AN: This story is actually the product of a line I read in 'Harry Crow' by Robst. It just got me wondering. Wondering became brainstorming, the brainstorming became a distraction so I decided to put in print. This is my first story after many many stories read. I'm not sure what my update schedule will be like as I do not consider myself a strong writer by any stretch. There will be some elements of 'The Dresden Files' by Jim Butcher but not enough I feel to warrent it being called a crossover. I do hope you all enjoy.

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Dresden Files' or 'Harry Potter'. I gain no profit from this other than to lay to rest the ideas that were popping in and about my head.

London, 1960

Steven Thatcher was sitting down speechless. Of all the things he was expecting to happen this year, this was not one of them. Celeste Lavigne was not someone he was expecting to see again, despite his wishes, let alone carrying a small four month old boy named Steven, after his father. He had just turned 18 and had just managed to secure a job at the London Ports and in no position to be supporting a family.

He had assumed due to her lack of contact that it was just a summer romance, just another teenage girl staying with some relatives in London over the summer holidays before heading back to France. Now here she was, looking completely downtrodden as if she were waiting for the other boot to drop. Not that he could blame her.

After a surprising phone call they had arranged to meet in this little pastry shop. He knew immediately where they were sitting as soon as he entered the shop, it was rather hard to miss the death glare locked on to him. Without so much as an introduction, Mr. Lavigne said five words that informed Steven that his life was going to change "She is your responsibility now" and left the tea shop without ever turning back.

London, 1971

The Thatcher family sat stunned in their living room. Magic was real. Little Steven was a wizard! Professor McGonnagal had arrived today with a letter for Steven Jr. and it all started to come together. The clothes that would change color, he hated pastels despite his mother's insistence on how good he looked, the vanishing vegetables from his dinner plate despite having no place to hide them and certainly how he managed to get hit by the car with not even a scratch, though it did not save him from his mothers' spanking for running blindly into a street.

Magical education was a no brainer but the thought of a boarding school was bringing them up short. They had inherited their house after his parents' sudden death 8 years ago. While it helped save on costs a boarding school was just simply out of the question. Even with the help of the special fund for muggleborn students the costs were simply out of their reach.

Thankfully the Ministry sponsored schools were free. Books, from the looks of things, they could afford. Steven and Celeste silently vowed that they would make every effort to supply their son with every resource in pursuit of his education.

Paris, 1976

The Thatchers were trying to enjoy a rare vacation for a holiday. They had a dual purpose for the trip. The first was Steven Jr graduating at the top of his class. Judging by his grades the investment in books for him had paid off quite well. He had even managed to secure a job as a Curse Breakers assistant. From the way he described it, it involved a lot of travel and more opportunity to learn new magic but the pay was rather inconsistent depending on the 'plunder'.

The elder Thatchers were concerned for a little while. While they were aware that Steven had missed out on the Hogwarts scholarship, it wasn't until about 2 weeks later that he came home noticeably upset after a trip to the Ministry of Magic. He had stayed depressed for about a week, his spirits only lifting upon receiving his notification on his new job.

Celeste was more than a little put off on the fact that her only child would be out joining the world at only 16. She was hoping that he would have stayed home for a few years longer pursuing his muggle education. Her mood certainly wasn't improved upon with the other reason they were back in France.

They had tried reconciliation with her father 6 years earlier at the behest of her grandfather. Her grandfather was the only family member that had managed to stay in contact with her. Tired of only seeing pictures, he wanted to see his favorite grandchild and great-grandson in person, but with his son taking her pregnancy as a personal affront, the reunion efforts had died before anything could be planned.

Salvadore Lavigne had fought in two world wars, and led a resistance cell in occupied France before taking over the family vineyards. Through a combination of hard work, charm, his war record, and business savvy he had managed to turn the vineyards into an international name. Sadly, due to the injuries accumulated through 2 world wars the stress that accompanied running a vineyard the size he had built it to was counterproductive to his health and had to hand the reigns to his son twenty years ago.

His health had deteriorated quickly in the past year. His dying wish was to see his granddaughter and great-grandson before he died. Unfortunately, it had taken 6 months to convince his son and thus the Thatchers had arrived a day too late.

The funeral was a solemn affair. Young Steven didn't know how to feel. On the one hand, he had only heard of his great-grandfather with pictures being his only point of reference. On the other, impossible not to know just how much he meant to his mother and could not help but shed a some tears with her.

With the services concluded the Thatchers had made to leave only to be intercepted by Peirre Lavigne, Celeste's father. Upon seeing his daughter arrive with what would be his oldest grandchild, something in him had changed. Whatever resolve he had built up over the last 16 years had broken as he saw her and her family when they entered the viewing room.

He didn't know what he was going to say or what he could do to try to reconcile with his daughter. He was hoping an offer to stay at the family home for the remainder of their holiday would be enough time to get things started but he never got the chance to even offer. Before he could utter a single syllable a thundering crack was heard throughout the room as her slap floored him.

Staring up at her, he was met with her glare. It was the same glare he mused that must have adorned his own face when he abandoned Celeste to her husband. He had a sudden realization at that moment, and found that it wasn't that much of a surprise, he was too late.

Staring at her father until he dropped his head in shame Celeste grabbed the hands of her son and husband and left the estate. She never bothered looking back.

London 1979

Steven and Celeste were regretting ever letting Professor McGonnagal into their home and introducing them to the world of Magic. The past three years had been difficult as they found themselves on the peripherals of the wizarding civil war going on and sometimes in the middle of battles.

They worried when they had first heard of the war when their son was in school but found that for the most part it was invisible to them. The battles were happening in the magical world and the schools were never targeted.

They realized two years ago that it was a saving grace that their son's occupation took him out of the country regularly and for significant periods of time. After all, he couldn't be involved if he wasn't even in the country by their logic.

Eventually, the fights they were hearing about were starting to spill into the muggle world. Muggleborns were starting to be targeted. Missing persons reports were being announced more and more and the weeks went by. Then it happened.

The parents of muggleborns were being targeted. Despite not being a student anymore their son had warded their home. He insisted that it was only precautionary, if any wizard arrived and tried to cast any spell within a 100 foot radius of the home the wards would alarm and remove the person from the vicinity. He relayed that the strength of the wards would be strong enough to keep the wizard or witch out long enough to call the police. Wizards hated having to deal with police and would normally leave quickly.

Despite his assurances Steven Jr. knew he had become a target. He had worked his way from being a mere Curse Breakers assistant to an apprenticeship under Jonathan and Samantha Skewers. He had impressed them when a nundu had attacked their camp. Steven Jr had notified the camp of the creature's tracks he had found while surveying the surrounding area for edibles, putting them all on alert. In the subsequent attack a week later he delayed activating his own emergency portkey to retrieve the Skewer's notes on the tomb they were trying to enter.

When he finally arrived at the rallying point the Skewers first berated him for doing something so foolish. They then informed him that if he was going to go out and perform stupid acts of heroism then he would need as much magical knowledge that he could handle. He was to start his apprenticeship as soon as he recovered from the injuries the nundu had given him.

When word got out that the Skewer's had taken on an apprentice, people were of course curious. It quickly turned to disgust in certain circles when they learned that a 'mudblood' had earned the coveted position without really trying when deserving purebloods had been vying for the position for years.

The first attack happened when the elder Thatcher's had accompanied their soon to Diagon Alley to buy a new trunk before going to catch a movie as a family. The family had managed to take shelter in Madam Malkins while the Auror's and Deatheaters battled outside. Steven Jr had quickly helped the Auror's in the fight realizing that with the Deatheaters anti-apparition wards up there was no way to safely evacuate his parents. Pushing the Deatheaters back into Knockturn alley he quickly started to break the wards to allow those trapped in the alley to escape.

Unfortunately it was at that time that Lord Voldemort had decided to make his appreance. The Auror Frank Longbottom and James Potter distracted the Dark Lord long enough for Steven to finish bringing down the wards. Once down he raced to where his parents were hiding and he followed the Aurors example and side-along apparated them away to safety.

Fearing that he'd been recognized Steven Jr. supplied his parents with an emergency portkey. He was leaving on another expedition and wanted another measure to help protect them. It wasn't even month after he had left that his parents needed used it.

Steven Jr's fear had come true. A former classmate, Michael Parkinson, had taken the dark mark after being awarded a scholarship to continue his education at Hogwarts. Michael had recognized Steven as he was bringing down the wards at Diagon Alley. The Dark Lord had demanded to know the name of the one responsible for allowing the escape of Longbottom and Potter. Being a faithful Deatheater, Micheal offered up Steven's name, as well as informing his lord of Stevens' coveted apprenticeship explaining his ability to bring down the wards. The order was out, the mudblood what be taught what it meant to interfere with Lord Voldemort's plans.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your outlook, Steven had warded his families home very well. None of the Deatheaters who had gone to attack the home were skilled enough to bring down the wards themselves. Frustrated with his followers lack of ability, while giving grudging respect to the teachings of the Skewer's, Lord Voldemort arrived himself to drop the wards. Fortunately for the Thatchers, when the Deatheaters entered the house they were far away having activated their portkey.

Finding themselves in a Ministry sponsored refugee point from giant attacks. The Thatcher's were on the verge of panic with no idea on what to do next. After contacting work for time off, stating a family emergency, the Thatchers planned their next move. It was a week later that the Deatheaters had attacked the refugee center.

Celeste was dropped to ground screaming in agony when a Deatheater stumbled on their hiding spot. Steven was about to charge the wizard when a witch arrived driving off his wife's attacker. While he never got her name he swore he'd make it up to his wife's red-headed savior somehow. After making said oath he quickly picked up his wife and made his way to the evacuation points where another portkey would take them away to safety.

Hogsmeade 1980

Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore was concerned. While fully expecting to end the day with the removal of Divination as an elective at Hogwarts, Sybyll Trawleny had done what most would have thought the impossible. She had made a prophecy. Not just any prophecy mind you, one about the Lord Voldemort and his future vanquisher. What's worse, one of the Dark Lords Deatheaters' had managed to hear the first part of it. He had managed to get away from Aberforth but at least he did not hear the entire prophecy.

Actions had to be taken, and soon. It did not take him long to deduce the possible suspects. Both Alice and Lily had just announced their pregnancies much to the joy of their families and close friends. However, he had to contact them soon, and encourage them to keep the news quite as long as they can manage it. He was aware of spies in the Order but had not yet managed to figure out who.

Regardless, plans had to be made. He had to play things close to the vest, possibly even keeping the Longbottoms and Potters in the dark until it was time to act. If the prophecy he had just heard was true then the wizarding world could ill-afford to let Tom and his followers catch wind of his plans.

For a moment, just a moment, he considered the possibility that he was acting too rashly. After all, Divination as a whole is a wooly subject and it was almost routine for prophesies to not be fully understood until after they come to completion. But for the life of him he could not think of anyone else that the prophecy could possibly apply to. No, he had to move forward with his plans; the wizarding world depended on it.

Paris 1980

Celeste was in shock, it just couldn't be true, not after all this time. They had tried and tried over the years but had given up hope over the last few. She was currently sitting in the home of one of her cousins pondering her next course of action.

After years of begging and pleading she had decided to take up some of her families offers at reconciliation. Her cousins were offering to be the mediators and offered her a place to stay for the next several months as they attempted to bring her back into the family folds. It was a slow process, some family members were still influenced by her father's opinions of her over the years. She was listed as a disgrace with such vehemence that it was not easy to change their impression, especially with the image she left them with at her grandfathers' funeral. While she was having some minor success with some cousins, she simply could not even stomach the idea of being in the same room with her father. Besides, coming to France for the attempt had gotten them out of London. She just hoped that the next few months didn't add too much stress, she had her doubts that her body could manage it.

Steven had arranged a sabbatical from work to care for Celeste while she recovered. Whatever the Deatheater had hit her with, it had weakened her constitution. She tired faster, slept for longer, and had intermittent bouts of flaring pain. Her doctors were stumped. It was as it all of her nerve endings would suddenly flare at the same time without any stimulus. While the flares were becoming more infrequent they had their doubts that she'd ever make a full recovery.

Returning home after some minor 'negotiations', for lack of a better word, with his estranged father-in-law Steven found his wife almost on the verge tears. "Whats wrong ma petite chuchu?" he asked as he quickly made his way to her side. Celeste smiled at the term of endearment he had started calling her all those years ago when they first met.

Wiping her eyes, she took his hands in hers and let him know what was on the forefront of her mind. "I'm pregnant."