A/N: Here is the unrushed, slightly improved version of chapter one. Thank yous will come next chapter.
***
It was a desperate plan, but times were dark and promising to get darker. So they decided to fight fire with fire. And for that they'd need a spy...
**********
"Have you got it?" James Potter asked, blue eyes darting around the darkened alley nervously.
"Here," replied a cloaked figure. He withdrew a pouch from under a black serge cape and dropped it into James' hand.
"Bless you, Snape."
"Spare me your prayers," Severus replied coldly. He disapparated into the night.
"Prick," James muttered. He too disapparated.
**********
With the disappearance of Voldemort, the plan was abandoned. Well, not entirely....
**********
In the middle of a stone chamber, in the middle of nowhere a peculiar sight was to be seen. There stood a stone couch reminiscent of a tomb. Inscriptions, old and new in languages forgotten or better left unspoken were carved into its base, crackling with white-hot light and energy. This energy was palpable in the air above the couch, nearly glowing in its intensity. In the middle of this lay a teenage boy with his arms crossed like a bizarre Snow White or Sleeping Beauty waiting for his time to come.
"Incredible," Dumbledore whispered. "It looks just like him."
"That's because it is him," replied an old woman with pale blue eyes and steel gray hair.
"Quite right, as always, Arabella," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling.
"He's in stasis right now. When we wake him, we'll need someone to train him," said Moody, leaning in as close as the energy barrier would let him. Dumbledore turned to his old friend.
"Do you remember Mr. Black, Alastor?" Moody's original eye turned toward Dumbledore.
"Hard to forget, Sirius. Such a promising lad."
"Let me guess- he was ever vigilant?" teased Mrs. Figg. Moody grinned, a scary sight indeed.
"Damn straight. He'll be leading the boy through the more active drills?"
"Yes. Sirius has agreed to help with the more physical aspects of his training. Remus Lupin has agreed to tutor the boy in all other aspects. Severus will provide the occasional lesson in Potions." Dublmbledore replied faintly, still staring in awe at the boy before him. "Perfect..." he whispered.
"Two questions, Albus."
"Yes, Arabella?"
"Where is he going to stay and what are we going to call him?" Mrs. Figg gestured to Tom with her chin, he voice low and her eyes anxious, as if she was afraid the boy might hear. Dumbledore smiled.
"I know just the person. He's a bit uptight, but his heart's in the right place and his mother is an excellent knitter." Moody and Mrs. Figg exchanged wry glances. "As for what to name him, I'm rather partial to Tom." Moody sighed.
"Why not? It failed horribly the first time, maybe the second time's the charm."
"Optimism is not one of your strong suits, Alastor," Mrs. Figg replied sourly. Moody sniffed.
"And charm isn't one of yours, Arabella."
**********
"Percy!" Percy's eyes flew open as his mother's shrill voice echoed up the crooked stairwell of the Burrow. Then he remembered that he wasn't in the Burrow. He was in his apartment, which meant that his mother had to be calling him from- the fireplace? His eyes landed on his beside clock.
"Shit." He had exactly four minutes to shower, dress, pack, say hello to his mum and be in the office.
Percy breezed into his living room fully dressed, brushing his still-wet hair and shoving rolls of parchment into his briefcase. "Hello, Mum."
"Hello, Percy love. Breakfast?" asked Molly Weasley, offering a blueberry muffin.
"I knew there was a reason you're my favorite mum," Percy said taking the muffin and kissing her on the cheek.
"Percy, I'm your only mum," replied Molly. But that didn't prevent her from beaming at the compliment.
"That's what you think," Percy chirped, replied taking a bite out of his breakfast.
"You're in a good mood this morning."
"Cheering charm. I need it. They put me under the sloppiest supervisor in the building. He's always a frazzled mess and he expects me to be the happiest person in the world. Honestly, if Mr. Crouch were here-" Percy stopped. He missed his old boss terribly and without him Percy lacked the same gusto for work. He still met his orders, but he never stayed up all night to finish a paper three days in advance for Augustin Radcliffe.
"I know it's hard," Molly clucked sympathetically, "but things will get better. Your father was talking to Moody the other day. He seemed very interested in you. Maybe they'll transfer you to his department." Percy shrugged.
"Maybe. Even working under Alastor Moody is better than analyzing the black market on flesh eating slugs with Radcliffe. I mean, really, slugs? I had more fun studying cauldron bottoms. Cauldrons are quite a masterpiece actually-"
"Percy," interrupted Molly, sensing a lecture. "Hadn't you better be getting off to work?" Percy's eyes widened.
"Right you are, Mum! I'll owl you later."
"Have a nice day, dear."
Percy apparated into the little cubbyhole of an office he'd worked out of for two years. He sighed. Already there was a stack of papers in his inbox. Most likely overflow from Radcliffe's desk. He settled in for what promised to be a long morning, making a mental note to get a bigger wastepaper basket and to ask for a raise.
"Weasley!" Percy jumped three feet into the air.
"Moody!" Then, with more dignity, "how may I help you?" Moody clunked into Percy's office.
"Albus and I have a special program. It's highly secretive and we'd like you to participate."
"Highly secretive?" Percy echoed, eyebrows raised. Moody lowered his voice and leaned in very close.
"The outcome of this project can make or break us all." Percy's eyes widened.
"Oh no! I want no part in any scheme you have that will most likely result in my father having to bail you out again before you get charged with a felony. What is it this time? Is your shadow a secret assassin, hired by You-Know-Who to kill you when your back is turned?"
Moody sighed. "I remember when you were a very sweet boy, Percy. Is Radcliffe responsible for this? The man would annoy Job."
Percy, for one, agreed wholeheartedly.
"Listen to me. This is very important. We need you. Dumbledore asked for you specifically. And no, Fudge doesn't know about this because the man is a goddamned idiot. This is bigger than Fudge. This is bigger than all of us and I'm asking you to be a part of it. Please."
It was on the tip of Percy's tongue. He could hear it in his head- a clear, resounding "no," but that's not what came out of his mouth. What came out of his mouth was "Alright, I'll help." Moody was delighted.
"Excellent. Tell Radcliffe that you're transferring to my department and he can shove his papers up his - no, you wouldn't tell him that, but do let him know that you're leaving. I'll send it to your apartment this evening. It'll be waiting for you when you get home." Having said that Moody left, a gleam in his good eye. Struck with a thought, Percy rushed to the doorway of his office.
"Moody! Does it explode?"
**********
Percy got home on time for once, not being simply swamped with useless paperwork. Inspired by Moody, he actually told his boss that he could take this job and shove it. He was very proud of himself and praying that he'd never have to work with Radcliffe again. He set down his briefcase and immediately began to look for any odd-shaped, ticking objects in his home.
What he found was a boy. A tall, slender boy with black hair and startling amber eyes was just standing in his living room among boxes in various stages of unpacking, illuminated by the orange glow of the street lights. Percy could only gape. The boy looked down at the floor.
"Ah, I see you've met your charge," Dumbledore said, smiling pleasantly.
"My-my what?" Percy stammered.
"Your charge. We need to keep him safe and I trust you implicitly."
"Safe? Me? What? But who is he?"
"How rude of me to forget. Percy Weasley, allow me to introduce Tom. Tom, this is Percy Weasley."
//Hold the phone!// Percy thought. Then //Phone? I've never even used a phone. Oh great. That's Dad's influence right there. Next thing you know I'll be using paper money...//
"I'm sorry, but here most be some mistake. You can't intend to leave him here- with me?"
"Actually I did." Percy was floored.
"I can't take responsibility for him! Besides, I'm awful with children- with people in general. Ask Fred. Ask George. Ask anybody. Everybody."
Percy was frantic now. They couldn't possibly mean to hand the care of this boy over to him. He'd never so much as considered having a pet, let alone being responsible for a human being he'd never met before. This was insane!
Dumbledore looked horribly downcast. "Oh. I see." He beckoned to Tom. The boy walked over to him slowly, a bit awkwardly, like he wasn't used to using his legs. Dumbledore rested his hands on Tom's shoulders. "I understand, Percy. It's a heavy burden. Perhaps you can help me decide where I am to send Tom now?"
Tom looked up at Percy, eyes absorbing the light eerily and Percy saw in his eyes nothing but innocence and a complete loss as to what was going on. This boy was scared. What would his fate be if Percy refused him? Percy's resolve wavered then vanished and he accepted defeat. //Dear God, why me?//
"He can stay, but eventually you *will* explain everything," he said.
"Oh, of course," Dumbledore said. "Eventually."
***
There's more to come, darlings. I promise!
Love,
J. Silver
***
It was a desperate plan, but times were dark and promising to get darker. So they decided to fight fire with fire. And for that they'd need a spy...
**********
"Have you got it?" James Potter asked, blue eyes darting around the darkened alley nervously.
"Here," replied a cloaked figure. He withdrew a pouch from under a black serge cape and dropped it into James' hand.
"Bless you, Snape."
"Spare me your prayers," Severus replied coldly. He disapparated into the night.
"Prick," James muttered. He too disapparated.
**********
With the disappearance of Voldemort, the plan was abandoned. Well, not entirely....
**********
In the middle of a stone chamber, in the middle of nowhere a peculiar sight was to be seen. There stood a stone couch reminiscent of a tomb. Inscriptions, old and new in languages forgotten or better left unspoken were carved into its base, crackling with white-hot light and energy. This energy was palpable in the air above the couch, nearly glowing in its intensity. In the middle of this lay a teenage boy with his arms crossed like a bizarre Snow White or Sleeping Beauty waiting for his time to come.
"Incredible," Dumbledore whispered. "It looks just like him."
"That's because it is him," replied an old woman with pale blue eyes and steel gray hair.
"Quite right, as always, Arabella," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling.
"He's in stasis right now. When we wake him, we'll need someone to train him," said Moody, leaning in as close as the energy barrier would let him. Dumbledore turned to his old friend.
"Do you remember Mr. Black, Alastor?" Moody's original eye turned toward Dumbledore.
"Hard to forget, Sirius. Such a promising lad."
"Let me guess- he was ever vigilant?" teased Mrs. Figg. Moody grinned, a scary sight indeed.
"Damn straight. He'll be leading the boy through the more active drills?"
"Yes. Sirius has agreed to help with the more physical aspects of his training. Remus Lupin has agreed to tutor the boy in all other aspects. Severus will provide the occasional lesson in Potions." Dublmbledore replied faintly, still staring in awe at the boy before him. "Perfect..." he whispered.
"Two questions, Albus."
"Yes, Arabella?"
"Where is he going to stay and what are we going to call him?" Mrs. Figg gestured to Tom with her chin, he voice low and her eyes anxious, as if she was afraid the boy might hear. Dumbledore smiled.
"I know just the person. He's a bit uptight, but his heart's in the right place and his mother is an excellent knitter." Moody and Mrs. Figg exchanged wry glances. "As for what to name him, I'm rather partial to Tom." Moody sighed.
"Why not? It failed horribly the first time, maybe the second time's the charm."
"Optimism is not one of your strong suits, Alastor," Mrs. Figg replied sourly. Moody sniffed.
"And charm isn't one of yours, Arabella."
**********
"Percy!" Percy's eyes flew open as his mother's shrill voice echoed up the crooked stairwell of the Burrow. Then he remembered that he wasn't in the Burrow. He was in his apartment, which meant that his mother had to be calling him from- the fireplace? His eyes landed on his beside clock.
"Shit." He had exactly four minutes to shower, dress, pack, say hello to his mum and be in the office.
Percy breezed into his living room fully dressed, brushing his still-wet hair and shoving rolls of parchment into his briefcase. "Hello, Mum."
"Hello, Percy love. Breakfast?" asked Molly Weasley, offering a blueberry muffin.
"I knew there was a reason you're my favorite mum," Percy said taking the muffin and kissing her on the cheek.
"Percy, I'm your only mum," replied Molly. But that didn't prevent her from beaming at the compliment.
"That's what you think," Percy chirped, replied taking a bite out of his breakfast.
"You're in a good mood this morning."
"Cheering charm. I need it. They put me under the sloppiest supervisor in the building. He's always a frazzled mess and he expects me to be the happiest person in the world. Honestly, if Mr. Crouch were here-" Percy stopped. He missed his old boss terribly and without him Percy lacked the same gusto for work. He still met his orders, but he never stayed up all night to finish a paper three days in advance for Augustin Radcliffe.
"I know it's hard," Molly clucked sympathetically, "but things will get better. Your father was talking to Moody the other day. He seemed very interested in you. Maybe they'll transfer you to his department." Percy shrugged.
"Maybe. Even working under Alastor Moody is better than analyzing the black market on flesh eating slugs with Radcliffe. I mean, really, slugs? I had more fun studying cauldron bottoms. Cauldrons are quite a masterpiece actually-"
"Percy," interrupted Molly, sensing a lecture. "Hadn't you better be getting off to work?" Percy's eyes widened.
"Right you are, Mum! I'll owl you later."
"Have a nice day, dear."
Percy apparated into the little cubbyhole of an office he'd worked out of for two years. He sighed. Already there was a stack of papers in his inbox. Most likely overflow from Radcliffe's desk. He settled in for what promised to be a long morning, making a mental note to get a bigger wastepaper basket and to ask for a raise.
"Weasley!" Percy jumped three feet into the air.
"Moody!" Then, with more dignity, "how may I help you?" Moody clunked into Percy's office.
"Albus and I have a special program. It's highly secretive and we'd like you to participate."
"Highly secretive?" Percy echoed, eyebrows raised. Moody lowered his voice and leaned in very close.
"The outcome of this project can make or break us all." Percy's eyes widened.
"Oh no! I want no part in any scheme you have that will most likely result in my father having to bail you out again before you get charged with a felony. What is it this time? Is your shadow a secret assassin, hired by You-Know-Who to kill you when your back is turned?"
Moody sighed. "I remember when you were a very sweet boy, Percy. Is Radcliffe responsible for this? The man would annoy Job."
Percy, for one, agreed wholeheartedly.
"Listen to me. This is very important. We need you. Dumbledore asked for you specifically. And no, Fudge doesn't know about this because the man is a goddamned idiot. This is bigger than Fudge. This is bigger than all of us and I'm asking you to be a part of it. Please."
It was on the tip of Percy's tongue. He could hear it in his head- a clear, resounding "no," but that's not what came out of his mouth. What came out of his mouth was "Alright, I'll help." Moody was delighted.
"Excellent. Tell Radcliffe that you're transferring to my department and he can shove his papers up his - no, you wouldn't tell him that, but do let him know that you're leaving. I'll send it to your apartment this evening. It'll be waiting for you when you get home." Having said that Moody left, a gleam in his good eye. Struck with a thought, Percy rushed to the doorway of his office.
"Moody! Does it explode?"
**********
Percy got home on time for once, not being simply swamped with useless paperwork. Inspired by Moody, he actually told his boss that he could take this job and shove it. He was very proud of himself and praying that he'd never have to work with Radcliffe again. He set down his briefcase and immediately began to look for any odd-shaped, ticking objects in his home.
What he found was a boy. A tall, slender boy with black hair and startling amber eyes was just standing in his living room among boxes in various stages of unpacking, illuminated by the orange glow of the street lights. Percy could only gape. The boy looked down at the floor.
"Ah, I see you've met your charge," Dumbledore said, smiling pleasantly.
"My-my what?" Percy stammered.
"Your charge. We need to keep him safe and I trust you implicitly."
"Safe? Me? What? But who is he?"
"How rude of me to forget. Percy Weasley, allow me to introduce Tom. Tom, this is Percy Weasley."
//Hold the phone!// Percy thought. Then //Phone? I've never even used a phone. Oh great. That's Dad's influence right there. Next thing you know I'll be using paper money...//
"I'm sorry, but here most be some mistake. You can't intend to leave him here- with me?"
"Actually I did." Percy was floored.
"I can't take responsibility for him! Besides, I'm awful with children- with people in general. Ask Fred. Ask George. Ask anybody. Everybody."
Percy was frantic now. They couldn't possibly mean to hand the care of this boy over to him. He'd never so much as considered having a pet, let alone being responsible for a human being he'd never met before. This was insane!
Dumbledore looked horribly downcast. "Oh. I see." He beckoned to Tom. The boy walked over to him slowly, a bit awkwardly, like he wasn't used to using his legs. Dumbledore rested his hands on Tom's shoulders. "I understand, Percy. It's a heavy burden. Perhaps you can help me decide where I am to send Tom now?"
Tom looked up at Percy, eyes absorbing the light eerily and Percy saw in his eyes nothing but innocence and a complete loss as to what was going on. This boy was scared. What would his fate be if Percy refused him? Percy's resolve wavered then vanished and he accepted defeat. //Dear God, why me?//
"He can stay, but eventually you *will* explain everything," he said.
"Oh, of course," Dumbledore said. "Eventually."
***
There's more to come, darlings. I promise!
Love,
J. Silver