Prior to March 27, 2018 this was chapter 8

Chapter 9: Fallout

Several years earlier in Wizarding Britain

The wizarding world was in an uproar. A string of high profile murders was currently underway. Because of Voldemort's activities, high profile murders were nothing new, but these were different. In each incident the perpetrator was identified as a young female vampire, no older than 15, who had somehow broken into some of the most heavily warded buildings on the planet and murdered, in cold blood, several very powerful family heads.

The first to fall were Abraxas Malfoy and his wife, killed late at night on August 20th, 1981, a Thursday. Aurors had been summoned the instant the wards had fallen. They arrived just in time to see a young girl leaving the premises leaving a number of befuddled aurors. Inside they found the bodies of Abraxas and his wife. They were dead from blood loss with the only visible wound being two small marks on the neck identifying this girl as a vampire. A note left at the scene of the crime identified her as Eclipse and named her next target: the Dolohovs.

Knowing the next target, the ministry set up a heavy guard for the Dolohov family. The following Monday they were discovered dead with yet another letter from Eclipse. It taunted the aurors calling their defense pitiful and wishing them luck next time, provided an exact date (Saturday the 29th) and target (the Lestranges), and finally insulted the ministry itself for letting "Thingy-Mort" run around unchecked.

Lord Lestrange and his wife fared no better than the previous two targets had, and died in the middle of the night without a single detection of the young vampire. Eclipse's note after that murder continued to disparage the ineptitude of the ministry and even provided tips on how to properly defend against her attacks. Things continued in this manor up until the ninth and final murder.

October 14, 1981

It was unusually bright. The moon was full and there was not a single cloud in the sky bathing the land in a soft silver glow. A gently rolling moor covered in heather extended for miles in every direction. There were no blind spots, no invisible approaches, no way past the vigilance of the aurors. Five auror squads had been deployed around the perimeter of the estate- one of several belonging to the Black family. Before Eclipse appeared, this would have been considered overkill. A single squad of veteran aurors along with the power of some of wizarding Britain's strongest wards should have been enough to stop anything short of a full assault lead personally by Voldemort.

Eclipse however, had proven very illusive. Her stealth skills were remarkable, but her combat skills were untested. As there had been no sign of a struggle for any of her previous victims, it was widely believed that the entirety of her skillset revolved around her stealth. After all, who needed direct combat skills with such prodigious talent? Even so, the government had to be seen doing something to stop her rampage- it was becoming embarrassing. While 20 aurors was serious overkill for a single vampire, it did help to calm the terrified public.

Hours passed without incident and the moon continued its trek across the sky. Shortly after midnight, as the moon approached its zenith, she appeared. Amelia, the youngest of the aurors present, spotted Eclipse first. She had made no effort to disguise her approach and appeared to be walking toward them without a care in the world. Several detection spells later to ensure that she was not simply watching a well-crafted illusion, and Amelia alerted her comrades to the situation.

The rest of those assigned to guard the residence quickly gathered and formed ranks, but the young auror could not shake the subtle feeling of disquiet that gathered in the pit of her stomach. As the vampire approached, the feeling grew into a sense of wrongness- her colleagues did not seem to notice. When it became clear that the young vampire was skipping towards them and humming something vaguely classical in nature, that feeling became dread. She was about to turn and warn her colleagues that something was wrong when Eclipse's eyes met her own, and Amelia understood.

The moon had reached its peak, but it no longer glowed a soft silver. The world was bathed in blood as it burned crimson. Her colleagues were oblivious to it all, to the doom that approached them. Eclipse caught her eyes once more, a soft smile on her face as she raised a finger to her lips. Amelia could not turn her gaze away, she could not move or speak. She could only wait for the end to come.

When the girl was a mere fifty meters away, 19 aurors simultaneously commenced the attack. Jets of red and purple, balls of orange and yellow, waves of force and bolts of fire, all flew unerringly to the target, detonating and shattering the silence of the night. Not taking any chances, the spellfire continued without pause for a full minute. Nothing could have survived that onslaught.

When a gentle breeze blew the smoke and dust away, they found the girl uninjured. The soil around her had been rent to pieces, gouged out in great chunks, or simply vaporized. But not a speck of dirt smudged her white dress. There was a bemused smile on her face, taunting them.

Getting over his momentary shock, the head auror yelled: "Take aim, killing curse only, fire!" 19 bolts of green death shrieked through the still air and struck true. The girl was untouched. She tilted her head to the side in apparent confusion and asked: "Is that all?" Wands dropped from nerveless fingers and one poor soul began to babble incoherently to himself. "Very well. Now it's my turn."

One instant she was half the length of a football pitch away, arms at her sides, the next she was before the head auror with her right arm extended to her right. A crescent of black before her marked the invisible path of her hand. The head auror slumped over, headless. A scream was heard, it almost seemed as if it was coming from a great distance, before it suddenly cut off. Eclipse's hand was buried in another auror's chest. One auror, the babbling one, shakily raised his wand and fired off a maximum power bombardment spell. A large crater formed where the vampire had been, taking the lives of two more aurors. His wand arm fell to his side, then continued to fall until it landed on the heather. She was behind him, and three more aurors were dead. Throughout it all Amelia watched detached, no more than a spectator in her own body.

Thirty seconds later, each of which felt like an eternity, and it was done. Amelia was alone with the monster. The moon continued to burn crimson drowning the world in blood. The young auror felt her wand rise and point at the monster. A tsunami of black and crimson fire emerged and rushed outwards. With a negligent wave of her arm, Eclipse extinguished the flames. "How interesting," she said as she strode towards the last auror with a smile. "I think I like you." She patted Amelia lightly on the shoulder, then turned and walked towards the mansion. The world went dark.

Eclipse was not seen again in wizarding Britain after killing her final targets. The optimists in the ministry, which was most of them, believed that she had foolishly attempted to kill the dark lord and perished in the attempt. More realistic wizards, such as Moody and Dumbledore, believed that Voldemort most likely was the cause of her disappearance, but it was because he died just two weeks later at the tiny hands of an infant Harry Potter. With her true target dead, why remain in Britain?

These murders had caused more panic in the British magical world than the entirety of Voldemort's campaign of terror. He may have seemed unstoppable, but to take out a heavily fortified target required a large number of death eaters in addition to the dark lord himself. Eclipse had done everything solo, or so she claimed. To sneak into a highly-warded building whenever and wherever she wanted and murder the building's occupants all without a trace caused endless fear in Britain's pureblood population. When news of her final attack leaked, that fear became hysteria. No one knew exactly what happened that night other than Amelia Bones, and she would not say much. Not a single trace of the attack could be found, but neither the Blacks who lived in that manor nor the 19 other aurors who were charged with defending it were ever located. Amelia Bones, being the sole survivor, was promoted and given an Order of Merlin, Third Class.

The mass hysteria caused by Eclipse's attacks quickly caused the creation of very strong anti-creature (as designated by the Ministry, such as werewolves and vampires) bills shortly afterwards that swept through the Wizengamot with near unanimous support. It also led to Minister Bagnold's resignation and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), Barty Crouch, being reassigned to a different department as the Ministry took a lot of the blame in failing to prevent the attacks.

It also created mountains of paperwork for Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and also the Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot. All three were full-time jobs and required constant attention. All three had far more work required than usual in the wake of Eclipse's chaos and the defeat of Voldemort. It was so bad that Dumbledore barely managed to clear an hour to settle Harry with the Dursleys. If he had had more time, he would have done things properly and visited in the morning. But the hour of midnight had been the only time he found where he was not required in a meeting of some sort for the next week, and thus had to make do.

In fact, it took nearly three years for Dumbledore to finish off his backlog of paperwork created by the disastrous autumn of 1981. Because of all this, it is easy to see how some things, such as Harry never reaching the Dursleys and instead being raised by public enemy no. 1, Altrouge Brunestud, known to the wizarding public as Eclipse, fell through the cracks and were not discovered for years.

July 31, 1984

Dumbledore sat back in his comfortable office chair with a sigh of contentment. He had finished his work for the day early and, for the first time in years, had a free afternoon. This was an occasion worth celebrating! So he pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey, poured himself a glass, sat back, and enjoyed the afternoon.

It had only been earlier that month that he finally managed to catch up on his work. The previous three years had been especially hectic, but it looked like things had finally settled down. He lay back, closed his eyes, and was just on the verge of falling asleep when he remembered the date: July 31st. It was Harry Potter's birthday today and he would be turning 4. He wondered how Harry was doing with the Dursleys before deciding to go check. The Headmaster had been unable to do so earlier because of time constraints, but now would be an excellent time to make sure the kid was fine.

Dumbledore had no doubt that it would be difficult to find time to check on Harry himself in the future due to his work, so after his check up today he'd relegate the task to another. Arabella Figg would be a good choice. She was a squib who lived in the muggle world so she could move into the area to keep an eye on Harry and make sure that he didn't get into too much trouble. But first, it was time to visit himself! And with that, the old man stood up, disillusioned himself, and apparated to Privet Drive with a soft pop.

The street had not changed since he last visited. The houses still all looked the same with every yard immaculate, and fancy cars in every driveway. After a quick sweep in order to get his bearings, Dumbledore moved around to the back of the Dursley's house where he could easily see into the yard and building to watch young Harry and ensure his wellbeing.

He saw Mrs. Dursley often as he watched. She tended to stay in the kitchen, but often peaked through the curtains to spy on her neighbors. Young Dudley Dursley made several appearances, mostly to beg for food from his mother, not that he needed more. He appeared more beach-ball than human and his rather spherical physique could not have been healthy.

As time went on, Dumbledore became worried. He had been watching for over an hour now and he still hadn't sighted Harry. Perhaps he was out at a friend's house that day, or had been taken somewhere by Mr. Dursley. As the afternoon wore on and transitioned into evening, his worry transformed from a nebulous feeling of unease into a knot in the pit of his stomach. Despite his dislike for interfering with the lives of others, he would have to go ask them himself about the boy.

Wait a second, the wards! He had set up some powerful intent-based blood wards when he left the infant here, if the wards were operating at full strength, then Harry was fine.

There were no wards. None whatsoever. He could not even find the slightest trace of magic around the house. Dumbledore's heart dropped down to his stomach when he realized that, and he began to feel nauseous. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This could not be happening! The wards HAD To be there; perhaps he just wasn't looking hard enough.

Wait! He had tied many of his instruments to spells he placed on Harry to ensure his safety. They would surely inform him of what was occurring! And with that Dumbledore apparated back to his office.

They didn't work. Not a single one of the devices was functional. He hadn't noticed earlier because he had been so dreadfully busy. All of his spells had failed. It was possible, of course, that the spells and the wards had simply failed with time and needed to be recast- they had been something of a rush job. After all, Dumbledore had had only an hour to set it all up and drop Harry off at the Dursley's once Madam Pomfrey had finished checking him for injuries.

Or perhaps they had not failed, but had simply been deemed unnecessary by their magic. The threat was over; the remaining death eaters were inactive and would not bother hunting down a child. He was no longer in any real danger. The Dursley's might not want to look after him anymore, and if that was the case he could put him in the care of his godfather Sirius Black. Dumbledore had not heard from Black since that fateful night, but believed that he had left for the continent in grief, wanting to get away from tragic memories.

No one had informed him of Sirius' arrest and imprisonment, and he may not have noticed even if they had as he was so busy at the time. As it was, because they threw Sirius into Azkaban without a trial, the Wizengamot was never called to attend a trial. Everyone believed that Albus Dumbledore was aware of what had occurred and, by his silence, agreed with the imprisonment. He had, after all, set up the fidelius charm that had protected the Potters and thus knew who the secret keeper was. The fact that no one had actually bother to confirm the secret keeper's identity with him or inform him of Sirius' arrest and imprisonment, sans-trial, was just another example of the massive incompetence of the Ministry of Magic.

And so, around six in the evening on July 31st, 1984, Albus Dumbledore found himself once more on Privet Drive in front of the Dursley's house, this time knocking on their door. A large man with a moustache and a thick beefy neck answered. He gave the impression that you were looking at some sort of odd humanoid walrus. Upon seeing the elderly wizard before him and taking in his odd clothing the man's face started breaking out in odd red blotches before he finally spoke.

"What do you want old man?"

"Ah, you must be Vernon Dursley, Petunia's husband. I am merely here to inquire about the wellbeing of your nephew."

"Nephew? I have no nephew."

"Surely you must be mistaken. Does not the name Harry Potter ring any bells?"

"Nope, now get off my porch before I call the police to return you to the asylum." And with that Vernon slammed the door in the headmaster's face.

After getting over his shock that he had been so rudely turned away, Dumbledore knocked again, and again, and again. Finally a few minutes later Vernon opened the door again.

"Didn't you hear me first time you barmy old coot? Leave!"

"Ah, wait just one moment," Dumbledore said attempting to remain polite, "there appears to be some sort of misunderstanding here."

"I'll say," the oversized main said with a snort.

"You see your nephew Harry's parents died on Halloween almost three years ago."

"And? What does that have to do with me?"

"I was exceedingly busy at the time and was unable to spare much time to see him placed with a new family. As your wife is his closest living blood relative, I decided to send him here. However being exceedingly busy, and only able to escape my duties for a short time in the middle of the night, I was unable to hand him over directly, so I left him here."

"Here? On my doorstep?"

"Yes. He was quite safe as the protective wards were up and there were warming charms woven into his blankets. You should have found him on the morning of November 2nd."

Vernon snorted again rolling his eyes, clearly not believing the odd man before him saying "Nope never saw the kid. Now if you are done, why don't you go pester someone else freak. We don't like your kind being around here." Before once more rudely slamming the door in Dumbledore's face.

He could faintly hear Petunia asking who it was and Vernon's reply of "just some freak, no need to worry about it."

Well that was it, wasn't it? Harry was not there. Harry had never been there. Someone must have whisked him away in the early hours of November 2nd.

Later that night

Hogwart's Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall knocked three times on the headmaster's door without receiving an answer, which was very odd as Dumbledore always called his visitors in before they had even managed to knock once. She had with her some important documents regarding the school's budget that needed to be approved.

'Dumbledore must be out on urgent business,' she surmised, 'I'll just leave the documents on his desk for later.'

The sight that greeted the venerable witch was not the one she had anticipated. Dumbledore was slumped forward on his desk, apparently asleep, with two bottles of Campbell's Finest Old Whisky before him, one already empty. It was clear that the headmaster had been drinking heavily that evening, which was very out of character for him, but explained why he had not noticed her arrival.

"Really Albus, I know you are happy that you finally caught up with your paperwork but this is taking things too far."

"S'not why Imma beeen drinkin'."

So he was awake, just not very coherent.

"What was that Albus? You will need to speak up."

"Made big mis'take yearsh ago…" Albus raised his head off the table slightly and attempted to focus on McGonagall. "Jus' learn'd about it toda.. towd… now. A few hoursh ago."

"And what mistake would require that our illustrious headmaster drink himself into a stupor?"

"Ha'rry Po'er. He's missin."

"I beg your pardon? I almost thought you said that Potter was missing."

"I did say that," Dumbledore replied, his words gaining some clarity. "Jus' this afternoon I wen' down to Pete.. Petu.. Pert…? His aunt's house. Harry wasn' there. Had nev'r been there. He's gone Minerva an' I can' find him. No wards, no nuffin."

"Gone? How horrible, whatever shall we do?"

"Send young Sirius a lett'r. He m'ght have 'im."

"Albus… you have had far too much to drink if you have forgotten that."

"Forgott'n wha?"

"Sirius is in Azkaban."

"WHAT!?" Dumbledore thundered suddenly standing, sober once more.

"He was put into Azkaban only a few days after Harry was orphaned for betraying his parents and murdering poor Pettigrew."

"Betraying the Potters? But he never did that! Pettigrew was the secret keeper, we used Sirius as a decoy!"

"Wait, what?"

"I cast the Fidellius charm myself. Why in the world is the poor lad in Azkaban?"

"But… didn't you know?"

"No! No one ever told me! I had assumed that Sirius had simply left for the mainland as he did not want to be reminded of painful memories!"

"But surely you testified against him at the trial and that's why he's locked up, right?"

"What trial? I would have remembered it if there was one and ensured that he never went anywhere near that blasted prison." Sitting heavily Dumbledore placed his head in his hands and quietly continued: "Yet another mistake. Perhaps I'm not fit for all of this anymore."

McGonagall had also taken a seat during the Headmaster's outburst and was now pouring herself a glass of whisky.

"It's time I retired, Minerva."

"Retired?"

"I have made some egregious errors; it seems I am no longer fit as I once was. I should resign immediately."

Flabbergasted at the sudden turn, the Transfiguration Professor could only gape at him.

"Yes, I have been in this position for far too long. It is time a younger and more able wizard took over."

"But Albus, you can't be serious!"

"Look at me, I am about to turn 104 and here I am trying to do three jobs that should belong to younger and more able people and managed to mangle all of them."

"Albus, you've been doing a marvelous job! How can you even say that?"

"Harry is gone, possibly dead. Sirius is in prison. The ministry has been pushing yet more laws through that strip rights from the muggleborn and the so-called 'dark creatures'. Internationally a civil war has broken out between magicals in the USSR and the ICW is deadlocked on the issue. Meanwhile we have not managed to keep a defense teacher for more than a single year in nearly two decades, and Binns is still teaching. Anyone with even a modicum of competence would have done better. Thus, I resign."

"I won't allow it."

"Minerva?"

"Don't interrupt me. Yes, things are bad and yes, you have massive responsibilities in the parties responsible for such things, but I have had enough of your moping about it. Where is the man full of fire who has lead the wizarding world for decades? Where is the man who would not just sit back and allow this to happen but fight against it with all of his might? Where did he go?"

"He was killed by the paperwork."

"Nonsense. It is now clear that holding all three jobs at once is too much for any single person to deal with, but what alternatives are there? If you stepped down who would take your place? Malfoy? Nott? Parkinson? Leaving without any warning like you have proposed would create a power vacuum and make the situation exponentially worse. Find someone worthy to take over for you and focus your energy on a single job."

"You really think that we can salvage the situation?"

"Of course, I have complete faith in your ability to do so."

"Thanks Minny, I'm glad I have you here. Now, we have much to do this evening so let's get started."

August 2nd, 1984. Azkaban Prison.

"Sirius Black," the headmaster started with a sigh, "I am sorry about all of this. I never learned you never received a trial. In fact, I did not even know that you had been imprisoned until a few days ago, no one saw fit to inform me. Of course, that is no excuse, I should have found out myself. I was so busy putting out fires and dealing with chaos at the time that I simply assumed you had left for the continent." He said wearily.

Sirius, who had been struck dumb by the unexpected appearance of Dumbledore, finally managed to find his voice, "Harry," he croaked out, "How is my godson doing?"

"And that leads us to the other purpose of my visit. I don't know."

Sirius looked at the old man uncomprehending. How could he not know, Hagrid had taken the child to him!

"I brought young Harry to the Dursleys..."

He was cut off by a sudden yell as Sirius leapt up. "What! Why would you do that? They are the last people he should have gone to."

"I know of their dislike for magic, but at the time there was no better choice. They would not coddle Harry or let his fame get to his head as a wizarding family would, but they would not mistreat him either."

"You are wrong about that headmaster. They did not dislike magic; they hated it with a passion. I heard Lily rant about her sister and her whale of a husband enough to know that. The Dursleys would have done anything to try to be rid of Harry's 'freakishness', even beat it out of him! How could you even think of putting him there?"

Dumbledore sighed, yet another mistake to add to his long list. He really should have listened to Minerva when she had said they were "the worst sort of muggles."

"I was going to place him there as they are his closest relatives. This enabled me to set up some very powerful blood ward protections for Harry that would keep him safe from discovery or harm. I had not thought of him being mistreated by his relatives, who would be callous enough to harm an innocent child? But enough of that, it seems we have had a blessing in disguise for Harry is not with the Dursleys, and in fact was never with them."

"How can that be? You said you left him with them."

"I do not know. Like I said, things were so hectic at the time that I was never informed of your imprisonment. I just went to check on him a few days ago as his birthday finally reminded me to do so and he was not there. Never was there. My only guess is that when I left him on their doorstep, don't interrupt Sirius, let me finish. My only guess is that someone else took him after I had left. I hadn't the time to do more than set up the wards and leave him there with a letter and some warming charms. In hindsight I should have visited in the morning to ensure they took him in and were aware of the situation."

Dumbledore looked every one of his 104 years at the moment,

"Anyway," he continued composing himself, "my tracking and monitoring charms are all down so I have no idea where he is. I do, at least, know that he is alive as his name remains on the Hogwarts grimoire along with all future students. We will just have to wait until his 11th birthday to find out where he is and hope that he has been kept in good hands."

Sirius was understandably upset at this, but there was nothing that could be done at the moment.

"Now, as I have so often been reminded these past few days, I am old and no longer fit to lead. Unfortunately there is no one to take my place, which is the only reason I have not yet quit the Wizengamot. Frank Longbottom would have done very well, but he and his wife are permanently stuck in St. Mungo's after Bellatrix attacked them. His mother, Augusta, would also do well, but she is rather old herself. Almost anyone else would quickly be supplanted by Malfoy or one of his allies, and that would be a disaster. So you are going to be my successor."

"Come again, I'm sure I just misheard that last part."

"You did not mishear; you will be the next Chief Warlock."

Sirius burst out laughing and fell to the floor. A few minutes he finally gained control of himself and was able to speak. "Me? You think I'll be the next Chief Warlock? I haven't heard a joke that good in years!"

"I am quite serious right now," Dumbledore said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I know that you are currently a prisoner, but do remember that I was the one to cast the Fidelius charm and am well aware that you were not the secret keeper. With my position as Chief Warlock and my testimony, it should be easy to finally have your trial and freedom. As for you becoming my successor, you are a Black and were born into politics no matter how much you might dislike it. After your recovery from your stay in this vile place, I will train you myself and step down in a few years when you are ready. After that you will work to improve our society and revoke some of the laws that I carelessly let through over the past few years while I will focus on Hogwarts and return it to greatness."

July 20th, 1991

Dumbledore was nervous. Today the letters to new students were being written and he would finally discover what had become of the wayward Potter. He had done much in the last few years since vacating his role in politics in order to better run the school.

The school had seen a drastic reduction of quality during the war and he had been so busy with the cleanup afterwards that it did not recover. It was not until years later, once Dumbledore had resigned his position on the Wizengamot, that he realized just how much Hogwarts had declined. Dumbledore immediately began reworking the curriculum so that they could once more declare that Hogwarts was the best school in the world, and it be truth. There were several long overdue staffing changes that had to be made, such as the permanent removal of Binns, finding a way around the "defense against the dark arts curse" (he had high hopes for young Quirrel), and reassigning Snape to only teach the upper years, along with numerous other changes to greatly improve the school's quality.

And now it was finally complete. The stone was safely protected in the bowels of the school behind the most powerful magical defenses possible. All the teaching positions were filled and the incoming class had more than 70 students, the largest incoming class since the late 70's. The only thing left was Potter.

The magic quill that addressed all the letters to prospective students began moving. It would be a while before Potter's name came up. He wondered how the boy was. Hopefully whoever had taken him from the Dursley's porch had provided him a nice family. Dumbledore could only hope that a death eater had not gotten their hands on young Harry, or worse, a magus.

After a surprisingly brief wait, the quill wrote out this address:

Mr. H. Potter Brunestud

Lab 3-A

The Clock Tower

London

Dumbledore had only one response to this news and exclaimed: "Pickled nudibranch eyes!"

-End Chapter 9-

Author's Note:

Insert your nonsensical swear of choice at the end of this chapter. The odder, the better. It is Dumbledore after all. The Elder Swear is also a valid choice.