Prophecy of the Deathly Hallows
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Arc One: The Prophecy: Part Two
(Devils)
"It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui." - Helen Keller
The Longbottoms had never gone into hiding, because it was clear from the start that Voldemort was only interested in the Potters' son. Peter Pettigrew, their extremely loyal but easily overlooked Secret Keeper, was pleased to allow his former Headmaster into his friends' home, and Lily and James were equally pleased to receive him.
It was a little unnerving for the elderly wizard to see kind Lily's face so hardened with worry, merry James's dulled into deep seriousness. The only spark of joy in their modest household was in the form of the almost-fourteen-month-old Harry, who ran hither and thither, filled with childish glee. Peter took him to the nursery to watch him while Dumbledore spoke with James and Lily.
"You got my owl, Lily?" He asked, once cordial greetings had been exchanged.
"Yes," she replied, soberly. "I can't say I understand or agree, but," she looked to James for support, and received an encouraging squeeze to the hand which was laced with his, "If you say it is for the best for Harry, we can only agree..."
"It is," Dumbledore urged. "The only way Harry will be able to have any semblance of a normal childhood is for him to grow up without all this looming over him. I do not question your competency," he mollified, "But the best parents in the world couldn't hope to raise a child to be mentally and physically healthy while cooped up in a cottage and unable to interact with people his own age. And with the prophecy business as well - well, he would have so much to cope with that any chance of a normal existence would be forfeit. I only want the best for your son, Lily, James. It's killing me to image how he would feel, knowing from such a young age he has to grow up to be a murderer."
"You're right, of course," James said, "But... You're absolutely certain that Voldemort will not think of looking for Harry at Lily's sister's house? They're muggles, you know, and to him..." James did not voice the fear that he and Lily shared that Petunia and the Dursleys would be massacred, and Harry slaughtered; but Dumbledore could read them well, and understood.
"I myself will ward the house to hide his presence, but James, Lily, you know Voldemort. You know his disgust for all things muggle - had he a child prophesied to defeat his enemy, he would think of the child as a weapon rather than a human being, and would not let his weapon into the hands of those who he despises beyond reason. He would instead hold it close, and sacrifice its human nature. And Voldemort, in the folly of his arrogance, believes all strong and clever people would act as he, we included."
"I already wrote to Petunia, and she agreed to take him in," Lily stated, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so glad that we made up with each other after I graduated from Hogwarts, as she's my only muggle relative left. As it is, though, I have no doubt he'll be in good hands."
James cleared his throat gruffly. "I know you say the sooner the better, but can he spend one last Halloween with us before he goes? Sirius and Remus haven't seen him in weeks, and I'm sure Peter would like to say a formal goodbye as well...?"
"Of course," said Peter's voice from the doorway. It'd changed late, but he now had a booming bass, lower than any of his friends. While still the shortest of the four, his slight, boyish frame spoke of agility with a quiet strength, and since Hogwarts he'd grown out his blonde hair down to his jaw, adding a short, neat beard. At twenty-one, Peter Pettigrew looked more of a man than almost any of his former classmates could have expected. He had recently opened a small clothing store in Diagon Alley, Pettigrew's Fine Attire for All Occasions, where he sold both wizarding and muggle styles. With his half-blood upbringing, he had a fortune waiting to be made in the fashion industry.
"Harry wore himself out, so I came to tell you that I put him to bed," he continued, evenly. "I couldn't help but overhear the end of your conversation. Is Harry really going to live with your sister until he comes to Hogwarts, Lily?" As the first child of any of the Marauders, Peter, along with Remus and Sirius, his godfather, were especially protective of him.
"Will we be able to visit him? Send him owls? Birthday presents?" Peter demanded, fiercely. "Lily, how much can we trust your sister? Petunia, is it? Petunia Dursley?"
"Calm down, Peter," Dumbledore said, soothingly. "Lily has confirmed her trust in her sister. It will, unfortunately, be impossible to communicate with Harry, as doing so might bring Voldemort's attention on him. However, rest assured, he will be in the best hands possible."
"But why can't I take him?" Peter demanded. "Why not Sirius, his godfather, or Remus? Any of us could go somewhere, hide. Heck, all five of us would go muggle if it meant staying with Harry."
Dumbledore sighed in masked frustration. Just when he was swaying the parents to his scheme, the overprotective uncle had to come in and plant the seeds of doubt in their minds.
"You five are some of the most valued fighters in our opposition of Voldemort," he objected. "To lose you five would be to hand Voldemort the Wizarding World on a silver platter. Once he was Minister for Magic, he could pursue and slaughter you at his leisure, using the bast resources of the entire community. Would you want Harry to grow up on the run? Or to not even have the chance to grow up at all? Voldemort knows the prophecy, friends, and he will stop at nothing to take Harry's life."
"Yes, the prophecy," Peter pressed. He was relentless today, seeing that James's and Lily's intrinsic faith in Dumbledore had led them to become resigned to the turn of events. "Why, exactly, can we not hear it? At least the parents of the child of the prophecy? Why must we not heat it, when even our enemies know its words? Why are you so vague?"
The truth of the matter was that Dumbledore was afraid that they would realize his involvement with it. Drawing on decades of sophistical political maneuvering, he played his trump card and hoped it would not fail.
"While you think that knowing the prophecy would assist you, on behalf of the greater good of Harry's whole future you must bow out. I have heard the prophecy, and I realize that with each additional person who hears it, the world - and Harry's life - is put into greater jeopardy. Do you not trust me and my judgement? Would you sacrifice Harry's future for mere curiosity?"
Peter opened his mouth to retort, but was shot down by simultaneous glares from both James and Lily, and shut it again.
"Of course we trust you, Headmaster, and we have no qualms about doing what is best for Harry in the long run," Lily said, determinedly. "Will you come to pick him up on the first of November, then?"
"Yes, and I will take him alone," he forestalled any further questions, "I will draw a lot less attention showing up alone with Harry, than a whole entourage would. I will keep him safe."
"Thank you, Albus, you've done so much for our family," James replied, gratefully. "Knowing that my son will be in such capable hands is a load off my shoulders."