Voldemort had fallen on the night of Samhain in the year of 1981 but had not died. The self-styled Lord was merely reduced to nothing more than a mere shadow of his former self by a child, the young Harry Potter, and it is with this child and this fateful night that our story begins.

A lonely figure stood in the ruins of the Potter's cottage in the small hamlet of Godric's Hollow, the cold November winds ripping her ivory hair out from it's loose bun and casting it out into the night like strands of starlight. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she beheld the carnage of the cottage and held the only survivor close to her breast. For swaddled in the scarlet and gold blanket knitted by it's now dead mother was the only child of Lily and James Potter, the young Harry. The babe, barely over a year old, had been utterly silent save for a few sniffles when she had plucked him from the wreckage of what had once been his nursery. He knew not what had occurred that night nor the fate of the parents who had loved him so deeply, so completely that they had willingly laid down their lives for his. But the woman holding him knew, she knew the sacrifice that had been made for him, she knew the terrible price that had been paid for his innocent life and she intended to honor that sacrifice. She knew the meddling old fool, Dumbledore, would no doubt want to place the babe somewhere where he could control him and turn him into the weapon that fool Trelawney had prophesized him to be. Prophecy, she knew, was the work of those who had but a small amount of the gift of True Sight. Her visions were painful to the extreme and terrible to behold at times but exceedingly powerful and showed all the innumerable possibilities, the more likely they were to come true the clearer the visions were. She had seen what allowing Dumbledore to take the child would bring, what the poor babe would have to endure because of the old man's unwavering belief that he knew best and that his 'greater good' was more important that one boy's happiness and safety. She was not going to permit it. Harry Potter would be raised by her in the way his mother, her friend, would have wanted him raised. Gently rocking him against her chest she gazed down at the tiny form of her friends' son with unsettling mercurial eyes and lifted a slender fingered hand to brush a lock of jet black hair from his forehead to reveal the lightning bolt shaped scar that was the only sign of what had occurred this night. She bent her head to place a kiss on his forehead when she heard the roar of a motorbike and the flare of headlights. She knew of only one person who would come here in such a way: Sirius Black. She turned in time to see the bike touch down on the pavement outside the remains of the Potter's cottage and the young driver fling himself from his seat to run and stumble toward the house, his jet black hair awry and his grey eyes wide and panicked. He pulled up short on seeing her standing there before drawing his wand with a snarl.

"Who are you and what have you done to Lily and James?" He spat, the words flying like daggers from his mouth.

"Lower your wand Siri', it's me." She called out, her voice carrying on the wind. He lowered his wand slightly before dropping it as a look of relief crossed his face and he almost sagged against the fence surrounding the Potter's front garden.

"Oh fuck Ri', thanks god it's you. Is...are they...?" He gasped out, his eyes begging for any other answer than the one he knew he would receive.

"Dead Siri'. He...he killed them both." She replied softly, he voice choking once more with the tears flowing down her cheeks. Sirius fell to his knees and let out a howl like a wounded dog that cut to her heart almost as much as seeing her friends cold, dead corpses in the blackened shell of a house behind her. He gripped the fence so tightly his knuckles went white as his other hand clawed the grass beneath him as he tried to stop the unassuageable wave of guilt and agonizing pain that broke over him at her words. Lily and James. Dead. Then, one ray of hope found him in the darkness of his grief.

"Harry, what about Harry?"

"I have him here Sirius, he's safe." She replied indicating the small bundle in her arms that chose this moment to let a small, plaintive cry. Relief poured through the young man as he heard that heartbreaking noise. Harry was alive, he was safe with Morrigan, the woman he had once loved before his own stupidity had ruined everything between them. She would take care of him, would raise him better than he, Sirius, ever could. She would make sure he knew what his parents had given up for him, would make sure he knew how wonderful and amazing they were and how much they had loved him. Which meant he was free to go after the sniveling little turncoat who had sold them out. He gave a feral, inhuman growl as he thought of the rat, Wormtail. The useless sack of shit who had sold his best friend to Voldemort, who had orphaned an innocent child. Oh how he was going to make the bastard pay for this. With a snarl he rose to his feet and turned to his bike, determined to hunt down the rat and gut him when he heard a soft voice cry out.

"Pa' foo?" The broken baby talk pulled him up short, all the rage and anger and bloodlust melting out of him at his Godson's small questioning voice.

"He will need you Siri'. I can give him a home and all the love in the world but that can never replace what you mean to him. He's already lost his parent's, please don't make him loose you too." Morrigan begged softly. She had also seen what would come for her former lover should he try to take his vengeance this night. He would be framed for the murder of his closest friends and be sentenced to Azkaban, the Wizard Prison or Hell on Earth as any who had ever been there called it. He may have broken her heart but she would not allow him to endure that even if it were the old man's plan to make him.

"I...I need to get him, Pettigrew. I need to give them justice." He ground out eventually, arguing with himself the whole time. What had once been a clear path, killing Peter for his part in his best friend's deaths, was now murky and uncertain.

"And you will Siri', I know you will. Go to the Auror's, to Moody if you can find him. Explain to them the plan, make them understand because if you don't they'll think you did this. They'll help you bring Peter to justice." She replied as evenly as she could while speaking of the traitorous scum who had condemned the Potter's to their fate. Understanding bloomed in his mind. No one but he, Morrigan and Dumbledore had known of the switch outside of Pettigrew and the Potter's. They would think he was responsible. A snarl curled on his lip once more.

'Probably that rat-bastard's plan all along. He would sit pretty, should his Master fail, and let me get carted off to Azkaban while he lived life as if nothing had happened' He thought to himself in disgust.

"You're right, as usual. I'll go and see Moody now. Can I...can I say goodbye to him...for now?"Sirius replied as he turned back to the woman who cradled his Godson in her arms as if he were made of glass. She nodded and he moved back over to her to lean over the bundle of blankets that was the young Harry James Potter and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and mumbled his farewell to his beautiful little Pup. Straightening he looked into Morrigan's shifting, mercurial eyes as her strands of her long ivory hair spun out on the November wind and tears tracked silver trails down her cheeks and he reached out a rough calloused hand to cup her face gently and use his thumb to wipe away a tear. She turned her head into his touch unconsciously and closed her eyes, tears hanging on her thick dark lashes like dewdrops from leaf and let out a small sob before he pressed his lips against her own for the briefest moment then disappeared back onto his bike and off into the night. She stood there for a moment longer, her silent sobs wracking her body, before collecting herself and forcing her emotions down. She could not afford to loose it now, not when Harry needed her.

"Let's get you home Harry." She whispered to the baby in her arms before she stepped into the darkness of the night and disappeared.