If there is something you recognize as someone else's, then it belongs to them. If not or you're not sure, it could just belong to the Muse of Clichés.

Agencies and Chances

Paladin Grey

Mrs. Petunia Dursley was by all appearances a perfectly normal upstanding woman. She was a devoted wife to a Mr. Vernon Dursley and mother to one Dudley Dursley. She was a member of the Little Widgen Women's League. Her dinner parties were the thing of legend among their neighbors. In fact, the only bit of tarnish on the sterling reputation of Mrs. Dursley was her nephew, Harry James Potter. Potter was the son of her deceased sister, Lily, who died reportedly died in an alcohol related car accident. Petunia took her nephew and provided him with a home. In the opinion of many, the boy was rather queer with eerie green eyes and unruly black hair.

It was a hot day in August when a visitor turned up at Mrs. Dursley's house, a No. 4 Privet Drive. He was young, in his mid twenties, with neat cut blond hair and deep blue eyes. His black suit was crisp, well tailored, with a red and gold patterned tie and pocket square. He was tall, lean, and had an air of importance about him. He knocked on the door. After a moment, Mrs. Dursley came to the door in a neat pale green dress that set off her dark blonde hair and pale eyes. She was pretty in an off sort of way with a long neck and slightly horse-like face. She looked him over for a moment, "Yes?"

The man took a leather wallet from his inside coat pocket. He showed it to her, "My name is Agent . On behalf of her Majesty, I have a few questions to ask you. May I come in?"

Mrs. Dursley looked surprised for a moment before coming to her senses, "Why yes, of course. Welcome Agent Fawkes. Please do come in."

Agent Fawkes nodded his head and walked in. Mrs. Dursley took a look around to see if any of her neighbors had heard or noticed the man. She slammed the door shut.

"Please, do have a seat," Mrs. Dursley said gesturing towards a nice white chair in her rather conservative parlor. Agent Fawkes took a seat. Mrs. Dursley disappeared for a moment into the kitchen before returning with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses with ice. She poured them both a glass and sat down. Agent Fawkes smiled before putting his head in hand for a moment as his other hand reached for the badge in his pocket. He set it on the table and looked at Mrs. Dursley, "As I said, I'm here on behalf of the Queen. As you might have guessed by my accent, I'm not a native."

It was true, Mrs. Dursley couldn't place his accent. She nodded politely for Agent of Fawkes. He did so after a sip of lemonade, "On behalf of the Crown, I deal with matters of an unusual nature."

"Unusual, you say," Mrs. Dursley asked with false interest, her eyes drifting towards the cupboard beneath the stairs. She returned her gaze as Agent Fawkes spoke, "I'm not one of those types. If I may be so bold as to say, many are not pleased with the attitudes of that lot's leaders. However, I am here to discuss your nephew."

"I see," Mrs. Dursley said, her face going pale with fear. One must understand that Mrs. Petunia Dursley was once a Ms. Petunia Evans, a sister of Lily Evans, a witch. Of the many types of magic users, England was home to one of the largest populations of magic users to utilize wands to control their gifts. Lily Evans attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where she earned the reputation as the brightest witch of her generation. She was smart, lovely, talented and the center of attention of those around her. Her gift made Petunia jealous of her and started their estrangement. Yet despite all of Lily's talent, she still ended up dead while Petunia had a home, family, and life. The only trace of her was a trunk and her son, Harry.

Agent Fawkes smiled kindly at her, "If don't mind me asking, how did you come into custody of the boy?"

Agent Fawkes's face darkened at Mrs. Dursley's answer, "Dumbledore left him on my door step with a letter saying I had to take him to keep face from the Dark Vold or someone's minions. I never wanted the boy or anything to do with that element again."

Mrs. Dursley made a disgusted face. Agent Fawkes placed a hand on his badge and said, "Please scan for magics on the property."

The silver badge started to glow slightly, cycling through colors. Agent Fawkes looked up at Mrs. Dursley, "Harry may have been unlawfully forced into your custody. My badge is able to scan and record unnatural occurrences or energies. I'm only able to manipulate heat and fire. I can also see/sense energy. There is something not right with your residence, lovely as it is."

The badge quit glowing. Agent Fawkes lifted the part of the wallet the badge was attached to. It showed a small notebook with a list written below the day's date. Agent Fawkes read through the list before cursing in some language Mrs. Dursley did not understand. He ran a hand through his hair, "Your home has several badly placed security measures placed on it. Your nephew, asleep in the cupboard there, has some severe things on him."

"The boy is ill," Mrs. Dursley said. "He usually gets sick for a day and then is fine the next. If it was serious, I would take him to a doctor."

"He's ignorant of his heritage," Agent Fawkes commented looking towards the cupboard, "but his body isn't. His..abilities are keeping him in a sort of holding pattern. Even by other standards, that isn't normal. I'm afraid the boy will need to see someone."

"Not Dumbledore," Mrs. Dursley said. Agent Fawkes nodded his agreement and raised his watch to his mouth, "Prodigal to base, send Wise with Med Kit."

At the sight of a confused Mrs. Dursley he explained, "Dumbledore has placed certain precautions to detect those like him who enter here. Clever as he is, he didn't know about my organization. We're sanctioned by the Queen and Ministry, and we're recognized by many governments. We keep the line between the everyday and the extraordinary. When certain aspects decided to clothe themselves in secrecy, we came to the governments with the utmost honesty, hope, and humility. And would you believe it, we weren't killed or experimented on."

"Is your organization big," Mrs. Dursley asked, her eyes going towards the cupboard again. Agent Fawkes let out a long low whistle while pulling the lapels of his coat, "We walk among you, we pass by you everyday, and we we're well aware of everything you don't ever wish to know. It is a beautiful, awesome, and frightening reality we face."

"I had hoped that he wouldn't be a part of that element," Mrs. Dursley said clutching white knuckled at her knees. Agent Fawkes patted the top of her hand, "Well, there is hope that he will not up to share the fate of your sister."

"Dumbledore will seek the boy out," Mrs. Dursley said throwing her hands into the air. Agent Fawkes called her name a few times before she stopped her rant and met his gaze. His voice was a calm mellow one as he spoke. Mrs. Dursley noticed that the gold flame like pattern on tie moved as he spoke, "Dumbledore is a resourceful man; that is true. He will seek the boy out for his philosophy of the Greater Good. The world is not as clear cut. The Greater Good is a matter of balance. Dumbledore with his Statute of Secrecy had forgot that. But let me assure you, should you place the boy in my care, he will become a talent to be respected."

Mrs. Dursley snapped out of her trance as three raps sounded at the door. She went to it and opened it. On the other side of the door was a smartly dressed woman with a generous supply of beauty, soft hair, keen eyes, and fully lips. Her pencil skirt and jacket were gray. She held out a white gloved hand, "Mrs. Dursley, my name is Agent Pallas. I believe that I was sent for by Agent Fawkes."

"Why yes, of course, Mrs. Dursley said, "but might I see your Identification?"

Agent Pallas smiled and produced it. Mrs. Dursley nodded before gesturing across the door. Agent Pallas bowed her head as she passed by him. Agent Fawkes stood as Agent Pallas and Mrs. Dursley returned to the room. Agent Pallas took off the gray hat she wore before addressing Agent Fawkes, "Where is the patient?"

"Cupboard under the stairs," Agent Fawkes said with a gestured towards the cupboard that opened to show a small boy sleeping on a cot. Mrs. Dursley cringed under the glare of Agent Pallas, "When he got older, I had hoped to move him from there, but my husband…"

"Mrs. Dursley," Agent Pallas said opening the small clutch purse she carried, "I do not care about excuses. I have a patient to tend to and you have paperwork for Agent Fawkes to assist you with."

Agent Pallas extracted a folder from the small purse and handed it Agent Fawkes, "The Chief wants the boy relocated. The Higher Up's have given their consent for the boy to be adopted into the Agency."

Mrs. Dursley noticed Agent Pallas start to glow white and a warmth washing off of her as she walked towards the cupboard. Agent Fawkes took papers out of the folder and started to mark x's beside specific lines, "Mrs. Dursley, I need you to retrieve all documentation you have on your nephew."

Mrs. Dursley got up and left. A few minutes later, she returned with a handsomely carved cherry box with a lily engraved on it, "He left it one week after the boy. He said that only the boy was able to open it."

"I understand," Agent Fawkes said before handing a silver ball point pen to her. She took it as he explained, "By signing these papers, you transfer all rights and responsibilities related to Harry James Potter to the Agency and its representatives. Also by signing the second set of papers, you and your family qualify for protection should you need it."

The anxious look on Mrs. Dursley's face turned to one of relief as she heard Agent Fawkes's offer of protection. She finished signing the papers. Agent Fawkes looked them over before adding his signature to several lines and tucking them into his breast pocket. He gave her a wry smile, "It would be wise if you told your husband to transfer. I would even suggest moving out of the country, but we defer to your discretion."

"He's asleep," Agent Pallas said while holding out a blood red stone the size of a pence. "I've taken some blood from him for a ward stone. They won't know he's gone until The Dursley's are. I treated him for Scarlet Fever and took several enchantments off of him."

Agent Pallas handed the stone to Mrs. Dursley, "Have it made into a necklace or keep it on your person on a daily basis."

Agent Fawkes stood up and looked at his badge, "Chief just wrote. We need to port out. Is the child stable enough?"

Agent Pallas smiled, "I treated him."

Agent Fawkes smiled back and turned back to Mrs. Dursley with his hand outstretched, "If you need us, you have the needed information with your copy of our agreement. Personally, I hope you never have to see us again."

Agent Pallas nodded politely and walked towards the cupboard as Agent Fawkes picked up the wooden box. Mrs. Dursley watched at Agent Fawkes took from his jacket a pocket watch before picking up the boy. Agent Pallas took his arm.

There was a sudden but brief power outage on Privet Drive one August day. Three weeks later, a moving an was seen leaving No. 4 and with it went all memory of the Dursley's and the strange Potter boy.

--

"Where can the boy be," were the frantic last words of one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump fo the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and master manipulator of a two whole generations of witches and wizards as he questioned the half-giant game keeper he sent to fetch Harry Potter before he was stunned by the four witches and wizards who were Hogwart's Heads of Houses. The long silver mained wizard hit the back of his throne like chair before slumping down in it.

Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor, Gryffindor Head of House, and Deputy Headmistress conjured parchment and a quill. She looked between her colleagues as she drafted a note, "I believe Filius foresaw this."

Filius Flitwick, Charms Professor and Head of Ravenclaw, smiled. The small ancient wizard with a dash of Goblin blood smile wryly from beneath his white mustache, "Too many variables. He knew James Potter, but the four of us knew Lily Evans."

Severus Snape, Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin, let a small smile grace his normally stoic face that was framed by sheets of black hair, "I won't have to teach the spawn of Potter."

Pomona Sprout, Herbology Professor and Head of Hufflepuff, a squat witch with fly away gray hair let out a laugh as she took out her wooden pipe and started to pack it with tobacco, "A Potter just made Severus smile."

McGonagall and Flitwick shared a smile before McGonagall addressing the large scarlet phoenix perched beside Dumbledore's desk who was watching the unfolding scene with interest, "Fawkes, please take this to Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If she consents, please bring her here."

Fawkes took a lap around the room before taking the letter from McGonagall and vanishing in a burst of flame.

Ten years would pass before anyone would show up with information pertaining to Harry Potter. The man was a smartly dressed foreigner who was applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. He was an exceptional candidate who had experience with both Defense and Teaching. His only stipulation was that his apprentice, a willowy boy with long black hair and acid green shaded glasses be allowed to attend Hogwarts. Before Dumbledore could reply, his phoenix curiously landed on the desk before both visitors and trilled several sweet notes which both men whistled back a reply to.