A/N: So hi, this is my first proper fanficton I've done after I attempted one a while back but it didn't really go according to plan and didn't have a solid plot. This FanFic I'm pretty sure has been done before but I wanted to do my own. Will include Dark Dumbledore and characters will be quite OOC though I will try my best to keep them as much in character as possible. A bit of Weasley bashing but not Dark Weaslys. AU. This will be partly cannon at first as it will follow the plot but obviously have it's twists and I want it to seem although its something that could have happened.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, if I did I'd be rich and the most amazing Author in the world...


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Prologue

1981

Albus Dumbledore arrived on Privet Drive in a silent wisp of smoke, the crickets chirped in the cool night air and the moon shone over the quiet residences where not a single person stirred.

Busy rummaging around in his cloak, Dumbledore made his way to the street lamp clad streets at the end of the road. If the man had not been so consumed in darkness one may have noticed the small specs of blood that lay on the bottom of the elder wizards robes and the somewhat messy look of his long beard.

He pulled out something that looked in comparison to a silver lighter and flicked the lid open before extinguishing all the lights in the streets and and bringing them into his little object, snapping the lid tight.

A small meow sounded from behind him and he forced a smile at the dark tabby cat looking up at him through darkly marked eyes.

"I might have known you would be here, Professor McGonagall."

The black tabby that was once sitting silently on the ground began to grow and shape to morph a fully grown woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her greying hair was drawn into a tight bun and a pointed witches hat lay atop her head.

"Albus," She greeted. "I've been waiting for you."

"I presume it was Hagrid who told you of my whereabouts?" He asked silently wanting to kill the large oaf.

"Yes," She said in a constricted voice, the news of the Potters deaths had taken a rather large toll on her and she had been no where near prepared for the news about The Dark Lord.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" She asked.

"I've come to bring Harry to his Aunt and Uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean —you can't mean the people who live here?" She cried, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't! I've been watching them all day. Their vile muggles. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter can't live here!"

"It is what is best for him Minerva, Petunia is Lily's sister, I'm sure it is what she would have wanted"

"B-but they're horrid! Albus he won't be treated the same-"

"Harry deserves to be with his relatives. No body else is capable of taking him."

McGonagall opened and closed her mouth, she knew that Dumbledore had made his decision and there was no changing that.

"Is it true then?" She asked "Harry is alive? The Dark Lord gone - defeated by a mere infant no older than a year?" There was an element of disbelief in her tone "What on earth happened?"

"The Potters were in hiding for weeks." Dumbledore began, his words planned carefully and well rehearsed "They were betrayed by Sirius Black who gave their location away."

McGonagall's face morphed into horror "No," She gasped "that can't be! Sirius...he was their friend. The godfather to their son!"

"Peter saw the dark Mark branded into his skin with his own eyes. He was lucky that he wasn't caught in the murder as well." Dumbledore said and quickly cut in when McGonagall looked although she was about to protest. "You know as well as I do that he was very close with his cousin Minerva. And his family history would certainly have a large influence on his decisions."

"I...just...can't believe it..." McGonagall was at a loss for words. It wasn't true. It couldn't have been. What kind of monster would sell their friend and child? They trusted him.

McGonagall sniffed and wiped her nose "But, how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly having noticed a small tear on the bottom and a smear of dirt very carefully hidden by the folds of his robes

"Hagrid's bringing him." Dumbledore said, unaware of her eyes on him.

"You think it - wise - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" McGonagall quickly changed the subject and averted her eyes.

"Ah professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said McGonagall coldly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A sound of something flying sounded from the sky. Both professors looked up for the source of the noise when a large man on a broom came into view and landed on two ginormous feet on the ground skidding to a halt. His body was the size of a truck and his hands like the paws of a bear, a long beard and scruffy mess of hair surrounded a large face with kind and gentle eyes. Strapped around his body, almost concealed by the bushiness of his beard lay a bundle wrapped in blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that broom?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," The giants voice was a thick Londoners accent. He climbed carefully off the broom as he spoke. "Young Peter Pettigrew lent it to me. I've got him, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - th' house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol. Try not to wake 'im." He added tenderly handing the baby over.

Dumbledore supressed a grimace as the child was laid in his arms. Inside, just visible, was a pale skinned baby boy with jet black hair and a peculiar cut over his forehead as his little eyes lay closed and fast asleep.

"Is that where - ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever. " The wizard turned toward the Dursley's home.

"Could I - could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over the child and gave him a tiny kiss on the head. Suddenly, Hagrid let out a loud wail of despair.

"Shhh!" hissed McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, sniffing loudly. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles-"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Dumbledore whispered harshly.

Hagrid felt a little hurt at the professors cold attitude and McGonagall gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder as she watched Dumbledore carry the baby to the door marked Number Four and laid the child gently on the doorstep, he put a letter inside the blankets and then came back to the other two.

For a while the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook from his low cries and Professor McGonagall blinked back her tears furiously.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid quietly, "I'd best get this broom away. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid jumped back on the broom and kicked off raising high into the air and into the dark of the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall nodded silently in reply and changed back into her cat figure before disappearing into the tree's, her long tail swishing behind her.

Dumbledore waited until she was completely out of sight and far from earshot before he moved back to the sleeping baby. His face grew hard and his eyes narrowed sinisterly as he bared down on the innocent child, almost touching his nose with his face.

The baby, whether by chance, or sensing the mans burning hatred began stirring in the blankets and Dumbledore watched as two little eyes opened.

Those eyes.

He had seen them before. He knew them all too well.

Dumbledore took his wand from his robes and waved it over the boy, muttering quietly until he appeared satisfied with his work on the child.

He exhaled sharply and stood from the house, his elder wand clasped firmly into his hand as he began to make his way down Private Drive.

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks. His robes ruffled in the cold night air as he turned to glance one more time at the child on the doorstep.

He knew that the boy would grow one day to have amazing skills and magic like his father. Such talents could be useful and needed for his ranks. He just hoped to Merlin that he would be easy enough to corrupt.

His eyes raised to the bright moon before he disappeared in an apparition of smoke and fled from Private Drive.

The baby wriggled in his blanket and the scar burned raw on his head. He had no idea of the dark years that would transpire.