Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters, and the Harry Potter world. I own my computer, my brain, and my cat.
Chapter 1 – How it starts
November 1st, 1981
"They're the worst kind of Muggles Albus, must we?" McGonagall said to the Headmaster.
Dumbledore had come to the same conclusion, and was wary that being raised in this environment might embitter the child to the wizarding world, or to the Headmaster himself. It was a risk he had to take to keep the young boy safe. The blood that ran through the opinionated bitch inside was the best protection Albus could offer the boy. And with the assurance that Voldemort was not dead, protection for this boy was the only hope that they had. That's what he would have thought had there not been a small flash from inside the Headmaster's collar when the giant-of-a-man Hagrid passed the bundle over. The other two present didn't seem to notice it, but that was hardly of importance.
Dumbledore smiled and disapparated immediately, forgetting the young charge in his possession for just a moment. When he reappeared inside his office, he was immediately surprised.
"Quite the lungs on that one, Albus" quipped the ever helpful Phineas Black. He was but one of many previous headmasters who always had a comment or two to spare for the actions of their living counterpart.
Dumbledore ignored him and rushed over to an object to the left of his desk. One of quite an assortment, this particular devise - one that he tended to ignore simply because it rarely did anything - began glowing and spinning rapidly as he stepped close. Dumbledore unfocused his eyes to stare at the object for a minute before his suspicions were confirmed and a smile broke out on the old wizard's face as he conjured a crib to put the child in. With a mysterious smile, the Headmaster began preparations for his newest revelation.
Privet Drive, a few seconds after Dumbledore left.
"Where'd 'e go?" Rubeus Hagrid wondered, not really expecting a reply from the still shocked Professor.
She was one of the few besides Dumbledore that he held in very high regards that also reciprocated some respect. The man scratched his beard and gave a loud harrumph to get her attention. This caused her to jump and turn to address the groundskeeper.
"I do not know, Rubeus, but I intend to find out" Minerva stated before also disapparating to go find the Headmaster. Hagrid stood there still scratching his beard, before turning and walking back to his bike. He didn't notice the small bike on the ground that crumpled under his foot and threw him off balance enough to slam into the Dursley's car. Quickening his steps as the car alarm went off, he was already in the air when an almost-as-large moustached man stormed out of his house with a cricket bat – which was dropped once he saw the massive dent and both broken passenger side windows. Hagrid was far enough away at that point that he could barely hear the anguished cry over his motorcycle.
Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster's Office
"You can't be serious Albus; the boy needs the protection provided by a blood relative. You said that the only blood relative he has is that accursed Muggle family. I don't mean to defend them, but what other choice do we have?" Minerva heatedly argued, after the declaration that the Boy Who Lived would stay with him.
She had stormed into the office in a huff, still breathing heavily from having to walk all the way from the gates. It wasn't like her to get mad over things, but she felt protective of the boy who had just saved the wizarding world from years of torment at the hands of Voldemort. McGonagall was only made angrier by the grin which had adorned the Headmaster's face since she got here. How could he be so negligent of the boy's safety when there were still Death Eaters at large!
"Minerva, please sit down. Would you like a sherbet lemon?" the old man said, in attempt to placate the Headmistress. She was still extremely high strung after finding out less than an hour ago that the most feared Dark Lord that the world had ever known had been defeated by a baby. The offer of the Muggle candy always got a grin out of her, though. Taking the offered armchair, she politely adjusted her robes and prepared for another set of news.
"It seems that the blood of Merlin, whom all wizards descend from as you know, runs as strong through young Harry as it does through me. I believe that I can bridge the rest of the blood connection needed for the wards with a simple ritual. It will be a trying ritual, but in the end I will be as much a viable relative as Mrs Dursley is." Albus explained before picking out a sherbet lemon to enjoy. Muggle candy was a vice that had followed him for many a year.
"You intend to do a blood ritual on the child!? Albus, surely you must realize the –"
"Not on the child, Minerva. On me. The only thing the child will have to provide is a small lock of hair. The blood will have to come from Mrs Dursley, which I had already collected in the time it took you to rush to my office" pulling a vial from his robe, Albus stood and walked over to a basin near the front of his office.
"The ritual requires that I have the blood of a living relative, and some piece of the one I wish to become a direct relative to. It's an old way of further combining Pureblood Families. Alas, they preferred some of the less savoury but more complete ways of inducting others into their families. Ones that combined the blood to both participants rather than this one sided version. This will make me as much an Evans as I could be, without making Harry a Dumbledore. It wouldn't normally be enough for the blood protection the boy needs, but the Merlin blood will provide the rest of the relation I need."
The entire time that this was being explained, Albus was preparing the basin. A small knife cut to each fingertip on his right hand - which he pressed into the bottom of the basin – gave him the blood to trace runes decorating the rim of the basin. Motioning for the lock of hair, which was handed to him, Albus then took the vial of blood and dropped the few drops needed into the basin. After a small puff of smoke, the basin was full of a thick blue mixture. The mixture turned black as the hair was dropped in.
"Think of this as … a less tasty Polyjuice potion, which forever makes me a false yet also true relative of the boy" Albus said, carrying the basin over to his desk before he began drinking. After it was downed there was a small flash of red under his skin, and Dumbledore passed out. A little more than shocked for one too many times today, Minerva sat down on the armchair to wait out this new development.
Young Harry shifted fitfully in his new crib, unaware that he was a little less alone in the world.
A short time later
"I have no idea whatAlbus is thinking, giving me a boy to watch with Halloween having just past. Does he not know the amount of candy that makes its way into these children's bellies around this time? And now I have to change a child while he sleepsthe day away?" grumbled the school's nurse Madam Pomfrey.
Her anger wasn't real though, as she smiled at the small boy currently trying to grab onto her St. Mungo's medallion. She was fascinated with him, as it seemed he knew exactly what was going on. The scar on his forehead gave him away as the saviour of the wizarding world, but she didn't let that interrupt her professionalism. If peek-a-boo could be called that.
Madam Pomfrey's games were interrupted by a less-than-subtle cough from the Deputy Headmistress as she came to retrieve the child. Albus was awake, and Minerva was more than ready to get this business over with. Reverently would be the way to describe the care that Poppy was handing over the child, and McGonagall could not fault her for it. She took the same care as she carried baby Harry to the Headmaster's office. People would be floored to see the strict Transfigurist cooing to a small bundle in her arms, and that's exactly how Snape felt when she walked by without noticing him.
Headmaster's Office, 15 minutes previous
With a groan, Dumbledore straightened up at his desk. He knew the ritual would take a lot out of him, but he hadn't passed out since his Animagus training. This prompted him to glance over at the perch that Fawkes liked to frequent. His swan–sized familiar was still there, currently fascinated with something on one of his feathers. Another groan preceded his efforts to stand. Sending Minerva off to retrieve the boy from Poppy, Albus also sent Fawkes with a note detailing the paperwork he would need from the goblins to finalize his actions. Dumbledore would be considered Harry's legal guardian, but Harry would not be considered a descendant.
Sending a few other letters to select folks – mostly fellow Order members and one to the Daily Prophet – left just enough time to savour another sherbet lemon. Albus straightened his robes as he heard the knock on his door and after an affirmation to come in was joined by his second-in-command. Settling the boy into his crib, the two accomplished teachers sat down. Another failed attempt to get someone else to indulge in his vice and Minerva voiced the very thing that had been hovering in the back of her mind since before the ritual.
"The boy will be seen by too many, Albus. We should move Harry to a safer location." Fiddling with her robe only heightened the nervousness she felt.
"There is no safer place as you well know. The blood wards require that he be near me. And my duties require that I be near this school. Rest assured, he will be raised safe and sound in these halls. What better place to cultivate a love of magic and learning than in the very place that cultivated ours?" Were the words that preceded another sherbet lemon. Albus felt that he could indulge himself a little today, knowing that the peace that was slowly being realized across Magical Britain would be able to be experienced for quite some time. Not forever, but enough time that he could get a few contingency plans up and running.
Minerva could only nod, knowing there was no way that she could change his mind. Standing and excusing herself woke the baby in his crib, and a grin broke out on both of their faces as Phineas grumbled and walked away to visit one of his other portraits while he waited for that dreadfully noisy child to grow up.
Albus walked over to the crib and used his long beard to keep the boy entertained as the other professor made her exit. It occurred to him that even though he knew the peace wasn't going to last forever, he could still enjoy it for now. Besides, with a grip like that and the blood in his veins, Dumbledore was all too curious to see how well this boy could fly a broom.
A/N: Well… I've long been a fan of fanfictions, but I've never been inclined to write one. I'm not very good at writing, you see. In school I would barely finish 1-page essays, let alone anything longer. However, my teacher felt that I needed an outlet for creative juices. I usually do this by LARPing though that's once a month at most. I don't want to be one of those authors who can barely spell a damn word or that makes their story so cliché that it hurts just to read it. I might not be a writer of any sort but I love reading with all my heart.
Special thanks to my awesome beta for helping me figure this out! :D
