The house was empty.

Vernon checked the cupboard while Petunia made a round of the rooms, clutching Dudley protectively. It wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. The only indication of the Dursleys' freakish house guest was the parchment – paper, god dammit, that thing had been paper – lying on the kitchen counter. Petunia was quick to sweep it off.

All the house held was a family of three.

Vernon whooped.

Minerva had just left when one of the trinkets on his desk began to spin.

Albus Dumbledore paused, setting down his seventh lemon drop for the evening. He watched the object for quite some time; nothing changed. It spun at constant speed, not too fast, not too slow; it did not glow, or beep, or float, or tap dance, as one might expect in the office of a wizard.

Harry Potter had left his house.

What good news, thought the man, despite the late hour. His family must have taken him to the store.

He chuckled and returned to eating candy.

The trinket did not stop.

"Jenkins!"

Theodore looked up. The hallway was long, dark, and lit only by torches (one had gone out), and a tall, scrawny cloak was hustling towards him.

"Good, I just caught you. Did you have a job tonight? How'd that go? Anyway listen, I'm supposed to go assassinate some guy in London later but I just got a call from the States. My nephew got into some trouble with the Templars – you remember Desmond, right? He's a good kid, just needs to get out and kill people more. But now he's gone and gotten himself into trouble and I really need to go catch this flight I just booked – leaves in an hour, I'm going to have to sneak on board now – to get him out of it and I – what. Is. That."

Theodore held out the bundle.

"Congratulations. You're the second person in the Brotherhood to meet the newest member of it. This is Harry Potter."

Miles, the grunt-level assassin who refused to tell anyone his first name, stared at the thing for several moments, which ended with him cautiously poking it.

"Is that a –"

"Brand. New. Assassin."

"But, that's a –"

"Assassin."

"But –"

"Ass. Ass. In."

"…You just swore in front of it!"

"Ass – huh?" Theodore blinked. "Huh. You would think a Brotherhood that's existed for all of recorded history would have noticed by now."

"Yeah," Miles nodded emphatically. "Though in hindsight, calling someone a donkey isn't much of an insult. It must have come from us."

"Mm," Theodore agreed. "I suppose we have shaped history in more ways than just killing people."

"Uh – huh."

"Well."

"…So why do you have a –"

"Ohmygosh is that a baby?"

Hell broke loose. And promptly returned to its cage, whimpering.

White cloaks began pouring in, invading the small hallway as they flooded through doors and windows and ventilation shafts and secret entrances and from beneath each others' robes, mobbing one another to get a look at the small bunch of ratty blankets. Some were making cooing noises; others were holding up cameras. Several found themselves being mercilessly thrown out of the way as Margaret, owner of the earlier squeal, came to the forefront.

"Oh Theodore, is it yours?"

"I –"

"You didn't tell me you were married!"

"I –"

Oh, let us see it already! What's its name? Is it a boy?"

"He said its name is Harry Potter." Miles supplied helpfully. Margo gasped.

"Is that the mother's last name? Potter?" Without waiting for Theodore's input she turned to the crowd and shouted "has anyone heard of a Potter?"

"There's a Potter in Bankside!"

"Harefield! Working in the pub!"

"Knightsbridge! Oh, but I may have killed that one…"

"Two! In Godric's Hollow!"

"Potter is his father's name!" Theodore managed over the throng of excited assassins, many of whom began screaming anew. Margo finally turned to him.

"You mean to tell us that Jenkins isn't your last name?"

"What? Of course it is –"

"Why that's brilliant! Of course you wouldn't be so daft as to use your real name as an assassin, what if you were caught? I mean, no offense Theodore (that is your first name, right?), but you're not exactly the most skilled among us, and such a comical name really does lend itself to making your opponents underestimate you –"

"…What?"

"What is going on in here?"

Like a flipped switch, there was silence. Slowly, the mass of robes turned to face the one standing in the doorway at the end of the hall. It stood menacingly, silhouetted by torchlight, and glided down the stonework, parting cloaks as it went.

Theodore suddenly found himself alone.

"Master. I… Uh…"

Wizened eyes glinted at him. "Yes?"

"Ah… Well, you see –"

"Ga?"

As a single entity, the entire Brotherhood of Assassins (England Branch) gazed upon the emerald green eyes of the first infant to ever grace the halls of their current headquarters.

(Not that it meant much. Their previous one had been mysteriously destroyed in a freak tornado replete with random bolts of red and green light and flying broomsticks. They'd taken a landslide vote to never mention the incident. The current excuse was a shared desire for modern electric wall sockets.)

Little Harry Potter closed his fingers around the one proffered by the resident Master Assassin.

"Theodore," he rumbled as he played with the toddler. "As much as I'm sure family takes precedence, this is no place for your son –"

"He's not mine!"

There were gasps of shock, but whether they were aimed at his declaration or the fact that he'd so brazenly interrupted the Master Assassin, he had no idea. The child in his arms let out a shriek of laughter and stuck the Master Assassin's fingers into its mouth as he hurriedly continued.

"I mean, I'm not being cheated on or anything, that would be ridiculous seeing as I'm not, ah, married. Or even have a girlfriend. Or ever had one, for that matter. But because I've never had one they couldn't possibly have cheated on me. And I couldn't possibly have a… have offspring because that requires certain… things. And… Stuff. That I do not have. …Look, there's a very good explanation for all this!"

"Jenkins-Potter calls it a 'Brand New Ass Ass In.'" Miles piped up. The Master Assassin frowned.

"You're teaching it to swear?"

"My last name is not Jenkins-Potter! My last name is Jenkins! Just Jenkins!"

"Well then, Just-Jenkins, where did this Brand New Bleep-Bleep-In come from?"

"It's not – wait, what did you just say?"

"Well then, Just-Jenkins, where did –"

"No, the bleep-bleep part!" The Master Assassin looked patronizing.

"Well I can't have you cursing in front of it; you'll send a bad message to children everywhere!" Theodore gaped at him.

"You mean I'm allowed to murder parents in front of their children in the hope they'll grow up seeking vengeance, but I'm not allowed to swear in front of a new assassin?" The Master Assassin clapped his hands.

"We have a new assassin? How joyous it is to add a fresh face to our ranks! Where are they?"

"Right here!"

Theodore gestured at the bundle, which gurgled with the Master Assassin's finger still clamped between its few baby teeth.

"This child is an assassin?" The Master Assassin asked skeptically. Theodore flushed.

"Well, no. Not yet. I thought, maybe we could train him up to it."A low murmur swept the crowd, with hushes of "train him?" and "are we qualified for this sort of work?" and "I never signed up for this!"

The Master Assassin blinked, and assassins everywhere gasped again – that was about as surprised as he got. Jenkins was really pushing it today.

"Train him?"

Deciding he really had nothing left to lose after all this, Jenkins nodded vigorously.

"You wish to take him as an apprentice?"

"Oh! Er… I guess?"

"You guess?"

"I was thinking maybe it would be more of a… team effort?" He snuck a glance at the gathered assassins, who suddenly all seemed to find the ceiling rather fascinating. They were abruptly interrupted in their musings on the striking color of the grey stone when the Master Assassin clapped his hands together again.

"Ah! A group project!"

With a slight sense of danger, Jenkins forced himself to ignore the murderous glances being sent his way, gulped, and whispered "sure."

"Right!" The Master Assassin turned and began to stride down the hallway. "Everyone without a current mission, to the auditorium! Speaking of which," the Master Assassin glanced back at Miles, "I thought you had some pressing concern to attend to?"

Miles jumped. "Ack! My plane!" Dashing off, he called over his shoulder, "Jenkins, I'll leave that London target to you then!"

Theodore hesitated, before sighing and looking at the Master Assassin's back. "Master, I now have a current mission. May I be excused?"

The assembled assassins glared at him.

A/N Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, followed, or even just took the time to read the last chapter!