Hey All! Yeah, I realize I should be working on my other stories, but I just keep getting new ideas each day and I really can't stop them, so here's another one. Since Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter are my two favorites books, I decided to put them together in a hopefully realistic way. Also, there are some slight crossover material from The Dark is Rising Series. I haven't actually read the series myself, but some of it I thought would work for this story.

I would also like to give a shout out to lembas7 who gave me inspiration for my fic and beta-ed it for me. Thank you! I have her permission to use some of her ideas and so I'm crediting her here for the ideas that may seem similar or exactly the same to the ones in her fantastic universe. If you haven't read her Elijah's Cup Universe stories then GO READ THEM NOW! They are one of the best series out there. Also, I would like to give another shout out to electrum, of whom I will be borrowing some of the manners of speech and/or events that happened in Narnia from electrum. Yes, her stories have permeated Narnia fandom and are we ever glad they did! READ THEM!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot and characters/ideas/spells/anything else you can't find on the Internet. Everything else belongs to C.S. Lewis, J.K. Rowling, and Susan Cooper (and some to lembas7 and electrum, wonderful people that they are).

ENJOY!

To Judge the Lost

Prologue: Beginnings without Ends

Life never turns out exactly how you plan. It can take twists and turns, ups and downs, flips and flops, every second of everyday. Every choice that is made, every word that is spoken, changes a person's plan. There is no absolute when every moment means Change. Plans never equate for people, for ideas, for bad tidings or good; they are bones without skin, drawings without life, thoughts without purpose… beginnings without ends.

…Beginnings without Ends. Now, that is something which very few can ever truly understand. For that which Begins surely must End, right? Many may claim to understand when they reference the Circle of Life, but in truth, it is only a lie to make themselves feel more secure in their roles on Earth. For there is no Circle of Life when Death is an End which a circle does not have. How then, can a Beginning not have an End?

Simple. An equation of good tidings and bad, of people and ideas,…of Old Magics and New Magics, of Live Worlds and Dead Worlds.

To those that live outside of Time, outside of Life, there is no End. Age will not touch Them, Death will not greet Them, Life will not acknowledge Them. They live but are not alive, watch but do not side. Where once there was Black and White, They must now see only Grey; to live the life of an Immortal in a world of mortality is the price They must pay.

As to whether an Immortal can become Mortal – that has yet to be seen.

He should never have left London.

Oh yes, when Peter Pevensie stepped off the train at Coombe Halt that day he knew something was off. By sure, there wasn't anything noticeably different about the old train station (if the platform could be termed as such), but there was something in the air, something with which Peter had become accustomed to over the years.

Magic. Old Magic.

Now, the first thought that came to Peter's mind was, in all tired truth, 'What has Edmund done now?' Luckily for his little brother, the seemingly twenty-eight year old man's mind caught up with his common sense and dismissed the notion. Even on a bad day, his younger brother wasn't so stupid as to try and mess around with the Old Magics. That would just be foolish, foolish to the point that Peter didn't even think the lowest person could ever sink to. So what, then?

Mentally cursing himself for not charging his mobile, Peter began the long walk from the platform to the mansion, fleetingly thinking it was high time he bought a car. The thought passed quickly though, and as the man moved faster down the dirt road, he felt the Magics getting stronger, pulling him forward with a force not unlike that of a call to Narnia.

He moved faster to match the growing Magics. They increased; he went to meet Them.

Almost running now, Peter let his mind wander to such a fantasy; feeling the Narnian winds blow, smelling the sweet smell of ripe dewberries, hearing the sound of feet on marble floors. It was almost as if he could reach out and touch the people moving in the ivory castle halls; talk to them even. He moved his hand closer, feeling the Magics weave around him, only to snap out of his daydream when he felt the Old Magics mix with New Magics.

Peter lowered his hand.

He paid no mind to the throbbing in his chest as the Magics changed and he neared the mansion. The man was used to it by now. After all, such a call Home was impossible.

Narnia had been gone for over forty-six years.

To say that Edmund Pevensie was having a bad day would be an understatement. To say that his day was only getting worse would just barely scrape the bottom of the barrel. In fact, even with his vast knowledge and the knowledge of Susan's old giant dictionary, the younger Pevensie brother still couldn't find an adjective that could accurately describe his day. So…he settled for a long string of words starting with abominable and ending with wretched. Splashing in words such as atrocious, horrendous, and loathsome, while avoiding the word deplorable, Edmund found that by the end of his mental rant he was feeling much better.

Of course, the moment an old man appeared in his fireplace Edmund began a new mental list using the synonyms of the words from the first one. Just his luck for the old geezer to pop in right now, at a moment when he certainly wasn't in any mood to entertain guests. What he wouldn't give for a nice, dusty old book to read and a cup of hot tea. Really, was that too much to ask?

"Edmund, my boy, aren't you going to come over and greet an old man?" Oh yes, a nice dusty book and a cup of hot tea. Please. Where were his siblings when he needed them?

But Edmund just turned to the wrinkled man, not letting his displeasure show, and pasted a forced smile on his face. "Good evening, Albus. What brings you here?"

Albus' eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses; he could see a fake smile a mile away.

"Well, I was in the neighborhood and decided to visit." He moved away from the fireplace and cleaned up the dirt from the floo with a wave of his hand. "I heard there was a wonderful little candy shop down the road and I wondered if maybe I could get some more lemon drops? Then of course, I got to thinking of how long it's been since we had talked and I decided to come for tea. I do hope you don't mind." Was that a glint in the old man's eyes? Edmund looked closer. Yes! Yes it was.

"But of course, Albus. We're always happy to have you." But only when you give us warning first, Edmund thought dismally. So much for his book. Oh well, at least he'd get the tea.

Getting up from where he had been sitting at his desk, the dark-haired, seemingly twenty-five year old walked over to the study door and motioned for the man to follow. As both stepped out into the corridor, Edmund locked the door behind him as he usually did and began to walk towards the sunnier end of the hall.

"Susan and Lucy should be downstairs, and Peter should be home from his trip to London any moment now." The man said from what he could remember from that morning when his older sister woke him up. "The girls might have gone into town for some groceries, but they ought to be back by now."

"That's fine, Edmund." Albus said jovially, as he admired the house's architecture. "So, what have you been up to, my boy?"

Besides wondering why you're really here? Edmund thought, but responded with, "Nothing much. We just returned actually. Peter was looking for a job in London, but I'm not sure how that turned out." It was a nonchalant reply, but Edmund knew that it was always what wasn't said that was important.

"I see." The younger man wasn't sure whether or not that was true, but with Albus Dumbledore nothing was ever truly certain. "Does he need the job?"

Okay, Edmund almost allowed the shock to show on his face. That was more forward than I thought it would be. He didn't know whether or not the old wizard was losing his touch or if he was purposefully leaving hints.

"No, but we like to keep busy." Of course he didn't let his inner thoughts cross into his words. Still, he had the smallest inkling that Albus knew anyway. "Susan even said she was thinking of opening up her own practice so as to keep from boredom."

Okay, so she had really said that she was thinking of funding a practice, but Edmund had learned that sometimes an omittance worked just as well as the complete truth…most of the time…sometimes. Besides, it would be completely impossible for them to even think of owning something that they would have to close within three or four years. A fact Albus knew entirely too well.

"Ah," That could mean anything, but the not-really twenty-five year old was pretty sure he had guessed at the correct meaning. That being an "ah" of 'I-have-a-proposition-for-you-but-I'm-not-entirely-sure-what-your-reaction-will-be-so-I'll-just-continue-on-as-if-nothing-is-amiss.'

Yeah. Like that was going to work.

Somewhere in the house—most probably the foyer—a door opened and heavy footsteps could be heard. Two high-pitched cries rang out as well, and even from where he was, Edmund was pretty sure the squeals would be echoing in his ears for a while. Seeing as he and his guest were still on the second floor in the west wing of the large house, the younger man was pretty sure that said something about his sisters. Whether it was flattering or not had yet to be determined.

"Peter's home," he said, unnecessarily. Oh well, anything to end the awkward silence would be welcome.

"I heard." If only his students could see him now: Albus Dumbledore grimacing while trying to get the high-pitched squeals out of his ringing ears. Well, at least Edmund was smirking. That was good…occasionally.

"Don't worry, you get used to it." The younger man said good-naturedly.

"You would think I would have gotten used to it already after all these years." Albus smiled, letting his eyes twinkle merrily. He had missed talking to the Pevensies, they made him feel young again.

"I've spent my entire lives with them and I've only now just gotten used to it." He added the plural on 'lives' as a slight reminder to Albus of to whom he was actually talking to. "Don't think that grey hair, more wrinkles, and fewer visits are going to make you any more immune than I." Both men chuckled. It was true after all.

They walked in companionable silence as they reached a flight of stairs leading to the first floor drawing room. In fact, the silence was so much more pleasant that Edmund actually began to forget his bad mood from earlier, and as they entered the salon he felt much lighter. Of course, that which goes up, must surely come down. Curse Lucy and her bad timing.

"Edmund!" He heard her clearly before she even entered the room. This meant, unfortunately, that she was just that much louder when she burst through the doors, skirt flying, hair messy, and smile bright. "Edmund! Peter's home and-" But she cut herself off as she noticed the old wizard in the gaudy purple robe.

"Albus!" She leapt at the old man and gave him a hug, talking a mile a minute so that her brother could only catch every other five words. He was sure Albus understood it all though. "What are you doing here? Oh, you must come and say hello to Peter and Susan! They will be so happy to see you, it's been so many years." With that, she grabbed the old man's hand and began to pull him excitedly out of the room, still talking, and into the hall leading to the kitchen.

"Lucy!" She paid no heed, of course, to Edmund's call. Sighing, her older brother followed at a more sedate pace, keeping a measured distance between himself and the other two.

As they neared the kitchen two other voices could be heard, one low and one soft, both rising in volume to welcome the old man when he entered. Susan and Lucy had apparently been making dinner when Peter arrived and Edmund belatedly wondered what had happened to lunch. He even said so to Susan as he took a seat at the plain wooden table, consequently earning himself a slight glare from his 'gentle' sister.

"You yelled you weren't hungry and slammed the door in my face, remember?" Actually, Edmund didn't remember such an event, but he hadn't survived this long without learning when to surrender.

"You did what, Ed?" Peter sat down next to him after welcoming Albus with a firm handshake, and gave him the look of reprimanding amusement. That is, he was trying to be stern, but was failing miserably.

"…I don't recall." His older sister sent him a look of disbelief and Albus' eyes twinkled behind the glasses. Peter, it seemed, didn't know whether or not to laugh or maintain his reprimanding look. Luckily for Edmund, his little sister saved him by returning with tea.

"Oh Susan, don't be so hard on him. Edmund's had a long day." Bless Lucy and her good timing.

"But he hasn't even left his study since this morning!" Okay, so Susan had a point, but that didn't mean anything for such a person as prone to danger as Edmund.

"Yes, but you know how Ed is, Su. He's probably had a million of little things happen to him since then."

"That doesn't mean he can be rude, Lucy!" Wow, Su was really worked up about this, if the color of her face was any indication.

"Um, girls?" That was Peter, who was still trying to get his amusement under control, while dividing his attention between his sisters and their guest. "Perhaps we can continue this conversation at another time?"

Susan looked a bit put out, but she relented. "Oh alright, but don't think you're out of trouble Edmund Randall Pevensie. We're going to continue this later." Said man didn't really care. He knew that by the end of this day, his siblings would have more to think about than his bad temper. Edmund just wished he could figure out what it was.

"Now Albus, would you like something to eat?" Susan turned to the man with a smile, and Edmund couldn't help but wonder at her fast transformation.

"Yes, thank you, Susan, that would be lovely." He gave her that funny little smile which Susan returned, and went to pour him a bowl of the stew she had apparently been preparing.

"Hey, don't we get anything?" Edmund called out to her, only to be rewarded with a spoon to the head. "Oi! Watch where you throw things, Su!" He could have sworn he heard a chuckle somewhere.

Fortunately, Susan returned with five bowls of the stew, although Edmund could have sworn Peter had more than he did by over half a bowl. Of course, when he said as much, his brother promised to eat Edmund's share. He stopped complaining.

"So, Albus," Peter began after a few minutes of content (for most) eating. "What are you here for?" The look on the old wizard's face was enough for the four Pevensies to understand that the man had hoped they hadn't caught on. "Oh, come now, Professor, surely you didn't think you had us fooled?"

The wizard chuckled. "No, but you can't blame an old man for trying."

"Yes, well you'll forgive us if we don't exactly buy the fact that you arrive unannounced, by floo I should add, to have dinner with four people you haven't had any real contact with in over twenty years." It was clear to all that Peter wanted an answer.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say twenty years, Peter." While the man's eyes twinkled, there was a definite age to them that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"A few written messages and warnings hardly equate to contact." Edmund spoke up, suddenly feeling very anxious. What had happened put such an old look in the man's eyes? "Still, that doesn't answer why you are here."

Albus sighed, looking even older. "I'm sure by now you know about what happened last year during the Triwizard Tournament." He paused and the Pevensies nodded. Of course they knew. "I fear what will happen this year, now that the ministry is starting to act at the school."

"You're worried about Mr. Potter." It was Lucy who spoke, finishing up a bite of her stew.

"Among others." He looked down at his meal and the Pevensies got the distinct impression that he was trying to see the future in the tomato-like mixture.

"While that's understandable, Albus, I still don't see how we can help." Susan was looking at the sad old wizard with a soft, calculating eye. Unfortunately, as usual, she had a point.

"I was hoping," he paused as if to gather nerve, something the Pevensies never thought they would ever see him do. "I was hoping that you might consider coming to Hogwarts for the year, just to keep an eye on everything." It was the most flustered the four had ever seen the professor before and, truthfully, it unsettled them.

"Albus…" Peter trailed off and looked uncertainly at his siblings. They returned the looks and Lucy gave a weak shrug. Moral dilemma, definitely. "Albus you know we can't-" But he cut himself off, not quite sure what to say.

"You've all been helping secretly for years, just, please." It was the first time the Pevensies ever heard him beg and it struck a chord in them that had them both sad and angry at the same time. He knew that they weren't supposed to interfere directly.

A few moments of tense silence passed as the four siblings tried to tame their raging emotions. As the first to do so, Peter sighed long and heavy, "We will think about it."

The relief was evident on the old man's face as he smiled at them and the twinkle that had been lost sometime during the conversation returned to his eyes.

"But we make no promises." The blond gave him a stern look and Albus nodded in consent.

They finished dinner in silence.

"No."

"Su-"

"I said no, Peter. You know we can't."

"But Susan-"

"Peter." His younger sister looked at him in such a way that it reminded him of their mum. Though dead for the past forty-six years, her glare was still firm in his mind. "We. Can't."

"Susan, listen-"

"No, Peter. We all made a vow years ago not to get involved. Why now do you suddenly feel like breaking it?" If not for the harshly questioning stare, Peter wouldn't have thought she was very intimidating. As it was, her face made the eldest sibling pause slightly before trying to answer.

"Because they need help." There, it was as simple as that. Too bad for him, Susan didn't really see it that way.

"Peter, if we do this, then we'll be picking a side. We're not allowed to do that." She ended with a huff and sat down on the worn sofa in Professor Kirke's old study.

Dinner had ended two hours before and the Pevensies had seen Dumbledore off soon after, promising to alert him when they reached a decision. Retreating to the present room to discuss their options, the siblings had yet to reach such a consensus. In fact, as it currently stood, they were getting nowhere.

"Su, if we don't help them then who knows what will happen!" Peter exclaimed, too tired of this discussion to really think his words through; hence, the argument with Susan.

"Who knows what will happen if we do!" The elder of the girls rasped out from her seated position. "How do we know we won't make the situation worse? I mean we haven't had any real contact with the main wizarding world in over thirty years. Just because we have all these abilities doesn't mean we're omniscient!"

"Okay, I think you both need to calm down." Edmund's voice cut through the tired argument, and both of his elder siblings turned to look at him. "Remember, the war hasn't even started yet."

"No, but when it does what are we to do?" Susan asked, nerves frazzled. "Who's to say it won't start tomorrow, or next week, or even next month. We don't have enough information."

"If we go to Hogwarts this year then we'll be able to get that information, Su." Peter pointed out, annoyed.

"Besides, we were all trying to find a way to escape boredom earlier. This could definitely help." Lucy smiled brightly at her sister, and her brothers offered small smiles in return. Susan, on the other hand, wasn't so accepting.

"This isn't about that, Lu." She sounded exasperated and tired at the same time, and not necessarily from lack of sleep. "What about our Vow?"

Her siblings' downtrodden faces were their only responses.

"We're not allowed to take sides. We must see the world as Grey. This isn't Narnia where everything is cut and dry, you know. Then and there, we could take a side. Not now." Susan said finally and laid her head in her hands.

The other three sighed. She was right.

Suddenly, Edmund's head shot up from where he had been looking at the floor, startling his siblings out of their inner musings. No, Susan wasn't right, at least, not completely.

"We're already a part of the war though, remember?" Seeing the other three's confused faces, he pressed on. "Voldemort was Tom Riddle, right?" Peter scowled at the name, but it proved his point. "Well then, technically speaking, we started this war when we told Tom about the Horcrux book. If we hadn't done that he probably wouldn't have found it."

"But, Ed, Aslan told us to tell Tom about the book." Lucy interjected. "He told us right before we left that we had to go back and tell Tom about it."

"Exactly, Lu. We helped one side, now we have to help the other." That cleared some things up, and Susan was actually smiling the first real smile Edmund had seen on her all day.

"But what about our little Book Keepers? Don't they count as helping the other side?" Lucy asked after a moment.

"Not exactly. Currently they're all in the Grey area so they fall under our direct jurisdiction. Since some of them come from dark backgrounds and others from light ones, technically we're not helping either side with them." Having said that, the dark haired man leaned back on his chair in contentment.

"Edmund, sometimes your knack for finding loopholes astounds me." Peter half-joked, only to be met in the face with a pillow.

"Shut up, Pete." He laughed and threw it back at his younger brother, too used to the younger man's temperament.

"So, are we going to go or not?" Lucy moved to sit on the arm of the sofa as she asked. Turning her head to look at her eldest brother, he in turn turned towards the elder of his two sisters.

"Susan?"

A pause in which said woman seemed to struggle with herself. A moment later she apparently gave up and nodded her head slightly.

"Fine." A small cheer went up from the eldest and the youngest of the four. "But, but, if I feel that something is going to happen, we leave and return to the Woods, understood?" The others nodded and Susan relaxed, happy that the decision was out of the way.

"Now, to the next order of business-,"

"You sound like Chamberlain Goldfeather, Ed." Another pillow to the older man's face allowed Edmund to continue uninterrupted.

"Lu, you mentioned our little Book Keepers. Have you been watching them recently?" The youngest nodded, excitedly.

"Mmhm, in fact, I do believe some of them are starting to understand the stories."

"Really?" That was surprising seeing as only a few of the seven books could be understood independently of each other. "Who?"

"Draco Malfoy." Understandable, his book was almost a stand-alone. "Neville Longbottom." Also understandable. "And Luna Lovegood." That wasn't much of a surprise only because Luna was so unique.

"And the other four?"

"Still lost." Nods all around. They had expected that. At least the books were safe though.

"Well, if that is all, I think we should all be getting to bed." Peter said a minute later, getting up and cracking his knuckles.

Edmund and Lucy moved to follow him, but Susan curiously stayed sitting. Crossing her arms, she cleared her throat and glared at her little brother's back.

"I wouldn't be going anywhere Edmund Randall, we still have to talk about your attitude this morning."

Peter and Lucy laughed.

Frustrated.

That was the only word that could accurately describe what Draco Malfoy was feeling at that very moment. Now, it wasn't because he hadn't gotten the new broom he wanted or because his parents were off at another party, no, he was frustrated because he couldn't understand what was wrong with the damn book he was reading.

As opposed to most of the other books in his family's library, this one wasn't dark or yellowing from disuse. In fact, in comparison, it wasn't all that old. One of the things that was annoying him about the book though, was that fact that it was old enough to not look as pristine as it was.

It was a children's book actually, one Draco had found when he mis-flooed into an old mansion at about the age of five. Most of the books he had had at that age were now yellow. Another thing was that he couldn't seem to get rid of it. He was positive that every year he didn't put the book into his school trunk, but sure enough, it always turned up. Draco had even asked the house elves if it was their doing, but they always replied with a, "No, Master Draco." It was infuriating.

He'd even tried to destroy it, but: a. he had once tossed it into the fire and it didn't burn, and b. he had once sent a spell at it only for the spell to dissolve. Frankly, the book creeped him out.

All that aside, however, it wasn't what was (currently) annoying him about the small little novel. No, what was really frustrating about the book was that fact that he couldn't get it out of his head. When he had first read it—without his father's knowledge—he had been astounded to discover that it seemed to be muggle in origin seeing as there were no references to wizardry and witches were apparently "evil." At first realization, the little wizard had been ready to toss the book away, but…it had been such a good story! He couldn't do it! Whether or not that was a good decision still had yet to be determined.

However, that wasn't what had prompted his sudden inability to forget about the little fairytale.

As it stood, Draco had been getting Pansy and Blaise settled into the manor before they were to leave for school the next week. They always arrived together, and the blond had wanted to speak with his friends about something so he had helped them unpack. What he found at the bottom of Blaise's trunk (for he would never help Pansy with her luggage) had been a small book. The main title was exactly the same as his, but the subtitle was different, almost like it was one of a set.

When Pansy saw it, she announced—rather loudly—that she had a similar book with a different subtitle. After all three sat down together to show their copies, they soon realized that together the stories made very little sense. Pansy's and Blaise's seemed to be closer, but there was a rather large gap between theirs and his.

Also, for being written around the same time, all three books were absolutely pristine with no hint of dust or tear. They had even tested the novels by ripping a page in each and closing them. Upon opening the books again, the tears were gone as if they had never been. They tried test after test: burning them, blasting them with spells (which, not surprisingly, never even reached the targets), and even throwing them in water. No matter what, the books never changed.

The worst part was when they tested for protection spells. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The tests proved negative to any type of protection whether they were light or dark. Nothing. Annoyingly, they weren't surprised.

When asked where they had gotten the little novels, both Pansy and Blaise responded that they had mis-flooed to an old mansion and found the books alone in an old wardrobe. The fact that they all went at different times and each only found one book in the exact same spot was slightly eerie.

Combined with his usual insomnia, the inability to get the muggle fairytale out of his head was increasingly aggravating the Malfoy heir. His two friends had gone to bed not long ago, but Draco seemed unable to get the confusing puzzle to leave him alone. As it stood, the blond spent the night trying to understand whatever happened to High Queen Ann, King Martin, Queen Rose, and King Peter.

With a sigh of relief, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sank down in his chair and closed his eyes. They had accepted. Thank Merlin, They accepted.

The meeting that he had just undergone with Them had been draining and nerve-wracking for the old man. No matter how innocent or safe the Four may have looked, They were truly some of the most powerful people in the world(s). Oh, for sure, They weren't witches and wizards, never had been despite their ancestry, but muggles They certainly weren't either. In fact, Dumbledore didn't really know what They were.

For a long time, he had overlooked them; let them stupidly slip past the locating charms even when their mother expressed concerns. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on your point of view), before he let them slip completely, they did the impossible; they stopped Magic. Not magic, Magic; the capitalization could be heard. And not only did they stop It, but they ripped It apart, piece by piece, and placed It in a willow tree.

That tree was more popularly referred to now as the Whomping Willow.

However, the truly terrifying part about that was the fact that they had stopped the Magic from within a wizard and extracted it. That man then had to live out the rest of his days as a muggle. The eldest Pevensie had only been fourteen years old.

At the time, through numerous tests, Albus was able to deduce that both Magic and magic would not be able to affect them unless they allowed It to. They could rip the Magic out of a person and give It to another if they so chose to and they could follow the flow of the mystical energy through time and worlds. Unfortunately, everything must come with a price.

The Pevensies' price: their mortality and their morality. No longer could they age, though they were free to alter their bodies to fit an age they had already been, and no longer could they pick a side. Sometimes, They had to let the dark have good luck. Thankfully for him, They had already helped the blacker end of Magic, as They had so greatly stressed to him.

Albus wasn't quite sure how long he had been waiting before his old body was forcefully dragged into the Woods. Having only been there a few times before, he was disorientated and slightly sleepy, suddenly feeling as if his world was being erased from his mind. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep or if the Four arrived before that, but all the old professor could really determine was that one minute he was sitting at the base of a tree and the next he was standing in front of four, very regal Beings.

His body moved without his consent, bowing before the Four and saying, "Your Majesties," in a reverential tone.

Whether They returned anything in kind, Albus wasn't completely sure, his mind still trying to focus itself. They did, however, guide him over to one of the many pools of water on the ground and motioned for him to stand before it. After this, the professor wasn't sure how much Time passed, or if It even passed at all, before Peter spoke, but the feeling of absolute awe that replaced his former naïveté about the in between place would probably always remain with him.

"Albus," said man snapped his head to look at the elder of the two men that stood before him, and inclined his to acknowledge that he was listening. "We have spoken thoroughly on the request you brought before Us earlier, and We have decided to accept."

Euphoria erupted within the old wizard's body, but before he could say a word of thanks, Peter continued. "However, make no mistake. We do not do this for your sake or even for the sake of those beside you, but because We are already involved in this war."

"You know We are not allowed to pick a side to help win, but because We have already aided the Dark, Our time to aid the Light has come." Edmund picked up, and Albus was surprised to hear such power that was usually absent whenever he visited.

"Thank you, Your Majesties." The old man bowed again, this time more in control.

"You are most welcome, professor." The older of the girls stated with a serious look in her normally gentle eyes. "But you must remember while We are with you that you do not command Us. We are not your students or your staff. We are not subject to the rules of your school and We are allowed to roam wherever We feel it is necessary. We are there on your request and if We feel as if you are abusing your power, We will put you in your place."

Cowed, Dumbledore nodded.

"You must also keep in mind, Albus," Lucy spoke, solemnly. "That sometimes even the dark side must have good luck. We are not there to determine this battle, but to prepare your students for it and to protect them if need be. It is up to all of you, however, to determine who wins and who loses."

The purple robe he wore brushed the ground as the old man bowed again in acknowledgement.

"That being said," Edmund began. "We will pose as children in order to better speak to and gain information from the students. Each of Us will chose a house to reside in and We will try and prepare the other children as much as We possibly can."

"Hogwarts does not accept transfer students, though." Albus stated, confused as to how They were to pull this off.

"We know, which is why We will use Our relation to you and say We were home schooled. Each of Us will have Hogwarts acceptance letters as proof." The dark haired man continued, pulling out four letters that Albus was sure he had never sent. Oh well, the time to dwell on that would be later. The more pressing concern about the plan was something else.

"But, if You pose as students, You will be much too young to be my grandchildren." The strange old man replied. For, in truth, that was who They were: his grandchildren. The children of his most beloved younger daughter.

"Which is why We will say We are your descendants of five generations past." Susan said, looking at the man Their mother told Them to call 'Grandfather.'

"I understand." He didn't, not really, but he knew They would only reveal what They felt needed to be said.

"Good." The blond man nodded. "Now, we will return you to your office. Until then, Grandfather."

And Albus Dumbledore entered the pool before him and returned from the Wood between the Worlds.

He sighed again at the memory. Every time he saw them like that, he wondered at what his line had become. Not many knew of the loveless and short-lived, arranged marriage he had had to Abigail Kirke, nor did many know of the two daughters, Squibs both, that marriage had produced. As such, his grandchildren were born without the Magic that normally would be expected from the line of such a great wizard. That is, until the day his grandchildren, all of them, displayed the ability to reject Magic. Only one of those grandchildren was dead now, the others probably never to follow.

Oh, the secrets of Magic and those that lived with It.

His thoughts began to wander to the upcoming year and what it would bring. He knew the Pevensies would arrive on September 1st just like all of the children, but that was really the extent of it. How they would arrive was a mystery to him, as he did not know whether they would ride the train or come by some other such way that would leave him baffled. Not surprisingly, they did retain some of his love for secrecy.

Chuckling slightly to himself at the thought, the old wizard grabbed a handful of lemon drops and popped them into his mouth. The tangy and sour taste erupted on his tongue and he mumbled in pleasure. Just the thing to calm his fraying nerves.

Speaking of fraying nerves, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was beginning to rub them against sandpaper. Now, Dumbledore was a very patient man and he was a very considerate one as well, but Dolores seemed bent on driving that patience and kindness to their ends. The sad part was that he had only met her that day, which actually prompted him to the Four for help.

At least Harry is at the Headquarters now, he thought belatedly, trying to get his mind away from Madam Umbridge. The flight from Number Four Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place had, at first, worried the old man, but he had had confidence in the Order to get Harry there safely. Thankfully, they did not disappoint him.

Still, as the moon shone down into the office, Albus' eyes ceased to shine and he sighed again, letting his mind wonder the 'what ifs' to come.

Well, that's it for the prologue. I hope I piqued your interest and that I raised questions. Hopefully, I left enough hints for all of you to figure some of the things out and I would love to know what you think.

Please review, but DON'T FLAME! I encourage constructive criticism, but flames don't help stories get better. And yes, I know Dumbledore is gay, which is why he never fell in love with his wife and the marriage was short-lived. However, for such a powerful wizard of the time, I felt that he might have been pressured into an arranged marriage.

I don't know when the next update will be because I have many other stories I'm writing and I also have to do College Applications and prepare for my IB tests. Thank you so much for reading though, and I hope to hear from you all soon!

Happy Belated New Year! BYE!

--TimeMage0955