Common Sense: The Odd Ideas File

A Father's Love

A/N: I love a well-written Harry as neglected twin story. The Sacrifices set of stories by Lightning on the Wave (multi-million word count) has quite a crafty Lily and clueless James. Unsung Hero offers up a brilliant Harry and a puffed up twin bolstered by clueless parents and Dumbledore. I wanted to try one where Harry isn't neglected, where at least one of his parents doesn't get caught up in the fame, where Dumbledore is more of a problem than Voldemort ever could be.

Edited January 26, 2008.

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Albus Dumbledore leaned down and plucked up a plump toddler from his crib. "Christopher Potter was hit with a Killing Curse – and he survived it…"

Here, a wounded, tired James Potter interrupted. "No." He wasn't hysterical; he wasn't in deep denial. His 'no' meant something else.

"What?" People didn't often disagree with Albus Dumbledore on questions of magic. He was, after all, one of the most powerful wizards in the world.

"No. I don't agree with your interpretation of the obvious facts…."

"Well, it's obvious…."

"No," James said again. "What's obvious is that Voldemort learned of our location from one of your Order members…."

"I'll have the Aurors look for Sirius Black."

James Potter shook his head. "We switched Sirius out for Peter. Sirius was to be the decoy, to draw attention away from Peter, but it seems Mr. Pettigrew, my one-time friend, was either tortured for the secret or willingly gave it up."

"Why didn't you tell me?" A touch of fury tinted Dumbledore's words. He didn't like being kept in the dark, even about something like this.

"It's my family's safety. It was a bad decision…this whole use of arcane spells to hide in plain sight was a bad idea."

"You agreed," Dumbledore said. "No buyer's remorse…."

"Fine, but I won't make the same mistake twice. Voldemort came here tonight, attacked our wards with help from a traitor, and perished in the magical backlash he accidentally created…."

Dumbledore looked confused. "No, James, I think you're confused. It's obvious that Voldemort died in the nursery…."

James shook his head. "It's obvious you're insistent on painting a target on one of my son's foreheads. Voldemort died as a result of overconfidence in his cursebreaking skills. Happens all the time with the high-end magical thieves. Forty percent mortality per year is the current estimate. That's the only story I will publicly support, Albus."

"But the people have a right to know…."

"No. My children have a right to safety and relative anonymity. You will not make them a target of whatever Death Eaters are still out there, do you hear me?"

"I think you're distraught. Rest up, help Lily heal from that nasty bump on her head…."

"You may tell people that Voldemort died and you're still investigating exactly how that happened. Say anything else, Albus, and I swear you won't like the consequences."

"Fine, James. We'll pick this conversation up tomorrow."

"You can meet me in the hunting lodge."

"It's not warded like this place is…."

"This place was warded to the high heavens and look what good it did." James shook his hand, still clutching Voldemort's cloak.

"Well, at least allow me to contribute some protections, James."

"Good night." James pointed toward the exit from the property. "You'll want to take Voldemort's cloak and his snapped wand as proof."

Dumbledore examined the vile wand. "It didn't break in a natural way did it?"

"Between my two hands. That thing would have been a magnet inside the Ministry and it would have been stolen faster than I can say, 'Aspiring Dark Lord.'"

"I wish you wouldn't have done that."

"We'll talk tomorrow. I have children to attend to…."

"I can send Poppy."

James shook his head. "I'll engage a Healer from St. Mungo's. Good night."

Albus grudgingly left. He had a lot of people to contact.

James, on the other hand, sat down with a whiskey while the Potter elves began moving the belongings from the small house they were in back to the main Potter Manor a few dozen miles away. It had some of the oldest wards in Britain, it sat upon the nexus of three ley lines and had a natural magic sink deep in the earth underneath it, it was situated better than Gringotts was (even without dragons as guards)…but Dumbledore had talked Lily into his crackpot scheme regarding the Fidelius Charm. Lily, curious Charms Mistress-to-be that she was, lapped it up like fresh cream.

James had grumbled. No Head of House ever liked not being in absolute possession of the wards protecting him and his family. Not when he went from incredibly strong wards and a defensible position to a tiny home with no escape paths…and someone else in charge of the wards.

It was a perfect recipe for a disaster….

That bastard! Why? Why! Why had Dumbledore pulled James, Lily, Christopher, and Harry from safety into a profoundly unsafe environment? Why was he so interested in Christopher now?

It was clear Dumbledore had plans for at least one of his children. He had looked them both over and selected Christopher as if…as if he'd come here knowing what he'd find. The bleeding arsehole. Whatever twisted things Dumbledore had in his mind, James would not let them happen.

James now classified Dumbledore as an enemy. Albus had let at least one traitor into the Order. Albus had shown up within ten minutes or so of Voldemort blasting his way into the house. The man had likely placed a series of notification wards…so he'd know when the attack he'd expected happened.

James's confidence in Albus had decreased the longer he'd been graduated from Hogwarts. Time and time again, Dumbledore went up against Voldemort and did not defeat the evil wizard. Time and time again, Dumbledore had used mere stunners against Death Eaters…to turn them over to the Ministry…to 'escape' on their way to Azkaban.

James had advocated for sterner tactics…or at least for an Order-controlled prison away from the Ministry's corruption. A few others, like the Prewitt brothers and Benjy Fenwick, had agreed, but Albus quashed the idea. Fenwick and the Prewitts were dead; James had nearly died; Albus wouldn't change his tactics. Dumbledore was the new enemy.

He wanted something from Christopher. He had a rather willing ear in Lily Potter. James had to do…something…to stave off the ruination that Voldemort himself hadn't caused a few hours earlier.

James walked to the bedroom that was nearly empty of its contents. He had a small mirror there – and his wife, Lily, was asleep on the bed.

"Padfoot," James said into the mirror.

A few moments passed before the mirror lit up with the face of another wizard. "Prongs, you look like hell."

"Pop over here. I need some advice."

"Roger!"

The mirror went dark. It was going to be a late night. James had a lot of thinking to do. All roads led back to Albus. What was his one-time mentor up to? How had he turned so deceitful, so scheming without anyone noticing?

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November 1 was a day of celebration. James woke at mid-day and saw that Lily was still out from the Dreamless Sleep. James walked to the nursery and saw his little bundles of energy were already up and wreaking havoc while a pair of ecstatic house elves looked on. James stopped to play with both of his sons for a few minutes before leaving to get something to eat.

He'd made a few decisions very early in the morning, decisions to protect his family, decisions that Albus Dumbledore would hate.

Sirius was already up and installed in the kitchen. It looked like a flour bomb had gone off all around Sirius.

"You know you can't cook…."

"I wanted to do something nice for you and Lily and my godsons."

James laughed. Nice was so not Sirius Black at this stage of his life.

"Hey!"

"You should have called for Dilsy. She's the kitchen elf. She'll scold us both for what you've done in here."

Dilsy did just that and thirty minutes later the kitchen was pristine and both men were stuffed.

"Did you decide?" Sirius asked.

"Family first, Sirius. Family."

Sirius nodded and seemed a bit sad. He'd long hated his particular family, save for his nutty cousin Andromeda, but he could understand James' impulse.

"We should get Remus over here. Maybe set up a little hunting party. Rat hunting…."

James shook his head. "I have something else planned for Peter. I'll be in the ritual chamber after I check on Lily."

Sirius looked shocked. "You'd do that to him?"

"Absolutely."

Sirius took a second and then snorted. "Family first."

An hour later, James locked himself in the central basement room and began the ritual to exact a severe magical punishment against a betrayer of the Potter Family. Five minutes later and Peter Pettigrew was a squib. He had enjoyed the hospitality of the Manor House and had later betrayed the family. The powerful family magics worked James' will. James only hoped that Peter was in his animagus form when he lost his magic. He'd be trapped as a rat for the rest of his life.

James left the ritual chamber and found Sirius playing with Christopher and Harry. James joined in with the play for an hour before he left to check on his wife. Lily was finally awake.

He took a few minutes to explain in broad strokes what had happened with Voldemort and with Dumbledore. When Lily immediately sided with Dumbledore's interpretation, James frowned. While James had grown disillusioned with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Lily had grown more and more enamored of the old wizard.

"Lily, his Fidelius was worthless…."

"No, Peter was worthless."

"And Peter was approved as an Order member by Dumbledore's phoenix. Dumbledore has stated that it was a foolproof loyalty test. Foolproof, right. I'm not letting him have any control over the fate of the Potter Family going forward. Our last bit of trust almost cost all of us our lives."

Lily wanted to argue some more, but James told her to rest. "Is Christopher okay?"

"Both our sons are okay, Lily."

"But, Christopher wasn't hurt from what Voldemort did to him?"

"Go to sleep."

James left the room as his wife yelled after him. Lily was going to be a problem. But first he had Dumbledore to deal with.

When James went back downstairs, he saw that Remus had arrived. "Is it really true? Voldemort tried to attack?"

James nodded. Remus looked overwhelmed.

"How? The paper didn't say much…."

"Sirius, you, and I can discuss that. It's complicated."

"What did Dumbledore say?"

"That's what makes it complicated, Remus."

"Fine. Fine. Where are Chris and Harry?"

"With Sirius, I'd expect. I've been taking care of a few things. That reminds me, I need to call Frank Longbottom."

"Frank?"

"Yeah, I have some advice for him."

"Right," Remus said. He walked upstairs toward the nursery.

James needed to warn Frank about Dumbledore's 'excellent' wards. Who knew who could walk right into where Frank, Alice, and Neville were hiding out?

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Dumbledore arrived as day turned to night. He'd never been inside the old hunting lodge on the Potter Estate. It was a very warm, large room. Still, he felt uncomfortable here inside wards he didn't control.

Particularly given his opponent of the evening.

James walked inside and gestured for Dumbledore to have a seat.

"Is Lily not joining us?" Dumbledore knew she was his strongest possible bulwark against James' pig-headedness.

"No, she's still feeling under the weather, Albus."

"I see." He looked over at the former Hogwarts Head Boy and wished things were easier to do. "Have you reconsidered my 'interpretation of events,' as you call it?"

"Yes. I consider it the worst possible thing you could say. The truth doesn't matter to people. There was no hero, no winner of an epic duel, no one who needs a medal. Best to let Voldemort seem like a moron who can't bring down a simple set of wards…."

"I disagree…." Suddenly Albus lost consciousness and slumped forward.

When he awoke, he discovered himself bound in a chair. His tongue felt an odd greasiness sliding around on it. Veritaserum. He cursed to himself and hoped that James – or whichever Death Eater was impersonating James – wouldn't know the right questions to ask.

"What wards did you cast on the Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow?"

Albus gritted his teeth. That was one question he didn't want to answer. "The Fidelius Charm, a Dark Arts detection ward, a catastrophic failure warning ward, and a weak wizard repelling ward."

"Who was keyed to hold the Dark Arts and catastrophic failure wards?"

"I was."

"Why?"

"I wanted to know when they failed. I wanted to be the first on the scene."

The next question was slow in coming. Albus knew he was consigning himself to his death because of the hard truths he was being forced to reveal. Still, he couldn't stop. "Why were you so sure the wards would fail?"

"Wards cannot stop destiny. Voldemort knew he had to attack either you or the Longbottoms. Luckily Peter's betrayal made him come after you."

James obviously grimaced at Albus' choice to wording. 'Luckily' was probably a mistake to say. "What do you mean by destiny?" James asked.

"A prophecy…." Here Dumbledore tried to fight against the truth serum. But it didn't last. He gave away all his secrets concerning the prophecy. About the marking of a child, about a power that the Dark Lord wouldn't have, about a final confrontation to the death.

Dumbledore had his mind ransacked for a long time. He stopped noticing the questions. He only heard the answers he revealed.

"I suspected Peter Pettigrew after Fawkes developed a strong dislike for the young man…."

"I did not attempt to confirm if Pettigrew was our leak, not even after Benjy died. I needed information to get out to Voldemort, you understand. I needed Voldemort to keep fighting and not winning. I needed him to become careless enough to activate the prophecy."

"Yes, it was Severus who revealed the first lines of the prophecy before I asked him to join the Order. I could have stopped him that night, but I wanted the Dark Lord to know. I wanted the prophecy to have a chance to kick into effect."

"I know three of the Dark Lord's sympathizers among the Aurors. I suspect they're the ones who free the captured Death Eaters. Crouch has active battles to fight and he hasn't turned his attention to the perennially missing prisoners. Foolish, I think. I want them to have a second chance to turn away from evil which is the reason I haven't destroyed their escape route. Voldemort, in my estimation, is truly the only one beyond redemption at this point."

"I suspected that either you and Lily or Frank and Alice would die, yes. But it was necessary. It seems that your destiny isn't completed yet, James."

"I would have placed Christopher in the Muggle world had you both died. I knew your aversion to Lily's sister, but it seemed like a viable alternative. As for Harry, he would have disappeared entirely. The superfluous do not matter when it comes to destiny."

"Lily became your girlfriend after I explained the realities of life as a muggleborn. I sat her down near the end of her sixth year and gave her the talk. She could score twelve 'O's on her NEWTs, but if she wasn't part of a well-respected family, she wouldn't go anywhere."

"I had thought Sirius the most likely traitor, even knowing about Fawkes' dislike of Pettigrew, which is why I encouraged Lily to have him selected…."

"I had a full set of plans for Black to go to Azkaban. Peace comes at a price, after all. The Child of Destiny needed to be safe in the Muggle world, not raised as a pureblood prince."

"I have the paperwork in my pocket for Lily to sign. I want to turn the other child over to someone else to raise now that you survived. Only Christopher Potter matters. He must be safe. He must be ready for when Voldemort comes. I'm the only one who can prepare him."

"I will wear you down, James, until you agree with my plots. I always win."

Albus heard the ragged breathing of his inquisitor. He'd given up almost all of his most important secrets related to the war and to the Potters. His mind was in pain like he hadn't felt in a long time.

Suddenly another voice came from behind him. "Ask him why he wanted to sacrifice me."

"Albus, why would you have been willing to sacrifice Sirius Black?"

"He was too independent, too unpredictable. He couldn't have been trusted, not with something as essential as the Child of Destiny."

"Tell me, Dumbledore, why I shouldn't kill you and incinerate your body right now?"

"You don't have it in you, James. I know you. You saved Severus Snape from a werewolf even though he was your enemy. You may hate me, but you won't kill me."

Even with the slurred nature of his truth-compelled speech, Dumbledore sounded smug. He wondered if he'd finally pushed his interrogator too far.

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James had long known that the Potter Manor had a dungeon, with actual prison cells, but he never thought he'd need to use them. Now, he'd just placed Albus Dumbledore into a cell that only the Head of the Potter Family could enter and exit.

James had to think.

Dumbledore planned to throw his allies to their deaths in order to activate a prophecy…in order to salvage Death Eaters like Snape…in order to merely delay the eventual final death of Voldemort. He was obviously insane, but James and Sirius might be the only wizards in Britain to understand that now.

Dumbledore was magically powerful, insane, politically untouchable, the head of the supposedly independent judicial branch, and an utter arsehole. He couldn't trust the Ministry with any of this. Potters dealt with their own problems.

For now, Dumbledore would remain down here.

But the other major problem was upstairs in their bedroom. His wife, his opportunistic Lily. The woman he loved; the woman who loved his respectable family.

What to do?

James felt like his life was crumbling rather than starting anew. Voldemort was dead, but James could only think about how close he'd come to his death…because of Voldemort and Dumbledore.

And Lily's whispers in his ear.

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James returned downstairs after dosing Lily with another Dreamless Sleep. Harry and Christopher were hobbling around as best they could on their shaky legs. James laughed and played with them as he pondered what Remus and Sirius might cook up.

James was supposed to be interrogating his wife, Dumbledore's unwitting accomplice inside the Potter family, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He hated what she'd down, but he still loved his wife.

James stooped down and plucked up Harry from his attempt to crawl over Christopher.

"Oh, you little scamp. We'll have to teach you to crawl on Sirius. Maybe you can teach the old dog some new manners, eh?"

James ran his finger over the scar on Harry's forehead. "We'll have to look into getting this removed. But I didn't want to risk your safety in these early days. We'll let Mean Old Mr. Crouch round up the bad guys…."

Christopher wobbled over to James' chair and demanded to be picked up. His boys only knew about six words apiece, but they both used them with supreme clarity. James settled Harry onto one knee and picked up his son Christopher. Chris was free from any sort of visible blemish.

Based on what the prophecy said, the one Dumbledore had only shared under duress, it seemed obvious that Harry had been physically marked by Voldemort, not Christopher. It didn't matter, though. His sons were Potters; he loved them both.

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Lily woke up, no longer in bed. She was upright, bound to a chair. "What's going on?" she called out.

She heard a shuffling noise and then someone – was it James? – appeared in front of her.

"Lily, you will answer my questions. Do you love your son Christopher?"

"Yes." She more than loved him. She treasured him above anything else.

"Do you love your son Harry?"

"I don't know." He wasn't the Child of Prophecy that Dumbledore had informed her of. He was part of her, but he wasn't important, was he?

"Do you love me?"

"No." Lily hesitated to enunciate the word, but she had to say it. James' face collapsed in pain.

"Why did you date me then?"

"Because I needed help and support. I had plans I couldn't accomplish on my own. You were from the oldest family still around, wealthy, smart, funny in a cruel sort of way, not so hard to look at. I tried to fall in love, but…."

It was going to be a long interrogation, Lily knew. Her safety in the wizarding world was gone. She was a sort of familial betrayer. James could kill her, if he wished to, and get off without punishment thanks to the archaic laws in place in this world. Albus had warned her of this…and she hadn't planned to be caught. She was truly trapped without a backup plan.

"Tell me everything you've ever been informed of by Albus Dumbledore that I did not also know."

Lily gulped. She would be talking for an hour.

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Remus had come up with the main outline of the current plan. The Marauders had always worked well together, but this was the most daring thing they'd ever attempted: the figurative self-immolation of Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had to fall on his own…or at least it had to look that way to the people who witnessed the event.

Sirius had added the details, but it was actually Lily's extensive little horde of potions notebooks and treatises which she had bought for the Potter Library that provided the main breakthrough. Liquid dementia.

James' contribution was the timing of the plan. Dumbledore had confessed two days ago. Two days hence the Wizengamot was convening for its first post-Voldemort session. Nothing could be a better platform for the gossip to immediately escape in every direction.

The very best detail, however, came from old Xenophilius Lovegood's new publication. The crazy things that man cooked up. Perfect.

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James Potter settled into his seat on the Wizengamot, at the very right edge of the first row. His family was the oldest still intact so he had the first right to speak, a rather powerful privilege.

Today, he would use that power to deal with several problems.

The session began right on schedule. Minister Bagnold slid over into the Chief Warlock's seat when Albus didn't appear on time.

"The session has commenced. The order of progression is in front of each of you. Preliminary hearings of captured enemy forces…."

Here, old Griselda Marchbanks interrupted the proceedings. "Stop there, Millicent. There are only fourteen names listed on my sheet. I know very well that seventeen people have been apprehended so far."

Millicent almost snarled back a response. "Three of them have proved that they were under the Imperius Curse. The DMLE decided not to press charges…."

Another Wizengamot member, old Tillson, stood up. "It's our job to decide the truth of any situation. Get those three over here. We'll hear the charges and then decide what the evidence means."

"I issued pardons," Bagnold said, the words spilling from her mouth. She had obviously not intended to say that much. Those three words had just cost her her job, although she didn't know it yet. James Potter would ensure that Millicent Bagnold was gone within the month.

James said nothing during the preliminary hearings. Barty Crouch had sufficient evidence in every case. James was surprised that Crouch had allowed any of the Death Eaters to get away with a pardon. The old mad man would likely have 'accidentally' killed some of them just to ensure they didn't get off free.

The group moved through its business until a loud bang interrupted everything. Albus Dumbledore, dressed in mud-soaked green and purple robes, stumbled through into the room. Minister Bagnold looked shocked for a moment, then surrendered her seat back to Albus.

As the aged warlock stumbled closer, a horrid smell assaulted everyone's nose. He had obviously sweated out a dozen bottles of Firewhiskey in recent days without stopping to take a bath.

"I have come to make my final report on Voldemort's death," Albus slurred. "It's taken a great deal of time and much study. Powerful magics, rarely seen, of course.

"I have determined Voldemort was killed by heliopaths when he attacked the Potter home. Powerful, dangerous creatures of the sun. Surprising that they were out at midnight, but it must be true. As you know, heliopaths…."

Griselda Marchbanks stunned Dumbledore before he got into full rant. "I've long wondered if he was coming close to breaking. The pressures of the war. Then Voldemort dying without Dumbledore having a hand in it. Must have shattered his mind."

The discussion, distinctly off the agenda, swirled for another fifteen minutes before James Potter stood up.

"In light of all this, I must move to at least temporarily replace the Chief Warlock. Dumbledore has served us well, but now he obviously needs time to heal."

The group was unanimous in their support for the motion. Dumbledore had just lost half of his power.

The group eventually got back to its agenda after Dumbledore was removed to St. Mungo's. It gave James enough time to start his proxies on the second half of the Dumbledore problem: getting the old bag of bones out of Hogwarts altogether.

The closer the meeting came to the open portion of the agenda, the tenser James appeared. He wanted his fellow members to notice. He wanted the press to notice. He knew their eyes were already on him for his hinted role in Voldemort's demise…but now he had everyone's attention.

Minister Bagnold opened the meeting to new issues. James rose, along with several others. Given the rules of precedence, James spoke first.

"I have two issues to lay before this body. First, I nominate Luciette Depuy to serve as the Chief Witch of the Wizengamot while Albus recovers."

Reporters glinted with interest. Depuy wasn't a known Potter loyalist, nor was she a fan of Dumbledore. Her family was more neutral than even the Zabinis were. Considering who he had to choose from, it was the best option James had to ensure that neither Dumbledore's philosophy, through a disciple, nor a Death Eater took control of the Wizengamot.

Depuy also happened to be a particularly beautiful witch even in her 70s. She had many friends and admirers among the body. No one else rose to present any other names. Depuy took the chair, the shock of being nominated by James Potter still writ large on her face. She could only recount speaking with the man four or five times since he'd taken over the Potter seat.

"Thank you. I believe Mr. Potter still has the floor." She nodded to him with an odd smile on her face.

"Thank you. I would like to make a public report on the attack that occurred at my cottage in Godric's Hallow on October 31. As much as the end results were a cause for celebration, I have a sad truth to reveal…." The room had become almost completely silent. People had been waiting for the official story for some time now.

"Voldemort learned of my family's location from a former friend of mine named Peter Pettigrew. When he arrived in Godric's Hollow, he encountered a weak wizard repelling ward and a series of obscure but powerful wards cast by Albus Dumbledore. While he was attempting to break those wards, he was overpowered by them. It happens frequently to people who aren't trained cursebreakers. There were onlyfour wards to deal with but they were tied into massive magical reservoirs. He perished, as you all know, leaving only his broken wand and cloak behind."

Here James turned on a small touch of the water works. He had to be convincing. "The sad part of the story is that my wife, Lily Evans Potter, was downstairs in the basement at the time working in her Potions chamber. She felt the attack begin and left the safety of that warded room. Just as Voldemort caused the magical overload, Lily passed near the ward stone. She was hit with a massive discharge of energy, one large enough that it burned out the ward stone entirely. At the time, I thought she had just injured her head, as she'd been thrown against a table. So I fed her healing potions she'd brewed herself. We noticed the true problem three days ago." He paused for a moment, letting the vultures lick their chops. "Lily's wand no longer worked for her. Whatever that discharge was rendered my wife a squib." The gasps through the room were loud. Aside from death or bodily assault, it was the worst thing any witch or wizard could imagine. "My sons, Christopher and Harry, were safe and remain very healthy…even overactive. My wife has gone into seclusion and we plan to seek out the services of a variety of Healers to determine if there is anything we can do to restore her ability to perform magic. At this time, that is all I know about what happened. Thank you."

James sat down and kept his face neutral as the chaos washed through the room. He felt no guilt at the lie he'd substituted for the truth – or the fact that he'd stripped his traitorous wife of her magic. She was currently in a small cottage in Brittany. She would never be seen publicly again.

An hour later the meeting ended. James ducked away from the reporters and apparated back to the Potter Manor. He stripped off his ceremonial robes and went to find his sons.

He was glad that Dumbledore had begun his descent…but he was still Headmaster. And three Death Eaters had pardons for their crimes. The more James did, the more there was to be done.

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James, Sirius, and Remus took three days to come up with this solution to one set of their current problems.

"Master Goblin," James began as he sat inside the ornate office.

"Please, Mr. Potter, call me Ragnok."

"Ragnok, I have come on a matter of mutual interest and, perhaps, profit to both our worlds."

"Speak."

"I would have the certified banking records of these seven Death Eaters who have managed to escape prosecution in the last three weeks. I believe they have corrupted members of the Ministry. I will also need records for some members of the Wizengamot and other Ministry officials."

"This is a wizarding matter, Mr. Potter. Goblins care not for how the wizards spend their gold…."

"I suspected you might say such a thing, Ragnok. I am prepared to destroy the reputation of Gringotts immediately if you do not aid me in this endeavor."

"What foolish prattle is this?"

"You will arrange for certified copies of banking records to reach these five members of the Wizengamot – for this list of families, including these suspects within the Ministry, yes, including Bagnold herself – or else I will publicly state that I have withdrawn the Potter fortune from Gringotts because of your support of Voldemort in…."

"That's outrageous. We supported no one."

James smiled a feral grin. "So you didn't open a secret entrance for people who couldn't enter through the front door? Or create a special class of vaults with their own track? Or permit obviously plundered items to be sold through Gringotts intermediaries in the Muggle world?"

Ragnok growled.

"You will not live to get your wealth from your vault…."

"Vaults. I've emptied the Potter vault, the Gryffindor vault, what little was left in the Peverell vault…. Do I need to continue? I will ruin you once wizards know that your vaunted neutrality has been a lie for years."

"You won't leave this room alive." Ragnok pressed a rune on his desk. Surprisingly it did nothing.

"I think you're mistaken. The story is already in the hands of three wizarding publications. Only I can retract it. And you can't call your guards to kill me since I know how your wards function. You have fifteen minutes to decide, Master Goblin. The airborne poison I used affects only goblins. After fifteen minutes there is no cure."

Instead of growling, Ragnok seemed to chuckle. "That is…brutal, wizard. You seem to have understood goblin negotiations."

"I understand that guilty witches and wizards escaped punishment. I do what it takes."

"We may be able to deal, but you will never be able to set foot again into Gringotts."

"I knew that before I came inside your office."

"What do you offer then? The goblins of Gringotts care not whether one goblin dies or not. My death would mean little to them. They would tear up any agreement we make if I die – or if the rewards aren't worth the risk."

"I will kill Gringotts in the minds of witches and wizards…."

"A threat is nothing if you hesitate to carry it out. You mentioned mutual profit?"

Here James smiled. He knew he'd won this phase of the negotiations. "You own up to your support of Voldemort, execute the collaborators, and then help the Ministry enforce the Traitors Act of 1312…."

"I do not know it."

"It's been enforced rarely. It states that the members of a recognized insurrection forfeit their lands and wealth once the insurrection is put down. How else do you keep wizards from rioting every other day? Cowards refuse to enforce it, but I will negotiate with them."

"Ahh, I remember. Gringotts gets a ten percent finder's fee?"

James nodded.

"It will be a great profit. The innocent family members of the traitorous goblins will have some solace."

"I suspect it would be you yourself who would identify the traitorous elements within Gringotts…. Perhaps some of your political enemies will find their names on the list."

Ragnok displayed row after row of sharpened teeth. "The thought had occurred to me."

"I would like to see the files before I release you. Start with Lucius Malfoy, his father Abraxus, and any related vaults."

The goblin opened his bottom desk drawer. "Magical ledger. Take your time, but remember about the poison…."

"Top of my mind." James took the ledger and scanned the last few months worth of entries. Lucius had paid out some hefty sums. Some went to benign organizations, like St. Mungo's. Some went to organizations James had never heard of, such as the Blood Research Fund. But the bulk of the larger transfers went to other vaults: Bagnold, Fudge, Wilkins (rumored Head Unspeakable), sixteen members of the Wizengamot, seven people who worked underneath Crouch in the DMLE (but not Crouch himself)….

"This is a start."

"The antidote," Rangok insisted.

"We're not done negotiating." James found the goblin became more agreeable the closer they came to the end of the deadline.

"What?"

"The manner in which the records reach the select Wizengamot members. They must be certified, but it must look like someone managed to steal the records from the wizards themselves. Or some sort of clerical mishap. Do you have a method to make that happen?"

"We could mail them with specially trained owls. The address on the envelope would be correct, but the owl would dump them elsewhere…."

James nodded. It was as good an idea as he'd heard for this particular problem.

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small vial. He passed it to the relatively new Director of Gringotts. "I should warn you, this isn't enough to cure you. Tomorrow, after the records go out, I will send an owl with the larger dose. I wouldn't want you to be tempted into betraying me, would I?"

Ragnok snatched the vial and drank it.

"You have another twenty or so hours. Be fast if you want to live."

James waved his wand and tore down his wards, the ones for privacy, the ones to inhibit goblin runes, the ones to keep the door from breaking under any sort of physical attack.

"Good negotiating, Mr. Potter."

"I hope we don't have to do it again. Keep this conversation to yourself, eh?"

The goblin bowed. One didn't reach the Directorship by being beaten in negotiations very often. He could hate and respect the wizard who'd bested him without a second thought.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Sirius made more of a mess eating breakfast than Christopher and Harry did. But James hadn't kicked him or Remus out of Potter Manor yet. He needed friends. He needed people he could plot with.

Remus walked into the room with a copy of the Daily Prophet. "It worked. Bagnold is in a cell next to Malfoy, I'm sure. The Ministry is in turmoil. I'd expect you'll be busy sorting out your secret actions in the Wizengamot very soon."

James smiled and nodded.

"What do we do if that dementia potion ever wears off of Albus? St. Mungo's would release him. He might even be able to petition his way back into Hogwarts," Sirius said.

Remus shook his head twice. "The thing causes major brain damage. A few wizards got the idea after seeing some elderly muggles who'd lost their mind. They wanted to be able to reproduce the condition to see if they could cure it. They discovered how to create it, but not how to fix it."

James ate some more eggs but stopped midway through. "I can't help but wonder if that blasted prophecy could be true…."

Remus shrugged. "If it is, we prepare."

"The Marauders ousted Dumbledore, surely we can defeat a silly prophecy," Sirius added, as he was pelted with a piece of soggy toast thrown by Christopher Potter.

"Be careful, little man, I can throw faster than you…." This time, a bit from Harry hit Sirius on his cheek and stuck. "Gross."

James and Remus began to laugh. Christopher and Harry continued eating some and throwing some of their food. It took Dilsy the kitchen elf throwing a fit to break up the little party.

Later on, James returned to thinking about the future. What could he do? Things were safe and settled for now…but in the future?

He didn't know how, but he would be ready. He would make sure Christopher and Harry were both fully prepared.

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

A/N: Having just finished this, I think it might be the best setup of any story I've yet written. I'm not sure I want to try to fill in what comes next. Anything I could think up would likely be a let down.

Someone asked why Lily agreed with Dumbledore to a plan that would have cost her her life. Who says that Dumbledore told her the entire truth of his plan? (He's one of those enigmas cloaked in a riddle wrapped up in a puzzle; never seems to give a straight answer, does he?) Or that she wasn't such a fanatic by that point that she wouldn't agree to martyr herself for the fame and power she so seems to desire as a muggleborn in a pureblood world. As for why Harry survived without Lily dying, the canon explanation of Lily sacrificing her life for her son is also entirely unsatisfactory. I put it down to fate/destiny saving Harry and Christopher (in this story and in canon).

As for why James let Dumbledore escape with 'only' dementia, there is actually a good reason which I only sort of hinted to it in the story. (The dementia, of course, also helps to destroy Albus' ability to even remember that he has magic at his disposal.)

The way I conceive of the familial betrayer is that it has to be a close friend or family member, someone who would often accept houseroom inside the Potter Manor. Lily and Pettigrew often stayed over; Dumbledore, as a security conscious old coot, never would. The family magics James appealed to would consider Lily and Peter as betrayers because of their continual visits to the Manor and such, but not Dumbledore.