the strongest wizard…" He opened his arms and shook his head. "… I have never survived the Killing Curse."

The Order members frowned.

"If it was ever thrown at you, you probably could," said Sara Sueli.

"I would never take the chance, because I highly doubt it. Such a thing is impossible," Albus responded. "I don't know—though I have suspicions—how he has done it, but indeed he has. We all witnessed it ourselves."

An Auror near the middle of the table shook his bald head. "It's impossible to survive that curse. Absolutely impossible."

"Not anymore," Mad-Eye Moody grumbled. "A belief that the Ministry has had for years has just been disproved by a baby of a mere 14 months. It's not impossible, apparently. It's absolutely incredible."

"He's the boy who lived through the Killing Curse. The only Boy-Who-Lived." Arthur Weasley shook his head in remorse.

"There is nothing we can do now. We must figure out our next move," said Satania.

"First," Albus said authoritatively, "we should keep the Longbottoms under Fidelius, but strengthen the wards, just in case. If Voldemort does survive, somehow, we must be prepared. His first move, since we now know for sure that he knows of the prophecy, will be to eliminate what he believes to be the only other threat." Albus then sunk into thought. "Hmm… does the Ministry know if Harry survived, Hevrin?"

Boulin shook his head. "They know that three Killing Curses were fired, then an explosion, then about forty disapparitions, using magical signatures and hard evidence left in the area. I believe Minister Crouch is under the impression that Harry Potter was killed and his body was taken by You-Know-Who, for reasons unknown."

Moody nodded. "An alert went up to the Missing Persons Department, but, because he is presumed dead, it's not top-priority."

"Perhaps we should keep up the illusion that he is dead, Albus?" Minerva asked.

Albus shook his head. "I doubt that would be beneficial. Quite an eruption would happen when he comes back to life in ten years."

"Change his name," suggested Andromeda Tonks. "Make him one of the Order's babies. You-Know-Who and his followers would never suspect him—although, if You-Know-Who is indeed alive, he may know that Harry is as well. But if we're lucky, he would never believe that someone could survive that curse."

Albus contemplated this. "It does have its benefits. But I don't know if it's the right thing to do."

"It would eliminate people's—already non-existent—belief that one can survive the Killing Curse," piped up Professor Filius Flitwick. "More like, I don't know; we're preventing an uproar."

"And he would be able to live a normal life," said Remus.

"You don't think he'd want fame, Lupin? He is Potter's son, after all," Snape said with a sneer.

"Do not insult the dead, Severus," reprimanded Albus seriously.

Snape just frowned.

"As for the fame, I believe Remus is right. Harry will never lead a normal life if he is known as, to use Arthur's phrase, the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. As for giving him a new life…I do not know. While I believe that he deserves to know about his parents and his survival, I also believe that this new life that he would be given would be excellent for his own protection."

"Perhaps we should take a vote then, Albus," suggested Sueli.

"There's an idea," Ted Tonks said. "That way we get the entire Order in on the decision."

Many of the others agreed.

"This is a very serious matter," announced Albus. "This boy's life is in our hands." A house elf appeared and handed Harry Potter to Remus before popping out of the room. "Who believes young Harry should begin his life anew?"

Some of the Order raised their hands.

Albus counted how many hands were in the air then gestured for the owners to lower their arms. "Who believes that Harry should live his life as the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived'?"

A few different hands were raised. Albus counted them before they were lowered. He looked around the room. "And how many are undecided?"

The rest of the hands went up into the air, not many. They were quickly counted before being lowered.

"Ah. It appears that we have come to a decision." He paused.

"Well?" Minerva asked when he paused. "What is to happen to the boy, Albus? Tell us."

"Harry will be living a different life."

"Who will take him?" asked Satania.

Albus developed a little twinkle in his eye. "Who wants to?"

Remus looked up at him in shock, Harry Potter's little hand still wrapped around his index finger.

"We'd take him," said Andromeda Tonks. "Nymphadora could use a little sibling."

"We'd take him," Molly Weasley said, a little mournfully, "but we've barely enough galleons to support ourselves as it is."

"Albus," Remus said warningly, "you're not taking him from me. He's my best friend's son, and I love him."

The rest of the Order looked at him, somewhat shocked. "But—but Remus," McGonagall started, "you've no experience with young children, and—and during the full moon—"

"I'll hire an appropriate baby-sitter, like Andromeda, Albus, or Molly. I'll take care of him, I promise. James said that if anything happened to him, the next available Marauder should take care of Harry. As the others are—" he looked over at the empty chairs "—clearly unavailable, Harry is my responsibility. I promise to protect him with my life, if that is what it takes."

Albus suspected that Remus was desperately grasping for anything connected to his lost friend, but knew that the man would take his pledge seriously. "How do we go about this? Remus cannot bear a child without a mother, and Harry is not newborn."

"Blame it on an old dead girlfriend," growled Moody.

Arthur Weasley nodded his head, looking intently at Harry. "And the boy's small enough to be called younger still."

Minerva looked around, from Albus to Harry and back again with thin lips. "We're really going to do this?" She sighed. "Oh, alright. Here's how it happened then: Remus impregnated a woman, but she died giving birth. Because it was a Muggle hospital and no known father was present, the child was nursed to full health and set to an orphanage until they could locate the real father. A few months later, here we are." She looked at Remus skeptically. "As for the resemblance—or lack thereof—we'll just say he looks like his mother."

Albus nodded, a twinkle lighting his eyes. "Splendid idea, Minerva. But what shall we call him?"

"Harry James Lupin," said Remus.

"A little suspicious, don't you think?" asked Ted Tonks.

Remus shook his head. "If we wait about a week to allow the world to acknowledge the recent tragedy, we can say I named him in honor. Lily and James' deaths will fall into the past, like everyone else's before them." He looked down at Harry, a sadness evident in his eyes.

Harry lay silently, sleeping.

"Are there any kinks?" asked Professor Satania Diason. "Any way for someone to discover what we've just created?"

Albus looked around the room, at all these faces, his Order. "How about a security enforcer?" he asked. "Would that settle your nerves?"

People looked around, nodding.

"We should get Nymphadora to sign as well," said Andromeda. "She knows his identity, after all."

"Yes," Albus said. "And the house elves are already sworn to secrecy about anything relating to the Order?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, Albus, of course."

Albus summoned a house elf and spoke quietly for a moment. Then the house elf disappeared with a 'pop!'. Then Nymphadora Tonks was herded into the dining room. Dumbledore conjured a chair next to him for the girl to sit. Furrowing her eyebrows with a frown, she sat in the chair. Then Albus conjured a parchment. Waving his wand, he muttered a few spells, causing a wave of blue sparkles to flow over the paper. He then conjured a quill and ink, handing all three objects over to Nymphadora Tonks.

She looked at them nervously. "Er… what's this, sir? Why do I have to sign it?"

"Atta girl," said Moody. "Constant vigilance, that's the key. You'd make a good Auror."

She smiled brilliantly before turning back to her Headmaster. "Well?"

"Signing this is a promise that you will not reveal Harry's—" he waved his hand in the direction of the baby in question "—identity."

"What's happening to Harry?"

"Maybe we'll tell you in time, my dear. But right now you just have to sign the paper, promising you won't reveal that Harry Lupin is anything other than what he seems."

Tonks picked up the quill and wrote her name on the parchment. The blue sparks that were still washing over the paper flowed up and over her through the quill. She sparkled for a moment before turning back to normal. She shivered slightly at the sudden change of body temperature caused by the magic.

"There," Dumbledore said, taking the paper and passing it to the next person at the table, Minerva, "that wasn't hard."

"Nope," she agreed, rocking in her chair. "But what's with the sparkles?"

Dumbledore's eye twinkles mildly. "Magic, of course."

She made an exasperated sound. "Well I knew that much."

"Nymphadora! Don't be so insubordinate!" Andromeda Tonks was frowning at her daughter while accepting the parchment from her husband.

Nymphadora scowled. "Mum, I hate that name."

Andromeda frowned but said nothing, signing the paper and passing it along. The parchment traveled around the table, and everyone signed. There was a bit of a holdup when Harry stole the quill and tried to write on the parchment as well. Eventually Remus got the quill away from him and continued the paper on the trail around the table.

Once it reached Albus, he smiled and tapped it with his wand, making the parchment ravel up and disappear with a 'poof!'.

"You're not signing it?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Someone needs to be able to tell the secret if necessary. None of you who signed the parchment will be able to."

"What kind of charm did you cast on us, Albus?" Moody growled. "I wouldn't have signed it if I didn't trust you, old man, but I'm curious to know."

"If you attempt to tell anyone other than the names on that list, various consequences will occur."

"Various consequences?" asked Nymphadora Tonks.

"For instance," Albus said, "your mouth may disappear; your jaw freeze up; your hand—if you're writing the secret—may become petrified, and things such as those. To avoid these circumstances, don't try to tell anyone. Very simple."

A few others nodded.

"If you believe that someone should know, inform me and I'll make the final decision. As I said, I am the only one who has the ability to reveal this information." Albus smiled to his fellow Order members. Then he turned to Nymphadora Tonks. "Now, Miss Tonks, I believe you are returning to school this Monday?"

She nodded, looking sheepish.

"And you will never try to shave Mrs. Norris again?"

She shook her head. "But it was in the Halloween spirit, sir…."

"Nevertheless, Mister Filch is still adjusting to the school, and doing something so—ah—cruel to his pet Kneazle does not make him very happy. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Good. Stay out of trouble, Miss Tonks. I don't want to have to take such drastic measures again. Understood?"

She nodded again and ran back up to the study, where the twins were banging things around.

As soon as she was out of sight Albus's previously stern expression softened into a smile. "It was a bad thing to do, I'll admit, but we'll be laughing about it in the staffroom for years to come."

Minerva snorted. "Filch didn't seem to think so."

"Mm, true. Ah, well. Back to current affairs." Albus glanced over to Harry James Lupin. "Have we covered everything we need to for today?"

There were nods around the table.

"Then we should activate the wards. Shall we?" He stood.

The Order proceeded outside.

They formed a semi-circle around the front of the house and raised their wands.

"Ready?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," the Order chorused.

"One…. Two…. Three…."

"TEGO!"

Bright silver light encased the house and shimmered for a moment before the silver casing faded away.

"That should be effective enough if somehow the Fidelius is breached. With all of our power holding it up Voldemort himself would have trouble breaking through."

"We'lll have to move out of Grimmauld Place, Albus," said Moody. "What with it being the traitor's house." He spit on the ground. "I knew all Blacks were scum."

"Hey!" said Andromeda Tonks.

"You're the exception, then, Andromeda," Moody corrected. "But you're one in a million."

She huffed and walked back into the house.

"Smooth, Moody," Ted said, shaking his head. "But I'll admit, there were a lot of bad ones in that family."

"Let's get back in the house," Albus said. "I'll activate the Fidelius charm and we can get back to our lives." He sighed.

Everyone joined Harry and Andromeda in the dining room. They resumed their seats and looked expectantly at Albus.

"Remus must cast the spell," he said.

Lupin stood and handed Harry to Andromeda. He then took out his wand and walked up to the Headmaster. Albus stood and faced his friend, allowing the wand to be pointed at his chest.

"Celo clam fidelius 47 Shoreside Way," Remus said clearly.

Maroon light will silver sparkly spots flew from Remus's wand to Albus's chest and seemed to disappear inside of him. Albus then sat down in his chair, and Remus walked back to his own seat, picking Harry up on the way.

Dumbledore conjured a piece of parchment, quill, and ink and wrote down a short phrase on the paper. Setting the quill in the inkwell, he banished them.

"Remus," he said, sitting back in his chair, "as Grimmauld Place is no longer safe, may we use this house? We already know it is secure. And, of course, it is spacious enough for our needs."

"Of course. The Order is always welcome here."

Albus nodded with a smile. "Then, as Secret-Keeper for the Order of the Phoenix and Remus and Harry Lupin, I'm telling you all that you can find the Headquarters at 47 Shoreside Way, Dunwich, Suffolk County, East Anglia, England."

Everyone in the room felt a little tingle of magic.

Albus then made duplicates of the parchment in front of him. "Here," he said, handing a copy to the Tonks', the Longbottoms, and the Weasleys. "For the children, when they need to see the building."

They nodded and thanked him, setting the papers away in pockets of their various wizarding robes.

"This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is hereby over."

Many of the members sat back in their chairs. It seemed that a professional air had lifted.

"So, Albus," said Moody. "Am I to tell the Ministry that Harry Potter is dead?"

Albus shook his head. "Let them discover it for themselves. I'm sure all the evidence points to that anyway."

"That makes sense," Moody said, said, standing from his chair. "But they'll never find a body."

"Which makes perfect sense to us," said Sarah Sueli, "but will be incredibly strange to the Ministry."

"They'll blame it on Voldemort," said Albus (everyone cringed), "but he has never bothered to take the body before, so eventually their hypothesis will fall through."

"Adding to the equation, of course," said Challen Nite, a usually quiet, reserved man who worked in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, "the Death Eaters that were present know what really happened, and they have probably told the others."

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "but one of those men is one of ours. Besides, a Death Eater cannot reveal what truly happened without admitting that he himself was there, revealing his identity as a Death Eater at the same time."

"True," said Arthur Weasley. "Have we any ideas on who that other Death Eater may be?"

Albus shook his head. "Our spy suspects that it was Lucius Malfoy, but there was no definite identification."

"Isn't Narcissa Malfoy bearing a son?" asked Kingsley.

"No, she gave birth in May of last year," said Andromeda Tonks.

"Spawn of evil," growled Moody. He glanced at a clock—a real one, with his real eye—that was mounted on the wall. "Well, that's really all the time I have. We ought to get back to the Ministry, lads."

Sarah Sueli, Hevrin Boulin, Arthur Weasley, Challen Nite, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a few scattered others got up and followed Mad-Eye Moody out the front door. All Ministry employees.

Then all of the Hogwarts professors (except Albus and Minerva) left also. Soon a few more departed, leaving only Albus, Minerva, Andromeda and Ted, Frank and Alice, Molly, Remus, Harry (and Fawkes the phoenix, of course, who was silently perched on the back of Dumbledore's wingback chair).

Albus sighed and looked over at Harry. "Well. It's sure been an interesting 24 hours," he said, somewhat sadly.

"Lily and James were good people and helpful members of the Order," stated Minerva thinly. "They died with honor."

"This is all my fault," said Remus sadly, looking at the boy that the world would know as his son.

"How, Remus?" Albus asked. "There is nothing you could have prevented. You are human. You couldn't have seen this coming. Unfortunately, in war, there are casualties. We have lost two very dear people to us, but the blame cannot be laid on ourselves. The war—the enemy—is to blame."

Remus said nothing. He just pulled the child in his arms closer to his body.

"The mystery here, Albus," said Minerva McGonagall, changing the subject, "is how in the name of Gryffindor that boy survived the killing curse."

"Ah, yes," Albus responded, "that is a mystery, indeed. I have a few hypotheses, but we may never know for certain."

"What are your theories?" Alice Longbottom asked curiously.

"Well," the Headmaster started, leading the few others into the lounge room, getting comfortable in a cushy black chair in front of a warm fire. "I suspect that it has something to do with his mother's sacrifice. I'd have to do more research, but sacrifice such as that leaves a protection, an ancient magic that is unknown to most common-day wizards."

"I'd offer you my library, but I doubt it has anything of value to that particular search," said Remus.

"Our family library may be of use to you, Albus," said Andromeda Tonks, ordering a drink from a house-elf. "You know you're welcome to it."

"Mm, ours as well," said Alice Longbottom.

"Thank you, I may have to take you up on that. The Hogwarts library doesn't have many tombs on ancient magic." He ordered a lemonade from the house elf. "I should request that Madam Pince get copies."

Minerva snorted and ordered tea. "Any more books and we'll have to expand the library."

"Knowledge is not something to fear, Minerva," Albus said, sipping lemonade.

"Says the headmaster of one of the most prestigious schools in Europe," Ted Tonks drawled.

"Mm, yes," the headmaster in question hummed.

They lapsed into silence. Fawkes took his perch on Dumbledore's shoulder again.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Harry woke up and began to cry.

"Uh…" said Remus with a frown.

A house elf appeared with a small bowl of chopped apples. Remus took it and attempted to calm Harry enough to help him eat the apple pieces.

Harry continued to cry. "Hurts, Remus!"

Molly Weasley took Harry and the bowl from Remus and attempted to calm the boy herself. She whispered soothing words and rubbed his small back, but it didn't work.

Harry was still crying.

"Albus! No child of mine has ever been so stubborn with his yelling!"

Just then Fawkes began to sing. As the sound of phoenix song filled the room, Harry began to stop crying.

"Well," Remus said eventually. "That's a handy little trick, Fawkes."

After a few minutes of watching Harry fall asleep again, Molly stood up. "I ought to get home before Fred and George destroy your study," she said, stretching her legs subtly. "I've never had a tour of this house before, so… where are the children, Remus?"

"The study, of course," he mumbled, still watching the tiny, green-eyed baby sleep in his arms.

"Well I knew that, obviously," she said, exasperated. "I mean—"

She was interrupted by Fred and George Weasley's yells as they were herded into the room by a house elf carrying their younger brother, Ron.

Molly took the baby and shot the three year olds reproachful looks. They stopped running around and looked down at their shuffling feet.

"Imagine, Molly," said Albus, "in a few years no one will even know of what we've done here today. No one but the Order. In fact, Voldemort may not even be an issue in a few years. Who's to say? …Or, perhaps everyone will know what we've done, and we'll be disbanded."

"No one but Godric Gryffindor himself could disband the Order," Ted said, frowning, sipping a cocktail.

"True," said Andromeda, "ultimately. Legally, however, the Ministry can forbid the Order of the Phoenix from acting."

"Even Minister Crouch isn't foolish enough to do something such as that should he discover we are acting right under his nose," Albus stated.

"Mmm. I really should be going. Good-bye, everyone. Come, Fred, George." She pat Harry's head and traveled out of the door. At the last moment she turned and looked back at Remus. "Good luck, by the way. And remember, if you ever need a hand…" she gestured to Ron in her arms, "this is number six."

He smiled and nodded a thank-you as she left.

Frank Longbottom sighed. "How do we know which child is the one from the prophecy, Albus?"

"We do not. But I have my suspicions."

Remus snapped out of a daydream instantaneously. "Who is it?"

"I believe that the prophecy refers to Harry."

The Longbottoms looked considerably relieved. Remus became even more tense.

"How is that?" asked Minerva. "Because he was able to survive the curse?"

Albus nodded slightly. "That's one reason."

"What others?" asked Ted.

"One can feel the power radiating off his in waves," stated the Headmaster.

"You can?"

He shook his head. "Not I. Fawkes."

"How can you tell that, Albus?" asked Minerva. She was sitting in a wooden, straight-backed chair with her legs crossed. "Fawkes does not speak."

"It's just one of those strange quirks. When Fawkes wants you to know something, you just do."

Remus gaped at him. "So… you're saying that… that Fawkes can—er—feel that Harry is powerful?"

Albus nodded, "Yes."

"How?" asked a small voice in the doorway. They hadn't even noticed her in the strangeness of the conversation.

"Nymphadora, have you taken to eavesdropping?" Andromeda said suspiciously.

The small, black-haired girl ambled into the room with her hands in her pants pockets, shaking her head with an innocent expression. "No, ma'am, of course not!" She plopped down on the rug before the fireplace. "But really, how?"

"Auras, I believe. I do not really know for certain. Apparently, if my assumption is correct, Harry's aura insinuates power."

Remus sat back in his chair. "What about Neville?"

"I don't know, to be honest."

"Is his birth at the end of July merely coincidence?" asked Alice. "He was almost a month early. Mere coincidence?"

"That is, in fact, a very legitimate question, but I don't know the answer."

"For being almost omniscient, Albus, you seem to be lacking in many answers today," Minerva observed.

Albus sank back into his cushy armchair with his lemonade and sighed deeply, the rare look of his age encompassing him. "The—ahem—attack on Godric's Hollow came as a surprise to me. I can honestly say I hadn't anticipated such a breach in the Potters' safety. I haven't had quite ample time to fully consider the questions this brings up. I do apologize for not knowing."

"It's quite alright," Remus said, standing. "Give me a minute." He left the room to climb upstairs and deposit Harry in the nursery. Then he turned and went back to the lounge room where the others were talking.

"So," said Frank. "Where were we?"

"Heady stuff," said Nymphadora knowingly from the floor, "we ought to change the subject."

Her mother looked at the clock on the wall. "Actually, we ought to be going, Dora. Mister Lovegood wants to see us for dinner this evening, before you go back to school. And I want to see how he's fairing after Sylvia's death… So many deaths lately."

"Indeed." Albus sipped his lemonade impassively.

She cleared her throat. "Dora, Ted, let's go."

They stood and wrapped heavy winter cloaks around themselves. Then they said their good-byes and departed through the front door.

The five people left sat in silence for a few moments.

Finally Albus heaved a sigh. "There is a portion of the prophecy that I saw fit not to reveal to the Order," he said.

Everyone snapped out of various daydreams to look over at him.

"I think everyone here has the right or authority to know, don't you all?"

"That you saw fit not to reveal to the Order… What is it?" asked Remus.

Minerva frowned. "Why wouldn't you reveal the entire thing, Albus?"

Frank and Alice Longbottom remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

"Listen and I'll explain. The last two parts say: 'AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES.'"

There was silence as they turned this over in their minds.

"But, Albus," whispered Alice eventually, "doesn't that mean that You-Know-Who will kill him?"

He shook his head. "That is one of the possibilities, but not the only one. There is also the possibility that Harry—or Neville—will kill Voldemort to fulfill the prophecy."

"Yes," said Minerva, "but what are the chances?"

The old man shrugged. "A good as any, I would suppose."

"Albus! This is a mere boy against one of the most powerful wizards of the century!" Remus looked chagrined. "We can't do that to a child!"

The other agreed. "That is my belief as well. Unfortunately, I cannot argue with a prophecy. We've tried such solutions before. Harry or Neville will have to fulfill the prophecy. There is nothing you or I can do."

"How can you be so calm about this, Albus? This is absurd!" Frank Longbottom announced.

"I have had months of deliberation on this matter," the headmaster responded. "Though when I first interpreted the prophecy my reaction was similar to yours."

"Surely there is something we can do," Alice pleaded.

Remus frowned. "What exactly does that mean… 'either must die at the hand of the other'… does that mean that Harry or Neville is the only one that can kill You-Know-Who, and You-Know-Who is the only one that can kill Harry or Neville?"

"I don't really know. As I said, Divination is a vague subject. One I never really have understood." Dumbledore sighed once more.

"We have to train them," said Minerva. "We have to make them strong enough to do this, Albus. If they're the only ones, we're doomed if they fail."

He frowned. "That's why I didn't want to tell the whole Order. I don't want you all to lose hope, not when we all should be strong. We still have to fight back, no matter what is prophesied to come to pass."

"They still ought to get some sort of training, Albus," said Alice. "It's not fair for children with such a burden to be left completely unprotected."

"They are not completely unprotected. There are wards and charms protecting them, as well as some of our best Order members on guard. We can't train children anyway. Children aren't even appointed wands until they are eleven years of age and prepared to go to school. I believe that what will happen will happen if it is destined. We can't change it."

"But, Albus! We can help—at least a little bit! If we were to have Neville and Harry even just a little bit trained, they're better off than defenseless! We may not be able to change destiny, but we do have the ability to help the true outcome!"

Albus turned to Remus. "If Harry or Neville's destiny says that he will fight, then he will, regardless of whether we train him or not."

"Remus has a point," said Minerva, with thin lips, "though their destinies say that they must fight, the outcomes will probably be more beneficial to their—our—cause if they are trained and able to fight. Even you—in all of your opinionated glory—should be able to see that."

The headmaster sat back in contemplation. "I see the benefits, but I don't think that they should be trained. Not before they are older. These children can barely walk and talk. And how will they get wands before their magic has grown enough for their wands to choose them? Mister Ollivander doesn't sell wands to wizards under eleven because of the high chances of backfire when their magic matures."

"I'm sure Ollivander would be willing to make a few sacrifices for you, Albus," Minerva said slowly. "It isn't as if he would have much business if your first years didn't go in each year."

They thought about this for a few moments.

Finally Albus sighed again. "Fine, then they shall be trained. But only when they are a bit older, say, six, perhaps, if magic has manifested itself enough to be used by then. I believe this is a mistake, but it seems that the majority is against me. And, if I know Remus, he'd go along with the training anyway if I didn't allow it."

Remus looked mildly sheepish. "He deserves a chance, Albus. I would've tried to give it to him whether you authorized it or not. But it'll be much more fruitful if you help."

"Very well." Dumbledore checked the time and finished the last few drops of his lemonade. "I ought to get back to Hogwarts. You, too, Minerva."

The Deputy Headmistress set down her empty teacup and rose. "Alright. We've work to do at the school. Good bye, Remus, Alice, Frank."

The Longbottoms stood. "Yes, we should leave as well. Thank you, Remus, and good luck with Harry." A house elf came down with Neville in its arms and handed him to Alice. "Remember to drop by whenever, Albus, if you need to use our library. It's always open to you," said Frank.

Albus nodded his thanks and said farewell to Remus before leading Minerva and the Longbottoms out of the door.

Remus blew out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and placed his head in his hands. After a few minutes of reflection, he headed upstairs to tend to his son.

And then it hit him. Like wind against a straw-made house, the realization came.

He had a son. A son!