A/N: By the way, this story is pre-HBP. No nasty horcruxes to deal with. What was the diary then, you may ask? Simply what we were all led to believe at first—a cursed diary left behind by Tom Riddle. Also, please, if you read the chapter, review, even if only to say "good" or "bad". Reviews keep me going, and I often feel that I have no reason to finish it if no one's reading it anymore. This chapter contains some mild language (it is not prominent at all, but it is there, so I wanted to make note of that) and an implied sexual situation.
"Come to bed, don't let me sleep alone. Couldn't hide the emptiness you let it show—never wanted it to be so cold, just didn't drink enough to say you love me. I can't hold on to me, wonder what's wrong with me?"
--"Lithium" by Evanescence
-Six Years Earlier-
Lucius Malfoy walked briskly to his Master. Born on July thirty-first…who would've thought. Could he possibly be the one who had been meant? Lucius thought about what he knew about the Potters. He wondered if they had defied the Dark Lord three times before when the Prophecy was made. He was almost certain that they had. He didn't want his Master to leave anything to chance on his quest for power. He had to go unchallenged.
Lucius reached the small chamber in which his master often saw his servants and opened the doors. The Dark Lord turned his piercing stare from one of his Death Eaters (who was writhing on the ground in pain) to Lucius.
"Luciusss," he said. "Why have you come barging into my chamber?" Lucius knelt.
"It is of utmost importance. It involves the Prophecy, my Lord," he said, never quavering. Voldemort looked at the two servants who were in the room with them.
"Leave," he snapped, and once they had he strode quickly to Lucius. "Speak, for your life may depend on it."
"I was in Quality Quidditch Supplies today with my son when I ran across a young boy—Harry Potter. My son told me that today was his birthday, and Potter confirmed it. My Lord, the Potters defied you three times by the date of the Prophecy. It is possible that Harry was the one meant when it spoke of your demise," Lucius said, hurried. Voldemort gazed at him for a while, using legilimency, no doubt.
"You may be right, Luciusss, and we cannot have that, can we? Get a few of the lower servants to get a message to Dumbledore. We need to schedule an…appointment with the Potters," the Dark Lord said with a sinister smile. Lucius stood then bowed.
"As you command, my Lord," he said, and exited from the room.
Albus Dumbledore was not having a good day. Severus had very little information to offer up on Voldemort's current plans, and seventeen muggles had been killed when a street exploded (from magic causes, though the muggles didn't know that). Dumbledore sat down at his desk with a sigh and stroked the head of his phoenix, Fawkes.
"What are we to do, my friend?" Albus asked the bird. Fawkes cocked his head and put a sad expression on his face. If he could speak Albus knew he would have very little to say at the moment. Suddenly two dark figures came out of the shadows. Albus knew that they were Death Eaters, but he remained calm, as always. To lose one's head in a bad situation would only make the situation worse. "Good evening gentlemen," Albus said cordially. "What can I do for you today?"
"You can get the Potters. The Dark Lord wishes to speak with them," said one of them.
"You may remind them that if they do not comply," said the other, "then their children will not live to see Hogwarts."
"They must meet him tonight at midnight in the graveyard of Little Hangleton," said the first. Dumbledore nodded carefully.
"I'll be sure to tell them," he said.
"One other thing," continued the second. "They come alone." The two Death Eaters disappeared.
"I need to strengthen these wards," Dumbledore mumbled to himself as he grabbed a stack of parchment and a quill. He scrawled a note quickly and gave it to Fawkes. "Get this to James Potter as quickly as possible. I want no delays. Once you have finished, come straight back here. I need you to take another letter to some of the members of the Order. We're going to be strengthening these wards tonight." Fawkes screeched and was gone in a burst of flame. Albus massaged his forehead. This bad day was about to get a lot worse.
Lily and James Potter arrived in Dumbledore's office soon after they received his letter.
"Is everything all right, Professor?" James asked. The old Headmaster looked more tired and drawn than ever.
"No, James, all is not right. And you may call me Albus. You're not in school any longer," Albus said, repeating what he'd said for years. His former students never seemed to be able to call him Albus rather than Professor. He was touched that they respected him so, but it often became annoying. "I was visited by a pair of Death Eaters today. They said that you and Lily are to meet Voldemort himself in the graveyard at Little Hangleton today at midnight. I fear Voldemort has discovered that Harry may be another contender for the Prophecy." The color drained from both James and Lily's faces. "I imagine that Voldemort wants to make negotiations—most likely a trade. Your lives and your daughter's be spared at the price of your son. You must go quickly. I have a plan, but there is no telling if it will work or not. Return home, take the children to the Weasleys—I'll inform them of your impending arrival."
"Why can't Sirius take them?" James asked. Dumbledore sighed.
"James, you know that for years here has been a mole inside of the Order. We have no idea who it could be, but my suspicions lay mainly on four people, and you know that Sirius is one of them," Dumbledore answered.
"I know Sirius! He's my best mate—he'd never do anything like that. Besides, the children love Sirius. They know him—they've never even met the Weasleys! He's not the mole," James exclaimed.
"But what if he is the mole James? Are you willing to stake their lives on the idea that he isn't? Are you willing to put them in more danger than they are already in? If I didn't know that you and Lily both would strongly object, I'd have suggested the Dursleys. Knowing that they are ruled out, that leaves the Weasleys. I'm sorry James, Lily. But it has to be this way," Dumbledore replied. James shook his head.
"Fine. Do whatever it takes to keep them safe," James said then brusquely went to the fireplace. "Keep watch over them, Albus. I'm trusting you." Lily quickly nodded, the heartbreak and pain in her eyes blatantly obvious as she took her husband's hand and stepped up to the fireplace. "Godric's Hollow." The fireplace was engulfed in green flames and soon those flames swallowed the broken hearted parents. Once alone in his office Dumbledore put his head in his hands. There was nothing more that could be done.
Lily and James arrived in a small graveyard. Lily's hand was white as it clenched onto James. "We're going to die here, James," Lily said, tears in her eyes. "We're going to die here, and we can't protect Harry anymore."
"We've raised him right, Lily," James said. "He'll be ready to face him when the time comes. I know it." He squeezed her hand for comfort as dark figures began to appear everywhere. "Show yourself, you coward," James snarled into the air. "We came to deal with you, not your cronies."
"Ah, bravery. The euphemism for foolhardiness," said a cold voice from behind them. James and Lily whirled around to see the cruelly handsome face of Voldemort, his red eyes glinting. "I realize that I invited you here this evening, and I would not be so rude as to not make a personal appearance to my guests." Voldemort stopped and walked around the tombstones. He paused at one and smirked, putting his hand on the top of it, then sliding it down to trace the letters of the name. He looked back at Lily and James. "Do you know who this was? No, of course you don't. This is my father's grave. He and his family were the first people I killed when I left Hogwarts. It was fairly quick, fairly painless. He got more than he deserved." Voldemort smirked up at James and Lily, who both stood rooted to the spot, though both their hands were poised, ready to strike if necessary. "The only reason why I haven't killed you or your worthless brood yet is because I thought to myself the other day, the child in all likelihood has no knowledge of the prophecy that will one day be his demise. But I do. And I know that one day he will be very powerful. So wouldn't it be a better idea to raise him as my heir than kill him as my enemy? Unfortunately, he already has two, wonderfully loving parents," Voldemort laughed at that. "So, what a fun game, I thought. I can kill the both of you, possibly the girl as well, and step in as the fantastic parental figure when he's in a vulnerable time. With the aid of a little diary of mine and a few riggings within Hogwarts—such as a temporary spell on the hat that I'll put in place this year—I should be able to gain the boy's complete trust and adoration. But then, I thought, he might be a little upset that I killed you both. That might be his only turning point, the only reason why he might one day turn against me. But I can't very well send you home. So I'll keep you my prisoners, presumed dead. And one day, when your son has completed his training, I will reveal you to him—and have him kill you both himself." Voldemort smiled and patted the tomb. "And one day he will look down on your graves in the same way I look down on my father's now. With hate, and malice. But there is one thing he will not feel that I do—regret. Because I will make sure that the two of you get what you deserve in the end."
"Sick bastard!" James spat. "You'll never get away with this. He'll never join you!" Voldemort laughed at that.
"James, James. Come now. It's not that difficult to manipulate and corrupt an eleven-year-old. It's not difficult at all. And if you're wondering right now where in the bloody hell is the back up that Dumbledore promised you, it's fighting a losing battle against my death eaters a little further up the road. Dumbledore's one weakness was always his underestimation of me. They'll never know what has happened to you," Voldemort tapped the tomb with his wand and stairs appeared down into the depths. "You will never leave this prison—just know that the next time you see the light of day, it will be so your son can kill you. Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Potter." James leapt forward and shot a curse at Voldemort, but it was easily deflected and Voldemort threw a stunner at him just as Lily threw a curse at him. Using wandless magic Voldemort deflected that as well and threw out another stunner, aiming at Lily. It hit its mark. Voldemort approached her and grabbed her neck as nothing but her eyes could move and watch, horrified.
"Two on one? That's not very honorable, Mrs. Potter. You better watch yourself, or I'll make sure you're not very 'honorable' any more. Though I will not lower myself to touch mudblood flesh in such a way, I'm sure that some of my death eaters would be more than happy to oblige any such request I would make," he hissed and then dropped her. Voldemort lifted the two bodies into the air with a flick of his wand and set them down rather rudely in the crypt. "Oh, and just know that if you ever try to escape, it will not be your life that is in danger, but rather the life of your daughter. Have a nice stay," Voldemort said, right before lifting the stunners and sealing the entrance. With a smirk he turned to Lucius Malfoy, who had come up as he was taunting the Potters. "Take good care of them, Lucius. I need them well in tact." Voldemort tapped his dark mark to signal all death eaters to leave. With that both Lucius and Voldemort apparated away, along with dozens of other death eaters.
Less than a minute later Sirius Black was running across the cemetery grounds.
"James!" he called. "Lily!" He looked around in desperation. "JAMES!" he screamed. "LILY!" Remus ran up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"They're not here, Sirius. They've probably been abducted," he said, not wanting to voice the other possibility. The other man sunk to his knees, broken.
"No," he whispered.
"Sirius…" Remus found he could say nothing else.
"NO!" Sirius screamed. Remus gently dragged the hysterical Sirius to his feet and away from the cemetery, back to the gates where the other Order members looked on in grief and in pity for the sobbing man. "Too late. We're too late."
It would be many, many years before the two men realized the cold, cruel irony of the scene. It would be many, many years before they realized that they had been standing on top of Tom Riddle's grave, the very crypt in which James and Lily were imprisoned.
"I can't believe we just did that," Harry said, breathing hard. His mind and heart were racing.
"I can't either," Ginny agreed. Harry gently took his hand and ran it down the side of her face. He didn't understand this new feeling, but he knew what it was and it frightened him more than Voldemort ever had. He was certain that what he was feeling was what they called "love". "Um, we should probably get back." Harry snapped back to reality. What they had done was stupid. Whatever they had felt didn't belong to them. They couldn't feel such things. Those things belonged to a reality that had long since been lost to them. Harry nodded.
"Right," he replied as he got up. "They'll think I've abducted you if we're gone much longer." Their eyes met for a moment as they realized that what had just transpired was not for them to keep. They walked back to the house in silence, but once they arrived Harry spoke once more. "Ginny…" he began. "In another universe…another time…" Ginny shook her head.
"Don't Harry. I understand. We can't…we can't ever be together. Besides. Though I lo—have feelings for you, I still don't trust you," Ginny replied.
"And though I…have feelings for you…I know you never would be safe with me. I could never make you happy, Ginny. That much I know for sure," Harry said. AS they went inside they both mourned for a destiny that was long lost to them.
Rose, the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus sat in the living room. Harry stopped dead in the doorway, ready to leave the way he came.
"Harry, wait," coming from Sirius' mouth was the only thing that stopped him from doing so. "I apologize for my behavior yesterday. There were circumstances that I wasn't aware of."
"Don't apologize. You only voiced your opinion. Last time I checked, that's not a crime," Harry said. "You can't forgive me. You'll never be able to trust me. That's just a fact that applies to everyone in this room." Harry took a few steps away from the room, his back facing them. "Reform. It's a joke, a lie. No matter what you do, you can never truly be reformed, because you will never really convince all the people you've hurt in the past that you've reformed. The crimes you committed can never truly be wiped away. In the end of all this, when the war is over, you all will have no choice but to betray me. No matter what happens, no matter what good I do from here on out, I cannot change my past. No matter what, I'll be handed to the dementors to have my soul ripped from my body in the end." He turned to them, a perverse smile twisting his face. "At seventeen, I'm condemned to a fate worse than death itself. Aren't I?"
Harry's "family" stared guiltily back at him. They knew he spoke the truth—after the war, when the Order had no use for him, they would have little say over what would happen to him. They could hide him forever, true, but how long could that last?
"Your silence says all," he said and walked into the house, up the stairs and into his room. Downstairs, Sirius got up along with Remus.
"We tried," Sirius sighed. "Thanks for letting us try, Molly, Arthur." Mrs. Weasley nodded, a worried expression on her face. It was obvious she had not considered Harry's bleak future.
"Of course, Dear. You're welcome back any time," she said as Sirius and Remus gave Rose a goodbye hug. They left through the fireplace not long after that, and the Weasley family dispersed. Rose rushed to the twins' room.
"Rose," said Fred. "We have our plan all made up to get rid of him." Rose shook her head.
"I'm out. Listen, as much as I want him gone—as much as I know he's a horrible danger…I can't let him go. You heard what he said! He faces death or worse out there! There's no hope for him out there. I can't condemn him to that," she said.
"Fine," George said. "You don't have to participate. But he's still going to be gone within the week." Rose's eyes filled up with tears as she ran to her and Ginny's room. Unbeknownst to her, Harry was in his room, across the hall from Fred and George, and had listened to every word, but only four words stuck out.
"I want him gone."
Headmistress McGonagall sat at her desk, looking over the secret reports on Harry that Arthur had made up for her. He seemed…unstable. Like he didn't know what personality he had or what exactly he wanted. Overall he was dangerous and McGonagall had no idea what to do. She looked up at Dumbledore's portrait and sighed.
"What on earth shall I do Albus?" she asked. Professor Dumbledore shook his head.
"I am at a loss, Minerva. Whatever is done I am afraid will have grave consequences," he said. Minerva sighed and went back to flipping through the file. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Without looking up she answered, "Come in." Just as she was wondering what student would be bothering her with what problem she heard a greeting from a voice she had not heard in years.
"Hello, Minerva," said James Potter as he held tight to his wife's hand. "Long time, no see."