A/N: This is my first fan-fic. I have been an ardent lover of HP fan-fics and I decided to write my own. I hope that although this first chapter is very short, you will take time to read it and give me your opinion. If I get more than 5 reviews, good or bad (within a week) – I will continue writing this – I have 7 books planned. Pleas R&R, criticism is appreciated.

Disclaimer: I wish Harry Potter belonged to me. But it doesn't. It belongs to J.K. Rowling and all these characters are hers. :(

Prologue

Albus Dumbledore flipped through the large assortment of letters on his elegant mahogany desk, peering through his half-moon glasses, a bemused expression on his weary face. "Dedalus? Surely not?" he mused, a small twinkle appearing in his eyes as he surveyed the letter in his hand. As he made to open it however, the presence of a woman adorned entirely in flowing robes of emerald green standing at the threshold to the entrance of his study, cause him to abandon the task which seemed to amuse him.

"Ah! Minerva, why the gloomy face? Surely now is a time to let down your hair and be merry? I hear Professor Flitwick is having a party in the Great Hall--" Albus started by way of greeting, smiling, but stopping, when he saw the stern look of disapproval on her face.

"So you're saying it's true then, Albus? He-he's gone?"

Dumbledore nodded, "The evidence would clearly suggest so."

"Heavens! S-so James and … Lily, are they – are they d-ead?" she asked, clutching at her chest and gasping when Dumbledore bowed his head in reverence."And- and their son, Harry?"

"Alive – but from what I hear, scarred. Hagrid should be here with him any minute now." Dumbledore continued a look of remorse on his face.

"But how Albus? After all the things he's done, he couldn't kill a little boy? Surely it cannot be?" And are you sure that Hagrid should be trusted with such a delicate task? After all Dumbledore, a baby is not a threstal or a manticore?"

"We can only guess what happened, Minerva. But Hagrid – I would trust Hagrid with my life. But now - let us put our doubts aside and get to the matter at hand." he replied waving her over to his desk.

"Surely Albus, you are no longer considering to send him to his relatives? I've seen them-" she paused as she saw the pile of post on the desk.

"All, parents or families, rather. Willing to take Harry in. Even Mundungus and Dedalus have volunteered although I do not consider them valid candidates, of course. As his legal guardian in the wizarding world, I can choose either to adopt him myself, or give him up to a foster family. I certainly cannot adopt him – I am far too old to be rewarded with such a great treasure – instead I have to make a decision as to who should be valid enough to earn the right to this handsome baby. It would seem that a great wizard as myself -please excuse me – is stumped when it comes to making a decision about a certain one – year old."

"So have you made a decision?"

"I believe so, but whether the decision is accurate or not is another matter. It was a difficult decision to make..."

"Are you really sure of this Albus?" inquired the mother anxiously. "Not that we don't want him , of course – it would be wonderful, actually – but surely, there were... erm... better families?"

"If you are indeed talking of it in terms of gold, I would agree. But what is more important than money is love. And you are surely them most lovable mother I know – and pardon me – but your excellent cooking also had to do with the decision."

Somewhat flustered, the mother continued, "But, how-ever will we support him? We are quite thin out as it is... and another-"

"Fortunately that is not something to be worried about. The Potters were not about to let their own son go penniless. A significant portion of gold will flow into your account throughout the year for Harry's purposes and when he grows older his own account will be accessible. Not to worry though, his account will have a steady income from his parents' accounts as well. All of this was of course in Lily's will. She had apparently though about what would happen to Harry in case their secrecy should fail.

"But when do you think it would be good to tell him of all this?" spoke up the father for the first time.

"That will be your decision," Albus replied standing up form his cozy armchair by the fireplace. "I really must leave now. I have trespassed my stay quite long enough. I will drop by tomorrow with Harry. Madam Pomfrey is looking after him at the moment."

"What on earth will people say?" the mother asked clutching at her heart.

"That does not matter, Molly. All that matters is that soon, Harry Potter will be... Harry Weasley."

Far away, in a great magnificent looking castle, a lone boy woke up and started crying, a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, the color of dried blood. Little did this one-year old know that all across the country, wizards were meeting in secret and toasting to "Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived."