Mistakes Were Made
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Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts
October 20th, 1981
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sat on his desk looking over a stack of parchment of the Wizengamot when the Floo went off signalling someone had arrived. With a flick of his wand, the stack of parchment was filled into one of the cabinets for later, and he turned his attention to his unexpected guest.
He was quite understandably surprised to see the youngest Black sibling stagger out of the fireplace, a look of horror on his young features.
"He's done it now, Albus! I thought he was crazy back in November with those... those Horcruxes! But now, now he wants to kill them!" Regulus said hysterically, staggering over to the desk.
"Take a deep breath, my boy, I'm afraid I don't understand what has got you so worried." Dumbledore admonished, curious more than ever to hear what his spy had to say.
Regulus took a breath and sat down on one of the armchairs in front of the grand desk. He had been a Death Eater since his 6th year attending Hogwarts. He had thought it to be a fine idea at the time, but he couldn't have been more wrong. He had graduated from Hogwarts in 1978 and had gone on to become a 'full-time' Death Eater; that was until he found out about the abominations back in 1979.
Voldemort had held him back one November evening after one of the weekly Death Eater meanings and had asked him for the use of his personal house-elf, Kreacher. He had thought it odd at the time, but he wasn't about to go against a direct order from his master. Voldemort had used Kreacher to test defences against what he later learned was a locket Horcrux, leaving him to die afterwards. Kreacher was able to escape using house-elf magic and told Regulus of what had happened.
This was the deciding factor in Regulus' betrayal towards Voldemort. He created a duplicate of the locket and placed a note inside for anyone wanting to destroy the Horcrux to find, and then ordered Kreacher to take him to where the real locket was hidden. Kreacher guided Regulus past the cave's defences. At the island with the basin of potion containing the locket, Regulus took the locket himself once the potion was gone and replaced it with the fake one, then escaped without his companion and left to go find a way to destroy the Horcrux.
Kreacher had drunk the potion himself to save his master Reggie from doing so, and when he tried to get water from the lake to quench his thirst, he was dragged to his death by Inferi. By that time Regulus was running out of the cave and could hear the calls of his house-elf, his closest friend, telling him to run; to run and destroy the abomination!
And run he did. He ran and once out of the cave he apparated to his room in Grimmauld Place. However, despite his best efforts, he was unable to destroy the Horcrux. In his desperation to grant his loyal house-elf, he went to Albus Dumbledore and begged him for help. In exchange for destroying the Horcrux, he was made into a spy for the Order, and so he still was till this day when he came staggering into the Headmaster's office to give him the most terrible news.
"One of the Death Eaters overheard part of the prophecy, and Voldemort is going to target the Potters!" Regulus explained once he had caught his breath.
"I see..." Dumbledore said pensively. "This is not good, indeed. Thank you, my boy. This piece of information will go for a good cause."
"Can... Can you do anything for them?" Regulus asked hesitantly.
Dumbledore's eyes gave that annoying twinkle as he gave him a warm grandfatherly smile. "All will be well, my boy. Now, why don't you retire in one of our guest quarters, you'll be living here on a daily basis soon enough anyway."
Regulus almost opened his mouth to deny the invitation but he knew there was no saying 'no' to the Ruler of the Light, so he just nodded his head and headed out of the office and to the guest wing. You see, Dumbledore had offered him the post as Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin and he had readily accepted in the view that it would keep him in the good graces of his two masters.
Regulus wasn't stupid, he could see that Dumbledore was no better than Voldemort, but he had gotten himself into this mess and he didn't know the way out, so he could only hope that he would survive the upcoming war and live, even if it were just to end up in Azkaban for having the Dark Mark. He could only hope he would be able to find his soulmate one day and have a generally peaceful life.
He cursed the Black family for being so commonly cursed with polso vuoto, i.e. they were commonly born with a condition which meant they had a blank wrist. It sucked and he wished he didn't have it, but that's how it was. Sighing to himself he entered one of the first guest quarters he could find and settled in for the night, he could only hope no nightmares would plague his dreams tonight.
And so, following the days after Regulus Black once more risked his life as his position as spy by giving information of Voldemort's plans to Dumbledore, the Supreme Mugwump went and told the Potters of the prophecy and helped them into hiding by casting the Fidelius Charm over one of their vacation homes, with Peter Pettigrew as their Secret Keeper.
Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton
October 30th, 1981
Peter Pettigrew, fearful servant of the Dark Lord, had overheard half of the supposed prophecy and faithfully told it to his master a fortnight ago.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have triced defied him, born as the seventh month dies... And the Dark Lord will mark them as his equal, but they will have the power the Dark Lord knows not..." Peter had resighted.
Lord Voldemort had ignored the last sentence and immediately asked of any child who could possibly fit the requirements the prophecy placed.
"The Potters recently had a child," Peter confessed at the time. "They had a daughter named Henrielle who was born on the 31st of July at 11:48, close to midnight."
Voldemort had tapped the tip of his wand against his knee as he thought; he would need to take care of this threat. "Good job, Wormtail. You may leave now."
"Of course, my lord. Thank you, my lord." Peter whimpered. His lord had praised him for his work and so he had come again today to give him more news on the Potters.
He kneeled down before the Dark Lord and kissed the hem of his robes, awaiting with bowed head his acknowledgement.
Lord Voldemort stared down at his most faithful servant and drawled, "What brings you here today, Wormtail?"
Eyes still to the ground he replied eagerly, "The Potters have made me their Secret Keeper, my lord."
"Excellent," The Dark Lord muttered, a dark glee in his voice. "Most... excellent."
Potter Cottage
Godric'sHollow, England
October 31st, 1981
It was Halloween of 1981 and Sirius Black sat by the fireplace of the Potters home, the Potter parents themselves nowhere in sight. Sirius had been assigned to watch over Henrie as James and Lily went out of the house after being locked up for about a week.
Sirius was still unsure of what possessed him to agree to this, he was awfully bored and had nothing to do but ponder about his would-have-been godson's betrayal. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it, his godson had betrayed them form the moment he was born, being the Dark Lord's soulmate; he was utterly heartbroken, he would never get to know and care for his godson. Never get to teach him how to fly his broom and to take up the mantle as the next Marauder. His godson was lost to him from the moment they read the name engraved on his wrist.
Sirius was so lost in the massive conflict revolving around his mind, he didn't notice when the Dark Lord himself entered through the gates, effortlessly passing the Fidelius, and began his walk towards the cottage.
Lord Voldemort thought to himself as he made his way to his success; Wormtail had given him the address to the Potters home, and so he was able to get through the Fidelius unnoticed. As he strode to the doors of the cottage, he looked down at his mighty wand and caught a glimpse of his left wrist. Which was unreadable, of course.
His wrist had always been that way, barren for the exception of unrecognisable scribbles, a sign that his soulmate had not been born at the time; but he had dropped the chance of ever finding out who his soulmate would be the moment he made his first Horcrux at the age of sixteen. He didn't need to find out the identity of his supposed other half, they might as well be dead for they would only serve as a distraction he could not afford.
Breaking from his sour thoughts, the Dark Lord casted Confrigo, blasting the door open and finally alerting the only adult inside to his presence.
Sirius was so surprised when he heard the blast, that as he turned around to face the doorway he misstepped and twisted his ankle. He swore as he staggered and grabbed onto one of the couches' back to help keep himself upright. His eyes were wide with fear and sweat trickled down his neck. He shivered, his heart beating at an exhilarating rate. He inwardly berated himself for getting distracted; he was supposed to be keeping guard!
As the dust cleared, he laid eyes on the perpetrator. Lord Voldemort had gotten past the Fidelius Charm and that only meant one thing; Peter had betrayed them. Pushing himself up, he held on to the couch with his left hand and pulled out his wand with his right.
"What are you doing here!?" Sirius questioned angrily, pointing his wand at the self-proclaimed Dark Lord.
"Well if it isn't Sirius Orion Black," Voldemort drawled mockingly. "I am here to kill the youngest Potter, and you are in my way."
Sirius stumbled a bit, shocked by the current events, but quickly righted himself. "You'll have to get past me first!"
"Obviously," Voldemort offered, dry sarcasm hard in his voice. He pointed his wand towards Sirius and shouted, "Expulso!"
This was so not his night, was the first thing to flash through Sirius' mind before he was sent flying into a wall, a rapidly bleeding whole over his abdomen. As his back smacked against the wall, his right shoulder was dislocated and his world went black as he distantly heard the crack of his skull.
Lord Voldemort watched as the young man passed out and slipped down the wall, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. He sneered at the broken figure, for a Black he was the weakest he had ever encountered.
"Pathetic." Voldemort spat and turned his direction to the staircase.
Lord Voldemort glided up the stairs to the nursery and stood in front of the crib. In the crib, Henrie Potter slept undisturbed and unaware of what happened around her.
"Goodbye, Henrielle Potter." Voldemort snarled as he pointed his wand towards the infant, calling out, "Avada Kedavra!"
In an instant, the infant's magic took action and created a sphere like shield around her. As the killing curse headed towards its victim, it was intercepted by the former and caused it to bounce back towards its caster. The Dark Lord let out an inhuman screech as he was hit with his own curse, and as the shield around her evaporated into thin air, Henrie continued to sleep unbeknownst to the world around her.
That night, Lord Voldemort was reduced to a mere wraith and the world would soon come to know Henrielle Potter as the Girl-Who-Lived.
As James and Lily Potter rushed in through the gates of the very visible Godric's Hollow, there hearts chilled at the endless pool of possibilities that could be awaiting them. They had decided they needed a day out of the cottage and had left Sirius to babysit Henrie, making sure to leave an alarm on the front door in case anyone got past the multiple wards and Fidelius.
Said alarm had gone off as they made their way down Hogsmeade, blaring loudly and alarming everyone within 20 feet of them, which happened to be a big amount. After managing to escape the chaos they had caused, they apparated straight to the front of Godric's Hollow.
Needless to say, the sight that greeted them wasn't the cheeriest. Just from the gates, they could see that the front door had been blasted from its hinges; turning their heads as they ran up to the cottage, they took note of the fire spreading in the sitting room and broke into a sprint.
Jumping over the bits of wrecked door left in the entrance, they ran into the sitting room. James began casting Aguamenti towards the back of the only armchair that resided in the cottage, where a candle stand had fallen and lit the carpet on fire. When the flames had gone down, he crept closer and was shocked at what he found.
In the meantime, Lily had continued up the stairs, desperate to check on her precious child. She sighed in relief as she laid eyes on her one-year-old daughter who was sleeping peacefully, the only sign of anything happening were the black robes which laid on the carpet and the jagged scar on her left cheek. She was still holding her daughter close to her chest when she heard James' anguished cry of, "Padfoot!"
Dread filled her as she made her way down the stairs, Henrie in her arms. She found James kneeled by one of the couches, sobbing silently. As she stepped closer, her arms tightened around the infant, braising herself for what she might see.
But nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her.
Sirius Black lay bloodied with a massive hole on his stomach, his neck was bruised and his hair was matted with blood. His chest barely did move and his lips were purple, meaning he was having problems breathing. Even if he were to survive this, Sirius Black would never be the same.
When had things gone so wrong?
