The quiet summer evening seemed oppressive to the teenage boy sprawled across his small cot. Not a sound, not a whiff of breeze permeated his room, which had its tattered curtains drawn. He lay in silent, deep contemplation of the ceiling above his bed. A closer look would have shown the tell-tale tracks of dried tears on his cheeks, which were just beginning to show the darkening of facial hair. His emerald green eyes stared unseeing upward, as his mind worked at a furious pace, belied by his stillness. A first glance would tell most of the world that this was a teenage boy sulking in his room over some imagined slight the universe had offered, as is common among boys his age. When "life is not fair" became reason for a temper tantrum or a long broody sulk. Most of the world would be wrong.

Comparing Harry James Potter to the rest of the world was likening the tail of a mouse to the trunk of an elephant. He simply was different. His differences weren't completely unique. Harry Potter was a wizard. That was startling enough in itself, but even among wizards he was not "ordinary."

His tale began before he was born, some might even say it began in the beginning of time; when good first battled evil for dominance in the world. That battle was never concluded, the victor never decided. Long ago it had been ordained that the battle would be continuous. It would be never ending. The generals would change. The troops would evolve. The battle field would spill over into many spheres of human life, but it would endure. Heroes and villains would rise and fall yet the struggle was eternal. Harry Potter found himself a reluctant and unwitting hero in this battle. But that was the bigger picture. He didn't see it. No one did.

Having just completed 5 years of magical training at one of the most prestigious magical schools in the world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry found himself back in his relatives' house for yet another summer closed off from the hidden magical world he was a part of. Some might wonder how a mere boy, seemingly unremarkable, could be pondering the fate of the world and the ultimate battle between good and evil. His story began thus…

January 10th 1980:

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry bowed his head against the fury of nature and trudged down the winding road in Hogsmeade village, heading towards a dingy old pub called the Hogshead. The rain was lashing down in a vicious torrent, churning the mud into ankle deep slush. Very few people were aware that the proprietor of the pub was in fact the illustrious wizard's brother, Aberforth Dumbledore. Although years apart in age, the brothers' resemblance in their younger years had been uncanny, and they had often been mistaken for one another. Time and cares and worries had aged Albus far more than Aberforth now, not to mention a different hair style and beard set them poles apart in the looks department.

Albus was on his was on his way to interview the great-great-granddaughter of a famous seer, who was seeking a position as a divination teacher at his school. He personally felt divination was an imprecise branch of magic and that it was difficult if not impossible to teach to the general student body. Yet he still felt it would be a severe slight if he didn't at least meet this so called paragon and have a word with her. He entered the pub and ended the protective charm that had kept him dry though he had just walked through the rain to get there. He enjoyed walking in the rain and not feeling cold or wet, there was a certain stark beauty to seeing the forces of nature unleashed.

Patronage of the pub had fallen drastically due to the increase activities of a dark wizard who was currently terrorizing the magical world. Albus frowned as his thoughts turned towards his former student, who had now assumed the mantle of "Lord Voldemort" and was feared by one and all. He alone stood against Voldemort and his quest for power, with a few stalwarts who he had formed into the "Order of the Phoenix", an organization named after his bright red familiar Fawkes.

He nodded at his brother and proceeded up the stairs and began a long and mind-numbingly boring interview with the spectacled witch inside. In the course of conversation, Sybil Trelawney suddenly went rigid, and began to speak in a hoarse voice, which seemed to be a myriad of people speaking at the same time and in different tones and pitches. The hairs on the back of Albus' neck raised as he heard her decry : "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…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" He didn't even register the bang and angry shouts that came from outside the room in the middle of her speech, but was sitting jolt upright as he contemplated what he had just heard. Trelawney was looking at him with vague curiosity. Albus cleared his throat, his mind doing cartwheels as it processed the information he had just heard. "Perhaps you would join me for tea in my office tomorrow… Professor" he said with a twinkle in his eye that belied the furious thinking, strategizing and planning that was already occurring within his formidable intellect. He left the pub in a hurry, heading for the fireplace to floo to his office instead of taking the time to walk back to the school. He vaguely heard his brother grumbling about "ill-manners" and "busy-body Slytherin pests" as he stepped into the green flames and disappeared with a whoosh.

January 11th 1980:

Albus paced around his office, deep in thought. As far as he knew there was only one couple that fit the description given by the seer and that was the Potter's. It also happened that James and Lily potter were expecting a baby around the time that the prophecy spoke about. They had defied Voldemort three times and had lived to tell the tale. It was quickly apparent that their child would probably turn out to be the savior of the wizarding world and deliver them all from darkness. The thought, while mildly comforting, also caused Albus to feel a lot of despair at the thought of how many innocent lives would be lost by the time this baby (who wasn't even born yet) would be ready to face his prophesized nemesis.

He was still pondering this revelation when his fire burned bright emerald green and a panting young man jumped out of the flames and turned towards the fireplace expectantly. He was soon followed by an auburn haired young witch, who had tears streaming down her face and her hand clasped protectively over her belly. In the time it had taken them to turn back towards him, Albus was already across the desk, wand drawn and a grave look in his eyes. "Frank, Alice – what has happened?" he asked sharply even as he used his wand to check them for enchantments and the imperious curse. "Voldemort!" gasped Frank, his eyes downcast and his hands on his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. "Attacked Longbottom Lake." He stumbled over his explanation. Alice seemed to be in shock, and completely unable to form a coherent sentence. "Frank, what happened?!" asked Dumbledore, with far more urgency now that he knew the Dark Lord was involved. "We were having a picnic" came the dull tones of Alice Longbottom, "Frank's mum, dad and the two of us. They came out of nowhere!" her voice broke as she turned to hug her husband, who had recovered himself. "He killed my father!" he said with a shudder as a tear slid out of his eyes. "I don't know where Mother is. She stunned two Death Eaters, and was chased by three more into the woods that surround our house. I grabbed Alice, sent an Expelliarmus at Voldemort and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. We took the Floo from there to your office"

Albus lowered his head in sorrow at the thought of another life taken by the monster. He had known Carl Longbottom for many years and it was with a heavy heart that he comforted his old friend's son and daughter-in-law. As he muttered soothing words and tried to offer them whatever comfort he could, he was suddenly startled by a thought that had been germinating in his mind almost as soon as he knew they had escaped the Dark Lord. "Frank," he asked with excited urgency filled with trepidation "how many times have you and Alice escaped Voldemort together?" Frank and Alice exchanged a baffled glance before he shrugged and said "Three, why?" He didn't understand why Dumbledore suddenly sat down in the visitors chair in his office with a thump, or why he had such a strange mixture of triumph and defeat on his face.

January 12th 1980:

The four young people looked askance of their old Headmaster, as they stood in his office. Having just seen the prophecy given by Trelawney in the pensieve for the second time, they were all bewildered as to what it had to do with them, although Lily and Alice exchanged one glance filled with dread at the mention of when the baby was to be born. They were both well aware that their respective children were both due around that time.

James Potter stood in shock as the meaning of the prophecy sunk in. His child could be the one to vanquish the most evil dark wizard in centuries. He exchanged a look with his old dorm mate Frank. They both didn't put too much stock in divination, but if Albus took it so seriously, they were more inclined to believe it. Plans were made for the couples to go into hiding, and wait for the fates to take their course.

Both couples were adamant about hiding in plain sight. Frank and Alice were both Aurors, determined to renew their fight against the Dark Forces as soon as possible after their loss. Lily was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, and who knew what she got up to, but she refused to take a leave of absence until it was absolutely necessary. James Potter seemed to be a demure character, a fact which was belied by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He was quite simply the most brilliant transfigurationist of his age, and his skills in that branch of magic far surpassed Professor McGonagall or even Dumbledore for that matter. He was wealthy enough to be involved solely in his own research and studies. His papers were often sought after by the renowned publication "Transfiguration Today" and he had absolutely no intention of stopping all that to go into hiding.

It was with a heavy heart that Albus watched them leave, they were so young to be burdened with the knowledge that their child would have to kill or be killed. Time would tell.