Short note: Just because I could, I made the year that this happens 2010. So; 2010 = 1995. The rest of the math comes along with itself. Recent year = year it actually happened + 15. There's no real reason, I just wanted to. Pwetty please, no, "Why did you change the year?" comments.

Prologue

S—N

The year of Lily and James Potter's deaths.

The small stack of papers in front of Dumbledore made his eyes blurry. He took off his spectacles, and rubbed his eyes hard, wishing away the small amount of salt water building there, and for some more ounces of energy.

Either way, it had to get done.

He checked the clock. Severus was still at a Death Eater meeting.

The old man reflected, successfully ignoring his papers, and wondered briefly why the young man had decided to tell him that today. This morning, at nearly six-thirty, long before classes started, Severus had come in through the floo and told him gasping for breath, "Dumbledore. I-I'm sure you already know, but I have to tell you. I've become a Death Eater. There's a meeting tonight. I've told them of the prophecy, that either Lily's son or the Longbottom's is to defeat him. I told him, but. . .but. . . Dumbledore."

Albus was so shocked, that for two minutes he merely looked at Severus, not talking, with his mouth open.

"S-sit down, Severus," Albus told his professor, pointing towards an armchair in front of the Headmaster's desk. The gesture and his own internal magic made it slide out a few inches.

Severus had come in so keyed up, but after sitting down he slouched, feeling drained. The headmaster looked after him, concerned. Despite the news, and despite the fact that Albus had known what the poor, young man had become weeks before, Albus was concerned about Severus' well being. He'd been a good student, and an interesting one at that. Always kept the old man on his toes.

As hard as he'd tried, Severus still became one of Voldemort's followers. As he rested in his chair, Albus took a moment to grieve. He was in mourning for Severus' loss of innocence. It hadn't been that long, but the Headmaster was sure Severus had seen things that no one should see.

Albus looked up, and was then staring into Severus' almost black eyes. He had a dark moment – the man had told Voldemort about the prophecy. The sly boy, Albus realized that he hadn't ever known anyone had eavesdropped.

And now the evil wizard of this lifetime knew of Sibyl's rare occurrence of clairvoyance. Millions of questions fell on Albus' tongue: Does he feel threatened? Will he try to do anything about it soon? Who will he attack first? The Potters or the Longbottoms, little Neville and his aging grandmother?

He stayed quiet.

Severus took a deep breath, before he said, "I have to start preparing for class."

The young man had started teaching that past year. Albus took a risk inviting him onto the staff after Slughorn went into hiding. Despite that, Severus was a good teacher, and a great potioneer.

Albus took a deep breath, as well, before he said, "Very well. Come see me, Severus, after your meeting. I'd like for you to tell me exactly what you're going to do about this."

Severus looked deep into the old man's eyes. The blue orbs appeared like they could stare into his soul, which chilled him deep inside, but Severus wondered if they were rather like intense windows. Startling at first, but could he see inside them to who Dumbledore was?

The young man nodded, and was off.

Dumbledore had received an owl with a short message of "I'll be leaving for several hours." It told him that Severus was off to see his new Master, and Severus had not come back from it yet.

Or, thought the Headmaster, he's decided to not stop by, like I asked.

Then, another, less expected visitor nearly slammed open his office door.

He was taken out of his reverie, to stare at the young girl he hadn't seen in a week. She'd been at the last Order meeting, sitting in the back with "Mad-Eye" Moody (as Potter and his friends had taken to calling him), smiling and talking, but holding something back.

The older part of him that seemed to tell him things through his magic, had explained that she was hiding something. It wasn't dangerous, it told him, but she did have a secret.

He hoped it wasn't making her unsteady. She was a great fighter, and knew more about this war than many in the Order.

Norma Gordon looked unsteady, though. She kept a firm hand on her stomach, caressing it, and Dumbledore knew. She was with child – the look in her eyes, oh, he should have known. Order meetings were usually held at the house of Molly and Arthur Weasley, two good friends of Norma's, and when she greeted her little nephews, Dumbledore had thought she seemed more maternal.

At the time, the Headmaster had only hoped it was a sign she was softening up. Norma could be a little brute at times, something Moody liked about the young woman.

"Miss Gordon?" Dumbledore said, point towards the seat where Severus had sat, the chair was still out. The young woman sat down, and ran a hand through her short hair. It stuck up with the movement, and then fell back down to frame her face shortly after.

"Professor Dumbledore," she said in greeting, "I don't have much time, I'm going to be quick. I'm pregnant."

Dumbledore studied the silence. He didn't say a word, but nodded.

Norma had no problem simply going on. "I'm going to be leaving." Dumbledore was slightly shocked, and moved to protest. He was surprised then, as Norma's unwavering look stopped him, along with a long slim finger. "No. I'm leaving. There's more to this than just a young woman getting pregnant. The father doesn't want it. I'm left not only with no husbandly-protection, but really, with more danger than if I was just simply another single mother. I'm leaving," she repeated.

She lifted up her legs and sat, one leg as if she was going to meditate, and the other pulled up close to her chest. Her ankle kept the one she wasn't holding from slipping off the chair. Dumbledore almost snorted at her brass actions. Then again, she did the same thing as a student – when she wasn't wearing the uniform skirt, of course.

Dumbledore thought on the way she spoke. Why did it sound as if she was his age (and his age was nothing to want to be)? Her voice was too weary. He'd thought, when she entered Hogwarts at the age of eleven, that her soul was already an old one. Did she have to grow so much now, too? Shouldn't she get the chance to be young?

"Really, now?" Dumbledore said, finally. The silence had been numbing.

Norma sent him a tired smile, and he knew it was final. "Yes. No one will know where I'm going," Not even you, "but I'd like for you to tell everyone not to look for me, and that I'm fine. I know it's a lot."

She didn't say anything more about it after that.

Instead, she proceeded to give her usual Order reports, telling him what she usually would at the next Order meeting, that was to be tomorrow night. Her next words confirmed his thoughts.

"I'm leaving, now. I wont be at the Weasley's tomorrow." Sadness shone through her eyes with abandon. Dumbledore was shaken.

She adjusted a small bad that wrapped around her torso that he hadn't seen before, and then disapparated, leaving Dumbledore sad, but amused that she'd known Apparition could be done out of the Headmaster's office.