From the Journal of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

When I left Black at [word obscured], I assumed he would remain well-hidden from Ministry employees who seek to return him to Azkaban. Indeed, all remained quiet for over half a year, and it was not until his patronus came late one night that I realized the man had not been sitting idle where I left him. I ought to have known, having known Black in his youth.

He had many things to say, and had provided evidence of the existence of a Harry James Potter. "Look, he went to a public school, and I've found all his school reports and healer records. Well, the Muggles call them doctors." He left a pile of folders on my desk, and looked quite triumphant. I flipped through the folders. I didn't want to insult the man.

"Potter is not an uncommon name," I told him. This Potter had received decent enough marks, if my knowledge of Muggle grading system proved correct.

"He'd be almost done with his fifth year, and ready to take his OWLs," Black told me.

That gave me pause, I must admit. Not because I believed in the existence of Black's godson — I judged him to be mad, but in a sad and benign way. But I had only just that afternoon been thinking of the Weasley boy. He was also in his fifth year, and preparing to take his OWLs. I expected him to succeed; his bookish friend Miss Granger would not allow him to do anything but succeed. I was afraid his heart was not in his studies, however. The events of Halloween of his second year had shaken him; had shaken the whole family. The Weasley twins, who had given Black and his crowd a run for their money in regard to how many rules they could break without getting expelled, had stopped getting into so much trouble, and had simply hunkered down. It was rare that their names passed my desk.

Black offered a galleon for my thoughts.

"Mr. Black, I am sorry, but I can't take the public school records as solid evidence that he was your godson, and you're the only one who remembers he even exists." As I have mentioned in other entries, I believe Voldemort is on the move, and preparing to return. It was this that consumed my attention. I needed to counter his moves, find his Horcruxes, and mitigate any and all damage he might cause. I could not worry about a nonexistent boy named Harry Potter. I told Black all of this.

"What if it were two children, then?" Black said. "I told you, I know Weasleys had a girl. Lily mentioned it, before she died. All those boys, and finally a girl."

"I don't remember you knowing the Weasleys very well at all. You barely knew Gideon and Fabian, even."

"I didn't know them," Black said wildly. "It's memorable that they had so many kids, all boys, and then had a baby girl. I don't know how many times to keep saying that."

"You're insinuating that two children have been forgotten completely." I am afraid I got rather harsh with him. I did not want to do it, but he had to know how insane he sounded. "There is no charm strong enough to do that."

"I know, but—"

"What you are obsessing over is impossible."

"With a memory charm, yes, but I've been doing some digging, and—"

"Mr. Black," I said. "I am trying to keep a thousand children safe. I'm trying to prevent Voldemort from returning, and if he does, I am taking steps to mitigate what damage he can do. Even now — I think I'm getting close to finding another Horcrux. I could use your help."

"If I promise to help you, will you promise to at least listen to me?"

I knew then that he would not be deterred. And I also knew that I could use his help. It was folly, but I agreed anyway.

"I promise. I will at least listen to you."

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Author's Note: It's kind of fun to write such an ominous thing on Christmas Eve, when everyone else is feeling festive and shit.

Merry Christmas Eve!