- 10 -

July 1996

...

HARRY POTTER ALIVE

Spotted shopping in Diagon Alley

Whether young or old, witch or wizard, there isn't a soul in Wizarding Britain that hasn't followed the story of Harry Potter's tragic life.

After his mysterious defeat of the Darkest Wizard in recent history left him an orphan, Harry Potter was given into the care of his mother's muggle relatives.

Nine quiet years went by, but on May 2nd, 1991 the child became a talking point once more, when the news of young Harry's disappearance hit the headlines, resulting in a search of unequaled proportions.

Countless wizards and witches, among them notable personalities like our esteemed Minister Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore, Lucius Malfoy, Amelia Bones, and Gilderoy Lockhart, took part in the quest, but to no end. Neither hide nor hair of young Harry was to be seen, until yesterday that is.

Jeffrey Jones, 23, a shop assistant at Quality Quidditch Supplies on Diagon Alley, couldn't believe his eyes when he saw just who had walked into his shop:

"I knew that there was something different about him the moment he walked through the door. He just draws attention, you know? Of course, I would never have guessed... I mean Harry Potter?! But when I saw his scar, there was no doubt about it."

As luck would have it Mr. Potter's visit was caught on camera, and the photographic evidence supports Mr. Jones's statement. The tall, dark-haired youth, whose uncanny resemblance to the late James Potter is hard to overlook, can only be his son Harry James.

While Mr. Potter's unexpected reappearance fills us with relief, new questions concerning his disappearance arise:

Who is he living with? Why did he or his caretaker never contact the relevant authorities? And where is he now?

...

"Lucius? Are you alright?"

Lucius heard his wife's voice in the background, but he couldn't look away from the young man frowning at him from the newspaper. Even though the picture was a bit blurry, there was no doubt about it: This was the same boy he had seen yesterday morning. The boy who had been with Alphard Black.

He couldn't believe he had been in the same room with Harry Potter and failed to recognise him. It was all there, the messy black hair, the narrow lips, the straight nose – apart from his eyes he was a spitting image of his father.

"Lucius! I'm talking to you!"

"What?" he snapped, more harshly than was appropriate, and Narcissa narrowed her eyes at him.

"We're having breakfast together, Lucius. Either you put down the paper and talk to me, or you can eat by yourself."

"Harry Potter was spotted in Diagon Alley," he said tonelessly and pushed the Daily Prophet to her side of the table.

Narcissa wrinkled her nose and chewed her last bite carefully before she deigned to answer him. "Please Lucius, don't tell me you fell for this." She pushed the paper back towards him without so much as a glance. "Isn't there someone claiming to have run into Potter at least twice a year?"

"This time it's different," Lucius said. "They have pictures," he elaborated when she raised her eyebrows at him.

"What?" Narcissa reached for the newspaper faster than Lucius could blink.

"By Merlin, he looks just like James Potter. But I thought- I thought he had died?"

"That was the general assumption, yes."

With a loud popping sound, their house-elf appeared next to Narcissa. "There is a fire-call for Mistress in the family room. Mrs. Zabini-"

"Sweet Lord, she must have seen the news already." Narcissa stood, smoothed down her morning robe, and looked at her husband apologetically. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not, darling." In fact, he was more than just a little relieved that she would be otherwise occupied. There was so much to think about. Right now, he probably was the only wizard in Britain who knew where to find Harry Potter.

Or at least he knew where to start looking. Alphard Black, as paranoid as Bellatrix was mad, had always insisted on keeping his whereabouts a secret.

He was only reachable by owl, and only at certain times of the year. Maybe he could contact him again, pretend to have another job for him? Convince him to bring the boy along?

But then what?

His Lord was gone. The only ones benefitting from Potter's reappearance would be Dumbledore and his ilk…

Should he even bother?

.

Thump. Thump.

A loud pounding noise woke Remus from his slumber. He groaned and rolled flat onto his stomach. What had he been dreaming about?

Thump. Thump.

There had been lots of greenery… woods maybe. Yes, he'd been in the woods. And noises. The scream of deer in distress…

He'd been running, no hunting, and was about to sink his teeth through soft fur into deliciously lean flesh, was about to taste the unique flavour of warm blood on his tongue…

Remus grimaced in disgust. As much as his subconscious seemed to enjoy these dreams in his sleep, as much he hated them when he was awake. They reminded him that the beast was inside him at all times, not only that one night of each month it took control.

Thump-Thump. Thump-Thump.

"For Merlin's sake," he muttered under his breath as he put on some pants and hurried for the door. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

As soon as he'd turned the knob, the door was pushed open with enough force to make him stumble back.

"Bloody hell, Sirius! What are you doing here, it's-" Remus glanced at his watch, fully expecting the time to vindicate his indignation. Alas, it seemed the early morning hours had long passed. "-it's eleven a.m.," he finished weakly.

"You really do need to find a new job," Sirius said as he pushed past him into the kitchen. "Coffee?" he asked, already making himself at home.

"Please." Remus sat down at the kitchen table. "You know it's not easy for me to find a job, what with-"

"Harry is alive," Sirius interrupted him, swiftly directing a cup of hot coffee to settle in front of Remus. "Drink up, we have no time to waste."

"Sirius," Remus started carefully. "We've talked about this. Nobody has seen Harry in-"

"And that's where you're wrong!" Sirius said, pulling a crumpled newspaper out of his coat pocket. He straightened it out on the table and turned it so that Remus could read the article in question.

"Look!" Sirius insisted, stabbing his finger against a picture in the center of the page.

"James," breathed Remus, not fully understanding why Sirius was so excited about the photo, or why the Prophet would print it, for that matter.

"Look at his eyes."

"Oh my… That can't be, he's- I thought he was-" Remus felt like he couldn't breathe.

Staring back at him from the paper was a pair of eyes that didn't belong in James' face. They were bigger, and almond-shaped whereas James' had been more downturned.

Remus felt like time had come to a standstill as he watched over and over how the eyes in the picture widened in surprise before they narrowed in what looked like suspicion. He recognised them now, knew where he had seen that exact look more times than he could count.

Those were Lily's eyes, Lily's eyes in James' face.

His friend's voice snapped him out of his stupor:

"Harry is alive. This-" Sirius held onto the worn-out paper like it was a lifeline "-is exactly what we needed. Every wizard and witch will be on the lookout, the Ministry will reopen the case. We're so close to finding him Remus, I can feel it!"

.

Barty slowly approached the child-like figure resting in a cushioned armchair. He made sure that his footsteps could be heard loud and clear - while his Master's outer appearance had suffered, his reflexes could still put a snake to shame, and trying to sneak up on the Dark Lord was a quick way to get oneself killed.

"My Lord," he spoke reverently, even more so than usual as he was not sure how the news he brought would be taken, and a Cruciatus before breakfast was really not what he aimed for.

He normally trusted that his Lord acted just and merciful towards his servants, but his current condition grated on the Dark Lord's nerves, rubbed them raw, and made him more volatile – not that Barty faulted him for this.

If he were to be in his Lord's position… If he had existed only as a specter for years on end…

Barty knew he wouldn't have been as strong as his Lord, wouldn't have been able to cling to life by sheer force of will, to find a way to possess animals, to contact his servants, to devise a plan to regain a body…

But this was the Greatness, the Power that distinguished his Lord from the common man.

Lord Voldemort would find straight lines where there was only chaos, wander paths untraveled, unravel secrets even the myths had ceased telling about.

Lord Voldemort was extraordinary in mind and magic, and Barty was proud to be back at his side, to have the honour to help his Master regain a body, and further down help him cleanse their world of all those unworthy and bring it back to its long lost greatness.

"Barty," Lord Voldemort spoke slowly, stretching each vowel. "Why do I detect nervousness in your voice, my faithful?"

Barty respectfully averted his eyes. "My Lord, Harry Potter has been sighted."

He held out the newspaper, and with a swish of his wand – oddly long in Lord Voldemort's child-like fingers – it flew towards the Dark Lord.

With bated breath, Barty watched as his Lord's eyes took in the front page. He tried to gauge his reaction, but the Dark Lord gave nothing away.

The silence stretched, only interrupted by the rhythmic dripping of the leaking tap in the bathroom next door.

"I think it is time we return to England, my friend," his Lord finally said. "I discovered a ritual that will help me regain my body, and coincidentally I need the blood of an enemy to complete it. It is only appropriate that I invite Mr. Potter to join us on this occasion. A man only gets so many fated enemies, after all."

The newspaper burst into flames.

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