Author's Note: I have participated in reading and occasionally reviewing stories on the FanFiction website. I have been working on this story for a little while and there are no guarantees as to when I will be updating.

I also will not bribe readers to review, mostly because I don't usually do it unless the author is asking for help or suggestion.

-montsky

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the parts that make this story a fanfiction, only the differences and ideas which you have never seen Rowling put forth.

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The sun broke through the clouds, searching for a child. The sun, as well as many of the other ancient beings, had promised him that they'd look after her. It was one of his last requests before leaving. Another was to tell the girl, when she was ready, what her inheritance was. Until then, she had to be kept in the dark—easy for now considering her infancy. But where was she?

She had been sent to a trusted individual, that much the sun had been told. Of course, since he had people he trusted everywhere, it would still take some time.

The sun sent his beams to investigate everyone he could think of, asking the moon to do the same. How could they have lost the child before their duties had even officially started? At length, he thought to check the school, the strange one with the several heads. He sent one of his beams there; then the only thing he could do was wait. Soon enough, the sunbeam came glimmering back.

What news, the sun asked.

We have found her, the beam said; the masters of the school are protecting her and deliberating on what to do with the child. They don't know who she is, only the one who is invisibly wise does.

Did they get the letter?

Yes. They were discussing whether to honor his wishes or not.

He trusted them, and so must we. The sun paused. Something forced him to consider how much he knew about the headmaster of that place. Keep an eye on them. We must know where she is at all times. If you must, trade shifts with a moonbeam.

The sunbeam nodded, then left.

The sun considered for a moment what would become of the child, whether the wishes would be fulfilled or not, but pushed the thoughts away. It wasn't up to him to decide fate; he could only watch and protect for now.

The sun wished the child luck.

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It was some months later before the child's fate was officially decided by the headmaster of the school. In the meantime he had kept her moving from house to house, castle to cottage, until he could find the best way to fulfill the main wish of the letter. He didn't know why he decided to mostly follow the letter, especially considering how he usually created and followed his own design. Perhaps there was a vague familiarity that had prompted him to follow much of the letter; or perhaps it was just the 'last wish' factor, but for some reason, the headmaster had decided to honor it. The problem had been finding a suitable family.

Who would take in a young witch—the headmaster had no doubt she was a witch, for he could feel her magic—without knowing more about the wizarding world than necessary? Since she was going to a family of muggles, should they even know about her magic before she got her letter? He had carefully plotted, deciding on a course of action, aware of how similar his choice was to another he had made recently.

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A grey tabby cat watched through the first floor window of the two-story brick house as the young couple doted on their four-month-old child. The cat watched as the woman glanced out through their white curtains, up at the stars. She turned back to helping her husband coddle their child, unaware of being watched.

Only the cat and the man who would come later knew that the couple's child was likely going to die that night from an unknown malady.

The poor couple had no idea that their daughter was on her deathbed as they laid their baby down in its crib and went to bed themselves in the next room over, leaving the tabby an unseen sentry. Unspoken magic was used to make sure that they would sleep until morning. The cat continued its wait.

Their baby would be replaced with the child the man was to bring, a degenerating glamour placed on her to hide the difference from its adoptive parents. If the sick baby did indeed survive the night then a quick switch would take place again, just before one of the parents came in. The cat knew the headmaster's plan had flaws, but was confidant none of them would come to light between now and in eleven years. If they did, she was sure the headmaster had a fix for them, not to mention her own carefully laid plans.

The cat watched as a man appeared with a crack and started walking calmly towards her, or rather the window she was guarding. The cat leapt off the windowsill, transfiguring into a stern-looking woman as she did. The man didn't pause in his stride; if there was any reaction from him, it was a slight twinkle in his already-smiling eyes.

"I am not surprised to see that you have been watching them," the man said, "and this time you aren't frowning as much."

The stern woman had indeed been frowning to some degree, and it only deepened at this comment. "Albus," she said, "this is twice in the same month. First with the Potter boy and now with this-" she couldn't help but pause here as she didn't know much about the child. "-girl," she finished, waving her hand at the bundle in his arms. "I highly disapprove."

"My dear professor," the man said, "what better than to keep a mother from mourning, or a child from wanting, than this?" He smiled gently.

"Yes, and I suppose this fills all the requirements in the letter, doesn't it," she snapped back. He said nothing to this, only offered her a small candy in avoidance of answering.

"I suppose this is a calming concoction, isn't it," she demanded.

The old man chuckled, "Only a lemon drop, my dear, dear professor." When she still didn't take it, he popped it in his own mouth. He then proceeded to take out his wand and waved it at the window, which opened soundlessly. He then waved it over the bundle, saying "This will ensure that the glamour wears off over time." The lines in the woman's face proceeded to deepen as he climbed in the window in a way unbefitting his age and rank. She kept guard outside the house.

The old man sighed as he switched the babies, realizing that the younger one was already dead. He had hoped he wouldn't be able to find a family where this would work…

"Professor," he said, "it seems as if it will be necessary to change our last stop. We need not try to solve any sickness tonight." His heart was heavy as he said it. When he looked up at the woman, he saw her eyes fixed on something beyond him. He turned. "Also," he added, "it would appear that you need to improve doing magic in your animagus form." He muttered a spell and the father fell to the ground, asleep.

So, I don't know exactly how you wanted me to edit this, so I gave suggestions in comments and only changed one thing in the document (aside from this lovely note). I do want to know where you plan to go with this. Remember what we wrote in my beta profile? That does still hold true! After you've looked it over, if you make any changes, send it to me again. We can do this over and over and over again. I don't mind.