Morality of the Young

A/N: Sorry it took me more than a week. I was helping my pop retile the bathroom floor and walls. Well, this chapter focuses on Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore. Like I said earlier (at least I think so) I won't have Dumbledore be that super evil, manipulative bastard that you see in a good amount of fics here. I've always believed that he does have Harry's best interest at hand, but he also thinks that the life of the world is more important than a sole individual's happiness. Oh also, a thanks to Sweet Southern Gal for pointing out that I made Harry a three month old, when he is in fact over a year old.

Chapter 2: Warning Bells

Sirius Black was an impressive man to look at. Standing at 6'4", with shoulder length black hair that framed his angular face, his sharp blue-grey eyes that sizzled with an intensity that few could stand, he was quite the ladies man in his years at Hogwarts. The four years after that had only made him look better, but he had also acquired a dangerous tint to his aura that came from his line of work.

An Auror in the wizarding world, equivalent to the muggle policemen, Sirius' eyes that usually shined with joy and amusement, quickly became as cold as ice, a small sense of well-honed danger exuding off his person. Coupled with his dark, roguishly handsome looks, Sirius appealed to an extraordinary amount of woman who were looking for a good time and the men easily backed off as if he were an alpha male in a wolf pack.

After his stay at Hogwarts was over, Sirius was looking to a very bright future. He could have had practically any woman he wanted, something that he prized greatly, and he was sure to have a very promising career in his job. With his best friend, James Potter, as his partner, they were quickly establishing themselves as some of the top Aurors. Life couldn't have gotten better. And he was right in a way, it only got worse.

In the midst of a war with the vile and vicious Lord Voldemort, people looked at everyone with suspicion. Everyone was suspect in being in league with the dark tosser, especially from the alarm of so many people being put under the Imperious Curse that would take over the victim's mind and make them into a slave for the caster. You couldn't distinguish friend from foe. Sirius was one of the people that was looked down upon with the most suspicion.

Coming from a notoriously dark family, Sirius had separated from them and became the sole outcast of the Black family to be on the firm side of the light. He had been sorted into Gryffindor and made friends with James Potter, son of the most Light-sided family. He had become an Auror, taken an oath to defend the people and the innocent, but it wasn't enough.

He had heard the rumors concerning him. That everything he had done was a lie. He was a spy of the He-who-must-not-be-named and that he only became friends with James so he could find out his weak points. James had spoken out against anybody that dared to just even think that those rumors were true, but it didn't stop them from spreading. A few months after that he had been confronted by Barty Crouch Sr., head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Crouch had wanted Sirius to be the poster-boy of a new campaign that was targeted at the dark families to try and sway them over to the light.

He denied it and Crouch had been suspicious of him ever sense. That led to the start of a new rumor, but he ignored it, his reason for denying being the figure head of the campaign was simple. It drudged up old memories of his family and how they only wanted to use him; how they told all the other dark families that if they weren't firm with their children, they would only get a rebellious adolescent who would fight for the light and forsake the ideals of pureblood society.

It had pained him at first because his parents had spent so much time with him during his childhood. Sure they had arguments over how things should be done, but at the end of the day, they were Blacks and they stuck by each other. That all changed when he became a Gryffindor. His parents had basically disowned him as a son; their words which use to be filled with love had become spiteful. He was coined as a plague in the family and they didn't want him infecting his younger brother's mind.

Driving past the thoughts of his family, Sirius focused on how his best friend and wife had to go into hiding because of something Dumbledore had told them. The first day after they went into hiding, Sirius had gone to visit James and Lily and he saw how afraid they were. It shook him to the core that his fearless friend had suddenly become afraid for his life and his family's. He had become their secret keeper and was glad at the faith they had shown in him.

He only lasted a month before he told them to switch to Peter Pettigrew, another long time friend of his and James. With how dangerous his work was, Sirius could have easily been captured by Voldemort's death eaters and he could have given away the location of James family through means of torture. Persuading them to switch to Peter, Sirius was able to throw himself back into work with renewed vigor. That only lasted one more month.

The air of suspicion had grown too heavy, the rumors too many in number to be ignored. He had been fired from his job a week ago and with James in hiding, there was no one to back him up. With nothing to do for the past week, Sirius had taken to frequenting a muggle bar called "The Dragon's Cove".

No wizards and witches ever stepped into the bar, no rumors to accuse him of betraying the Light; he could just drown his troubles away in alcohol. Reaching the bar, Sirius stopped to admire the neon sign of a dragon belching fire to spell out the name of the bar. Stepping past the wooden door with a brass dragon knocker, Sirius moved into the low lighted bar and sat down on one of the stools at the counter.

Signaling down Charlie the bartender, Sirius ordered a double shot of whiskey, paying more to keep the bottle there. Downing the shot in a smooth, experienced motion, Sirius winced at the slight burn down his throat. Not as powerful as fire whiskey but it got the job done. Looking around the bar, he remembered how in his first time here, he thought it was a wizard bar. The name and the look of the bar only added to his suspicions.

Each table of the bar had an art design of a different wizarding dragon; a Chinese fireball, Hungarian Horntail, several different types of water dragons from the north, etc. Even the walls were covered in runes of different designs and cultures. The entire bar screamed magic, but the owner wasn't a wizard. Every single customer was a muggle; no magic had ever been cast in the bar.

Sirius had this handy talent from one of his Black ancestors that gave the ability to sense if someone was magical or not. It was what led him here in the first place because there was no magical person within miles. He had asked the owner where he got the idea for the bar and he had said that he found this interesting book in the trash bins at King's Cross Station. Loving how each dragon had such detail and that there were detailed pictures in it, he came with the outlook for his bar.

He downed another shot of whiskey, laughing softly to himself at the idea of a muggle holding a book of dragons that came from the wizarding world and that he thought it was just a fictional book. He sobered up when he realized that they would all be acquainted with magic once Voldemort got their hands on them, leaving them quaking in fear.

Sirius jumped when someone appeared in front of him. Looking up into the face of an attractive brunette, with a round face, rosy and luscious lips, and pale blue eyes, Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to articulate something through the alcohol induced haze, "Uum…hello?"

She just grinned, flashing him a mischievous smile, "The names Astrid. I'm Charlie's trainee bartender. What about you?"

Sirius allowed himself a chuckle and a smile, "Well Astrid, the names Sirius. Did you know…that your name means…"star" in Greek?"

She laughed a little and leaned in towards him, giving him a slight view of her impressive cleavage that could be seen from her low cut halter top, "And you're named after the Dog Star constellation. Quite the coincidence, huh?"

Lifting his gaze from her ample bosom, Sirius stared into her eyes and answered smoothly, well as smoothly as one can when under the influence, "Well my pretty star,…it is quite the coincidence," He flashed her a roguish grin, "and a very nice one at that."

"I've seen you here for the past week, always ordering a double shot of whiskey, then paying to keep the bottle, and you chug away at that thing like your life depended on it. What's the problem, Mr. Puppy?"

He gave a bark of a laugh like his namesake and answered, "Do bartenders always chat up their customers?"

She gave him another impish smile, but her eyes flashed lightly, "Don't you know that it's the Bartender's Oath to see what's wrong with our customers' lives? We are required to give them sound advice to keep them going through the day. So what's the problem?"

His laughter dried up and he replied somberly, "I lost my job, my friend and his family are being chased by a murderer and I can't do a damn thing to help them.

Astrid gave him a concerned look, "Sucks to be you, Mr. Puppy. You know the guy who's going after your friends?"

"Yeah, I know him. We almost had him one time too. We had him surrounded with fifty guys and he cut us down like nothing. We had to bury forty comrades that week."

She gave him a horrified look, "Forty cops? This one maniac took out forty cops? What the hell, does this guy have some magical powers or something?"

He wanted to laugh for her hitting it right on the nose, but he couldn't confirm her words. He didn't bother to correct her assumption that he was a cop, in a way he used to be. He answered, "Something like that. He gets away every time."

"What about your friend? He being chased by the same person?" Seeing Sirius nod, Astrid rambled on, "What did your buddy do to get this guy chasing after him?"

"Me and James were becoming the best in the biz. We had managed to chase him down a couple of times, but it was always James that got to him. James has been the one that's been able to take the guy out of commission for a couple of weeks at a time. The murderer though, started to seek James out personally. James just had a kid, so he left the force and went into hiding with his wife."

Astrid placed a hand on Sirius cheek, her fingertips brushing the week's worth of stubble. Sirius reined in the impulse to nuzzle her palm. "They'll be all right, Sirius."

He looked up at her and saw real concern swimming in her pale blue eyes. "I hope so. I wouldn't want to see anything happen to them or my godson—" Sirius stopped talking, his eyes widening in horror as he felt the alarms ringing in his head, signifying that someone had broken into James' home. Having placed several wards on James' home, Sirius felt each one shatter into pieces as someone made their way to the property.

Astrid pulled back as Sirius jumped up from his seat and ran out the door, muttering the names of his friend, his friend's wife, and whom she assumed to be their child, his godson.


Remus Lupin sat in the den of his small cottage in Wales. He was sitting down on a leather chair that had been his grandfathers, his chest bared, his legs covered by his flannel bottoms, rolling the glass bottle of Ogden's finest Fire whiskey between his hands. Staring into the blazing fire of the hearth, Remus let the warmth of the flames seep through his weary body.

Raising the decanter to his lips, Remus took a heavy drink from the bottle, coughing violently as the coarse liquid burned down his throat. Remus was not a heavy drinker, only having tasted Fire whiskey twice, both of those times only being one tiny glass. Tonight however, he was drinking heavily from the bottle, recent turn of events making his life a living hell.

Setting down the large beaker-like bottle in between his legs, Remus ran his calloused fingers through his sandy-colored hair, a few of them a premature grey, as his thoughts wandered to his friends. Things between the Marauders had grown tense. With news of a spy in their network, the friends had become suspicious of each other. It had cut Remus deep when he had heard that he was one of the prime suspects. All they had to go on was that the person was close to James, leaving just him, Sirius and Peter as the possible suspects.

There was no suspicion on Peter for he was far too timid and the general consensus was that he was too much of a stumbling and clumsy person to be a useful spy. Sirius was a possible candidate. Coming from a dark family, known for their pureblood ideals that coincided with Voldemort, people speculated that he had never really turned from his family.

Remus had never believed that Sirius could be the spy. Sirius had always held himself to different ideals than those of his family. He had fought against them numerous times on the battlefield, in particular his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. Him, Sirius, and James, had been through thick and thin, helping each other whenever they needed it.

To say he was stunned when Sirius accused him of being the spy was an understatement. It had ripped through him that Sirius, a brother in all but blood, accused him of betraying his friends. His reason being that Remus was a dark creature, a werewolf, and that Voldemort had offered him sanctuary and riches for turning death eater.

Remus ran his fingers down his chest, through the numerous scars that littered his young body. Each one had been gained during the transformation, save a few that came from fighting death eaters. He circled a bite mark on his side that came from Sirius during one of his more dangerous transformation when Sirius and James had to subdue him. Did Sirius just forget all they had been through? Remus couldn't wrap his head around the Sirius' way of thinking.

He had gone to James at Godric's Hollow seeking some insight into what Sirius was thinking. James had opened the door, slowly, wary of who could be calling at the hour. Seeking to reassure him, Remus called him out by his Marauder name. James stepped out, his wand held at his side, ready at a moment's notice to fire a spell. Becoming tense, Remus asked James if he thought he was the spy. James had told him that he didn't know and that he, Remus, should just leave. With the full moon only two days away at the time, Remus' wolfish tendencies were more visible and he snarled at James for his ignorance in not believing that he was not the spy.

His action just proved to him how much of a monster he was. James had raised his wand, leveling it between his eyes and told him forcefully to leave, citing that he couldn't have a werewolf near his wife and son. James had immediately realized the damage of his words, but it was too late. The damage dealt, Remus left with an angry stride, reaching the end of the wards and apparated away.

Remus gave an angry shout and threw his half empty bottle of Ogden's into the hearth, the fire blazing upwards, the heat rising as the alcohol was consumed by the hungry flames. Running his hands down his face, Remus sighed heavily, unable to believe how horrible his life had become. He should have expected it really.

At the tender age of 4, he had left the security of his home during the night of a full moon. He remembered going through the forest near his childhood home, looking for any animals that were hungry or lost. He soon found himself falling in that category. Losing track of time, Remus started to run back in the general direction of his home, when he heard the howl of a wolf in the distance. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, tears streaking down his cheeks in fear of the hungry animal in the distance.

When he reached the edge of the forest he breathed a sigh of relief before he was tackled to the ground, a large pair of fangs sinking into his right shoulder blade. He cried out in pain as he felt the fangs break his skin. His father had rushed out at his yell and chased away the werewolf. He remembered the sandalwood scent of his father cradling him in his arms, the familiarity and safety of his father's arms, calming him down. From that point on, he didn't expect anything from his life.

He thought that had changed when he met his friends. Brash and arrogant they approached him, trying to make him their friend. They had broken through the shy shell that he had around him and he would become just as devious as them when he was in their presence. Their friendship only became stronger, their ties turning to steel, as they found out his secret and saw the person behind the wolf, not the savage monster.

He had come close to crying from happiness when they all became animagus in order to spend time with him during the full moon. He had gained a pack; albeit a strange one, but he had a pack nonetheless to keep him in check should the wolf ever try to harm others. Then when James son, Harry had been born, Remus had never been happier to be introduced as an honorary uncle to young Harry. He had a family again, his parents and grandparents having passed away during the war and during his stay at Hogwarts. He felt wanted and he felt that his life was truly looking bright.

And then, just like so many other things in the war, it had been taken away. His friends had grown wary of him; werewolves were being harassed more than ever, it was typically impossible for him to get a steady paying job. He was startled from his dark thoughts when he heard a howl in the distance. The first thought in his mind was that a full moon wasn't for two days, and then he placed where the sound had come from.

His personal wards that he had placed on his friend's home during their first day of hiding. They had been breached. Rushing to grab his wand, not even bothering to put on a shirt or even footwear, Remus turned on the spot and apparated away to Godric's Hollow.


Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts for 30 years, Leader of the Light since 1945, the year he defeated the Dark Lord Grindewald, sat behind his desk in his ritzy leather chair complete with wooden armrests and an attached footrest, his long, graceful fingers steeped together under his chin.

Tonight he wore a set of robes his great-grandfather, Brian Dumbledore, for whom he was named after, had left him as a parting gift before he left for the next great adventure. They were a deep, dark blue, the color of the celestial sky. Numerous stars glittered along the robes, comets and falling stars adorning the sleeves of the robes, a large crescent moon on the back of them.

Dropping his hand, Albus ran his fingers along the rim of his pensieve, tracing the various runes that were engraved along the bowl. Each rune had been added by a member of his family, a previous owner of the very bowl, each one putting their own protection on the memories contained within. If he wanted, he could merely tap a certain rune on the bowl, whisper a key phrase and the memories held within the pensieve would change to the memories of the person who had engraved the rune that he had tapped.

It was the most treasured item in the Dumbledore line, a way to preserve the spirit and life of the family and for the heirs to learn from the mistakes of their elders. Albus had lost count of how many times he, had looked upon the actions of his families, seeking guidance and counsel in his life.

Sighing, Dumbledore tapped the latest rune and whispered, "A lone candle shall hold the dark at bay." The rune glowed in a fiery blue, lighting up the rest of the bowl. The silvery liquid essence of the bowl gained a bluish tint, signifying that the memories had changed. Dipping his head towards the bowl, Dumbledore was sucked into the memory of his wedding day from his father's eyes.

The year was 1910, January 1st, the dawn of the new year. Current Albus looked at his father, Marcus Albric Dumbledore, the strong and powerful man from whom he had inherited the long silvery beard and his jovial nature. He was wearing robes that were the opposite to the ones that current Albus wore, the sun and cloudless skies decorating the robes that his father wore.

Following his fathers gaze, Albus looked at the couple at the head of the ceremony. His younger self was there, auburn hair let loose, ending at his shoulders, a crisp beard in the same auburn color adorning his face along with the widest smile that he ever remembered having. He was holding hands with his soon to be wife at the time, Illiana.

With long honey-colored hair and the forest green eyes, she was a sight to behold. Her cheeks were round and plump, her eyes wide and holding the innocence akin to a child, she was his anchor and refuge during the war against Grindewald. He would come home, bathed in the blood of his enemies that he had been forced to kill, and she would just soothe his troubles away. She was so innocent that he strived to protect her, to have her live in a world without war.

He saw his younger self, tears of joy streaking down his cheeks as the ceremony ended and he kissed Illiana. He chuckled to himself when Illiana threw her arms around his younger version, turning the chaste kiss into a more passionate one. He turned to his father to see him laughing boisterously amidst the catcalls and loud whistles. Pulling himself back from the memory, Albus settled back in his chair, one of the birthday gifts he had received from his wife.

Putting his head in his hands, Albus let the memory of her death wash over him. He had been captured by Grindewald personally, put into the lowest dungeons of his castle, chained to the wall, as Grindewald's Walpurgis Knights tortured him. They tried every single method that they could come up with, but Albus never faltered, never revealed any crucial information to the war effort. Nothing they had done could break him.

It was on the day of June 6, 1945, the break of dawn that Grindewald came strolling into the torture chamber. Albus steeled himself, ready for any assault that his foe planned to use. His body was shook to the core, when Illiana was dragged in to the chamber by her hair, and then dumped unceremoniously at his feet. In exchange for his wife's life, Albus would just have to give all the information that Grindewald wanted.

Albus gave it without a seconds hesitation, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, it's members, where they lived, their plans for future attacks. He gave them everything they knew. Albus had sighed with relief when Grindewald seemed please. He had spoken for his wife to be freed and her life spared. Grindewald only stared into his eyes, smiling grimly before he lifted Illiana's head by her hair, baring her neck, and then with a silver dagger with the hilt of a coiling dragon, he sliced her neck from her side to side, cutting through the sinew and bone.

Rage flooded his senses at seeing his wife, gurgling, her blood spewing from her neck and mouth as she tried to cry for help. Helpless, he watched her fall face first into a pool of her own blood. Looking up at Grindewald, Albus saw him smiling maniacally which only served to further his rage. With nothing to live for and nothing to hold him back, Albus let loose with all of his magic.

He remembered vividly the battle between them. Without his wand and stave, Albus had flung raw, wild magic straight from his hands aiming to destroy his foe. He remembered the sheer terror on Grindewald's face, the fear as he faced him without any restrictions. Grindewald had carelessly summoned his followers into the direction of Albus' magical blasts, they only served as cannon fodder as they were either torn asunder or thrown to the barristers of the castle, breaking their bodies in half.

They had come to a halt at the center of the castle, each of them situated at one end of the emblem of the Walpurgis Knights. Albus was standing on the tip of spiked tail of the dragon, with Grindewald standing at its head. A baleful gaze locked onto a fearful one, Albus blue eyes glowing with a stormy light that made them the color of cyan. With a shout of his wife's name, he spread his arms wide, summoning his magic to him and then flung it at his foe, watching as he was turned to dust before his very eyes, the ashes themselves burning away to nothingness.

His children and brother had found him in the remains of the castle, cradling Illiana's body to his chest, silently crying as he uttered sweet nothings into her ear. After the war, his children went overseas to America, unable to be in the homeland where there mother had died, claiming that everything reminded them of her. He saw them off with his best wishes, knowing full well their pain. His brother had remained by his side, taking ownership of the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade in order to keep a close on him.

Shaking his head slowly to dispel the melancholy thoughts, Albus took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. Occupied with the vestiges of his memories, he did not hear the knocking at his door, his head still cast down as Minerva McGonagall entered into his office.

He could sense that she was on the surge of a rant, no doubt concerning something over the Slytherins and her Gryffindors, but she spoke no words. He looked up and in a slow, tired motion, replaced the crescent shaped glasses onto the bridge of his nose.

"Minerva my dear, what brings you into my office at this late hour?"

From the light sided McGonagall family, Minerva was one of the greatest fighters the light ever had to offer. Creative and ingenious with her usage of transfiguration, she was a storm that rolled across the battlefield in these dark times. In fits of anger, her clipped Scottish brogue would come through her accent and her forest eyes would darken. She reminded him in so many ways of Illiana, but she was also in many ways different. While Illiana was gentle and soothing and at sometimes harsh when necessary, Minerva was the exact opposite in disposition.

"Nothing of much importance, Albus, just a detention that I had to go over with you. Are you well, Albus?"

"I am fine my dear. I was merely dwelling on my past and the demons that are in them."

They fell into a companionable silence after that, sipping cups of Earl Grey, Albus' favorite tea. He offered her a lemon drop, but she refused like everyone else did. She took the biscuit that he offered instead. They covered topics concerning the school and its students, the shining stars on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and other various things. Topics soon strayed to the war.

"Albus." He lifted his head at her worried tone. Looking into eyes that reminded him so much of his wife, he beckoned for her to continue, "Will it end soon?"

Recalling the words of the prophecy that he had heard from Sybil Trelawney, Albus nodded his head and spoke in a soothing tone, "I am not sure if the war will be over within the year, but it will end. I am sure of it." His thoughts strayed to the raven-haired child with emerald eyes brighter than Illiana's. He was there at the birth of James Potter's child and he remembered a lone tear falling down his cheek as James introduced him to young Harry as an honorary grandfather.

The child had looked up at him inquisitively for one so young, shouted happily and grabbed the bottom of his long, silvery beard with a childish giggle. He also remembered Lily Potter introducing Minerva as Harry's grandmother. He recalled the instant that when that happened, Minerva took Harry into her arms, her face softening.

He felt a hand resting on his arm, the weathered fingers curling around his elbow. Looking up at Minerva's worried face, he answered, "Just thinking of my honorary grandson, or more specifically, our grandson."

"Ah, yes. He does seep into your thoughts from time to time, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he truly is an extraordinary child." Albus had been holding Harry, when the child's aura became visible for just a moment. He could only describe it as pure magic, the aura a startling white, singing the benevolent power that the child held, rolling around his body like waves crashing against each other in the sea. Albus had merely dropped him from the power that he felt.

"Any word from the Potters, Albus?"

Not missing the concerned tone that his usually stern Transfiguration teacher spoke in, Albus soothed her worries, "I had received a message from the several weeks ago. They are currently well and it seems that Harry is coming into his own, already displaying bouts of intentional magic."

"Intentional magic?! In one so young, Albus?"

"Yes, it seems that Harry wished to have his favorite teddy bear, or in this case his favorite grim-like dog, and summoned him intentionally in order so he can sleep."

"Why Albus, that is remarkable! Are you sure that it was not accidental magic?"

"No Minerva, it was purely intentional. You do recall Sirius' animagus form, correct?" Receiving a nod, he continued, "Sirius had been playing with Harry in his animagus form when Harry became tired. Sirius had transformed back but Harry began to cry. All of a sudden there was a flash of light and Sirius reverted back to his animagus form. After that, Harry had cuddled up into Sirius and slept peacefully. Sirius could not transform back for two days after that event."

Minerva laughed boisterously at Harry's little show of magic, "I take it that Sirius learned how to be in touch with his animal side?"

Before Albus could reply, several instruments on his desk began to activate. The first was a silver pendulum that usually swung to and fro at a sedate pace had begun to swing faster, a sharp whistling cutting through the silence in the office as it swung back and forth, faster and faster. It stopped in its tracks at mid-swing and broke apart. The wards that repelled visitors had been destroyed.

The second was a mirror placed on a pedestal. The mirror began to spin wildly on its axis, an image forming on the reflecting surface. An image of a skull with a snake protruding through its open mouth, shone clearly. The Dark Mark. The symbol of Lord Voldemort's followers. Having taught Lord Voldemort when he was a student at Hogwarts by the name of Tom Riddle, Albus had become intimately known with the signature of his magic and had cast a series of wards that would resonate with his instruments should Tom himself ever show at Godric's Hollow.

"Minerva, go to the hospital wing and inform Poppy to be ready for several patients. Make sure that she has her full stock of potions ready."

"Albus, what is the matter? Has something happened?"

She looked at Albus as he rose to his full height, his back and shoulders straight, his jovial eyes gaining that cold look that he assumed on the battlefield. His aura permeated the room, filling her with a sense of awe.

"It is as I feared, Minerva. The Potters are under attack by Lord Voldemort." And with that he stepped through the hearth, presumably to the Three Broomsticks in order to get past the Anti-Apparition wards at Hogwarts, making his way towards the Potters.


Sirius arrived at the edge of the wards, dread filling his stomach as he looked at the home of his best friend. Surveying the scene, he saw the wreckage of a battle, splinters of wood lying along the grass, cracked earth, pellets of rock, the grass burned from magical backlash. Running towards the house and stumbling along the wreckage of the battle, he cried out for his friends, for his family.

"JAMES!! LILY!!!" Sirius turned sharply when he heard his own name being called. He looked to see a raging Remus, the full moon being two days away, running up to him at full speed. Before he could say anything, he felt a fist collide with the side of his head, knocking him down to the ground.

Pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, Remus snarled at Sirius, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THEM?!! He aimed his wand at Sirius, nearly poking him in the eye.

"We changed secret keepers. It was Peter." Sirius ran his tongue over his split lip, tasting blood. Spitting it to the side, he looked back at his friend, "We have to see if anyone's alive. We have to look for James, Lily, and Harry. We'll settle this later, but we need to look for our family right now."

Standing up on his two feet, Remus kept his wand trained on Sirius, "I don't trust you, Sirius. Not right now, after this attack and after the accusations you've thrown at me. But we need to find them. We'll settle this later."

Sirius stood on his feet and nodded stoically at Remus. Turning back to the house, he kept his wand parallel to his body, the point of the wand tipping slightly; ready to cast shield or hex. Reaching the front porch, they looked at the scorch marks and the hoof-prints that cracked the wooden floor. They looked at each other and thought the same thing. Prongs, James animagus form of a stag had stepped out, probably barreling through Voldemort.

Sensing another magical presence behind him, Sirius turned and fired a powered up version of the net charm taught to Aurors. He watched as a metal net of woven steel, flew out of his wand, coming into contact with a silver colored shield before it was repelled away. He saw another curse headed towards the unknown person from Remus which was reflected as well. He had bone-breaking hex on his lips before he heard the strong, omniscient voice of Dumbledore.

"Show yourselves." Hastily obeying the command lest he be attacked by Dumbledore, Sirius cast a lighting charm to show his face. He saw another light source out of the corner of his eye, telling him that Remus was doing the same.

Dumbledore strolled towards them with slow steady walks, making sure that his power rolled off him in waves, spreading along the grounds. Training his the end of his wand at Remus and the tip of his stave at Sirius, he spoke in calm voice that belied his frantic emotions, "Would you care to explain what you two are doing here?"

"I put up personal wards around the house to tell me if something should happen to them," said Sirius.

"I did the same. They went off in my head about two minutes ago," said Remus.

"This is very troubling indeed, Sirius. You are a known friend of James and it is probable that you would put your own series of wards in order to be sure that they were tucked safe and sound. However, you are the secret keeper and only you can divulge the location. I know for a fact that Lord Voldemort has been here tonight. Would you care to explain?" Albus moved his wand slightly to the left, in between the two pranksters.

Sirius snarled at him, "We switched two weeks ago to Peter. He's the secret keeper not me. I'll clear this up later and I'll take veritaserum to prove it to you, but right now we have to find our friends."

Sending a light brush of legillimency towards Sirius, he picked up the honesty and conviction in the young wizards voice, "Wands about gentleman. I do not know if Voldemort is still on the premises or if he arrived with his followers." Beckoning them to follow him, Albus strolled into the house, stave held diagonally in front of his body, wand held at his left side.

He visibly cringed as he felt the dark magic permeating the air, filling it with a foul and retched stink similar to the rotting corpse of an inferi. The night was silent, not a sound stirring except the slow and steady footsteps from him and his charges. Albus swept his eyes across the room, noting the blood stains on the wall and the indent of said wall, the broken furniture sprawled across the room. Coming across the sight of James Potter, he heard Sirius yell.

"James!" Sirius rushed forward and knelt down next to his longtime friend. Placing his ear on his chest, he relaxed when he heard the beating of his heart. He held his hand in front of him and tapped out the beating of his heart. It was too slow. "Albus, James' heart is beating too slow.

Albus swept forwards and ran his stave over James prone body, murmuring a diagnostic charm. Receiving nothing in return, he began a long string in Latin that would show any mental or physical curses or hexes placed on the body. James glowed a dark purple confirming that he was in a magical induce coma, one that would pray on the subconscious fears of the victim and put them through an endless real of horror.

"He is alive, but we must get him to Madame Promfrey. Sirius, Remus, stay here with James. Stay vigilant for any death eaters that may be lurking about." Taking slow and cautious steps up the stairs, Albus held his breath as the stink of dark magic grew steadily worse. Reaching the upstairs landing, he had to hold back his hacking coughs as the oppressive magic pressed down on his senses. Stepping towards the nursery, Albus hones in on the small cone of light magic that had bled into the darkness.

Waving his wand and stave in a figure eight pattern and chanting in German, Albus dispelled the remaining vestiges of the foul magic, clearing the air, allowing him to take deep steady breaths. His feet shuffling forward, the floorboards creaked as he walked along the wooden floor. Pushing the door open with the butt of his stave, Albus moved in cautiously, a wide-ranged stunning charm on his frayed and chapped lips.

There was nothing, neither the sound of a person breathing, nor the crying of a child. Fearing the worst, he rushed forward to find the body of Lily with what appeared to be a panther resting on her chest. He was ready to cast a charm to move the panther when it's eyes opened, revealing the bright emeralds of his surrogate grandson.

Setting up detection wards around the room, Albus kneeled down in front of Harry, the usually active child, solemn with his cheeks wet, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Everything shall be all right, little one," said Albus in his calm and grandfatherly voice. Dropping wand and stave, he opened his arms and allowed Harry to rush into them. Cradling him to his chest, he felt Harry grab a fistful of his robes with his pudgy hands, his body racking with silent sobs. Picking up his stave and repeating the incantation he had used on James, Lily lit up in a dark purple, confirming that she was the victim of the same spell that had hit James.

Turning to the extremely intelligent child, Albus spoke, "Harry, did the snake-man come?"

"Scawy. Wight there." Pointing a finger towards the crib itself, Albus let his mage sight come into play. An ability of the Dumbledore line, it allowed them to see any remaining magic that may linger in an area. A dark patch of black mist formed at the front of the crib, a mirror to Tom's magical signature. All that was left were his robes, his wand either misplaced somewhere in the room or a possible follower had taken it.

Standing up to his impressive 6'7" height, Albus conjured a stretcher and levitated Lily onto it. Making sure that Harry was secure and placing a sticking charm onto the part of the robe that the boy had an impressive grip, he levitated the stretcher and walked down the stairs, Lily trailing behind him. Seeing the mournful faces of Sirius and Remus, he assured them that Lily was indeed alive; she had only been placed under the same spell as James.

Sirius pulled out a stuffed toy, that of a stag, and held it out to Dumbledore. After changing it into a portkey, he conjured another stretcher for James and placed him onto it as well. Making sure that everyone had a hold of the stuffed stag and that the Potters were secure, Albus whispered, "Savior." The tell-tale pull of the navel and the party was sucked into a cone of illuminating colors, traveling through to land at the edge of Hogsmeade.

Moving swiftly into the Three Broomsticks, the party ignored the shouts of Madame Rosmerta, the proprietor of the bar, and stepped through the green flames of the hearth, landing in the infirmary at Hogwarts. Shouting for Poppy, Albus placed James and Lily onto separate beds.

Seeing Minerva emerge from the medicinal pantry that held all the potions along with Madame Promfrey, he handed young Harry over to her, watching as her face lined with worry ease at holding the child.

Pulling back the hood of Harry's booty, she ran her hand down his face, trying to seek some reassurance that he was well. Turning to Albus, Minerva locked her forest eyes onto his sapphire colored eyes, devoid of their twinkle, "Albus…Lily, is she…alive?"

"Yes, Minerva, she is alive. Her and James have merely been placed under a dark variant of the concussion hex. With proper care, they shall awake within a day's time."

"And You-know-who? Was he really there?"

Albus nodded solemnly, but he also had a small smile, his eyes twinkling slightly, "He was. And it seems that Harry," he pointed to the child who was asleep, nestled in her arms, "has defeated Lord Voldemort." Moving towards Minerva and Harry, Albus brushed back the light fringe covering the child's forehead, revealing a lighting bolt shaped scar. Tracing the scar lightly so as not to wake the child, Albus unveiled his mage sight and saw the remnants of the killing curse, a shadowy echo forming from the scar.

Feeling a hand placed on his forearm, Albus looked up into Minerva's inquiring gaze, "A child, Albus? A child has defeated the darkest lord since Grindewald? Our grandson has done what you could not?"

Smiling benignly at his grandson, Albus spoke in a hushed whisper, "Yes. He has succeeded where so many others have failed. Tomorrow the entire wizarding world shall be aware of their savior. Harry will be looked upon with reverent stares and his name shall be spoken in all corners of the British Isles and quite possibly anywhere else where the name of Lord Voldemort has been whispered in fear."

Taking Harry out of Minerva's arms, Albus held him close to his chest and turned to see the occupied beds in the hospital wing. James and Lily had been placed side by side, their hair fanned out along the pillows, the crisp and clean hospital sheets covering their bodies up to their chest. Sirius and Remus sat at the ends of their conjoined beds, looking on at their closest friends, their family.

Looking back at Harry as he drifted off to sleep, Albus sighed inwardly, tears pooling in his eyes that were hidden by his glasses, contemplating what he was about to do in order to protect Harry and quite possibly the rest of the world. The prophecy continued to ring in his head; Harry had been marked by Tom and there was a small sense of Tom's magic stemming from Harry's scar.

In his bones, Albus knew that Tom was still alive, probably wandering the earth in a spirit form, devoid of his magic. Half of the prophecy had come to fruition, but it was still not done. This child needed to be safe, needed to be away from the hounds that were reporters and all the people who wished for his death. There were too many followers of Tom's that had sway in the political world and Albus knew that they would be free members of society.

They would hunt this child and attempt to kill him at any opportunity. Albus couldn't let this happen. Albus would keep Harry safe from those who wished him a bodily death. Sitting down in one of the hospital chairs, Albus went over the plan for Harry's safety in his head, the main idea clear in his mind. Harry would have to be away from the wizarding world, he would have to live as a muggle with no knowledge of his world.

With no knowledge of magic, the chances of Harry doing anything to attract attention to him would decrease greatly. Also, the majority of the death eaters were high status purebloods who sniffed in disdain at the mere word of muggle. They would never think to look for the destroyer of their master in the muggle world.

Albus could only think of one place where Harry would be safe. That place lied within the home of a blood relative. James had no one left on his side of the family, but Lily did. Albus would have to contact Petunia Evans, or Dursely he supposed, but first he would have to run his plan by James and Lily. He also could not forget that Sirius and Remus would be just as protective of Harry. Albus deemed to include them in on the conversation, along with Minerva who was also a part of their ragtag family.

Covering Harry with a small blanket, Albus ceased his thinking for the night and merely watched on as his new family huddled around each other to offer protection and love.

A/N: Well there you go, folks! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the various perspectives.

I changed little things about Sirius past, mainly how his parents had actually loved him before he was put into Gryffindor. I don't know about that thing with the Barty Crouch campaign. Not sure if it was mentioned in canon, but it seemed as something plausible that would happen during the time.

Also, I loved working on Albus' past. It is never mentioned and I always wondered what the runes on his pensieve were for. SO, I came up with a neat little trick for it that I haven't seen in any other fic.

Now, I want to make this very clear. This story is based on the moral choices behind everybody. And I mean everybody. The Potters, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, the Malfoys (whom I plan on introducing in the next chapter with their own perspective), and anybody else that I see fit to put in this story. Each of their actions will be driven by something; a desire to be better than their family, to protect their family, to be safe and secure in their home, to protect the world at all costs. It is important that you know this, no one will be truly evil, not even Voldemort. Well he'll be a little evil, but he does what he does because of actions that I will explain when I finally get to him, which is a long way away.