-THE BEGINNING-
-PROLOUGUE-
-June 18th 1980, early morning-
A shadow flitted above the roads, its source a grey pinprick in the sky unseen and unnoticed by anyone below. The shadow was cast by a tawny-grew long eared owl as it made its way north over the Scottish countryside, occasionally flying over farmland, small towns, a few train tracks, and winding roads. Had anyone below been keen enough and so happened to be looking up and catch sight of said owl they would possibly be confused about why a nocturnal predator was flaying so early in the morning. They would find it odder still that the bird was seemingly caring a rolled up newspaper in its talons. By complete happenstance- or perhaps not, no one caught sight of the owl that morning, just like every other morning it was sent out to deliver its cargo.
The bird continued to flap it wings and would occasionally meet with its brethren, the further north it flew the more owls seemingly from every species known in the UK came and went at various speeds, all heading in a similar direction, each carrying some form of mail, letters, packages, or newspapers. It was somewhere in northern Scotland where the not so random flock converged flying over mountain, hill, plain, and forest. The small town of Cannich and then Lock Mullardoch passed below, empty Scottish highland stretching further ahead where at the crest of a mountain it would be easy enough to notice the stone archway facing perfectly north, its masonry of a distinct Celtic and druidic design, vines chiseled in relief wrapping around its two columns. Above the archway owls flew in groups periodically all morning fading out of sight as if passing over an invisible barrier.
Oddly enough this archway was only visible to mortal eyes if they fulfilled a certain set of requirements, a number of which the general population of the UK, and the world did not meet and therefore could be standing directly in front of the arch and see only the empty hilltops and mountains in front of them with no need to go forward before quickly losing interest and leaving. What any normal person would see from any other direction from the top of the mountain would be barren Scottish landscape an all sides, but through the archway the view was distinctly different, for through it a dirt path continued down the opposing side of the mountain and wound into a deep temperate forest with trees of abnormally large size.
This large swath of land and mountains and valleys covered in forest and a few hidden lakes had at is heart a deep loch, large castle, and quint village. The fact that the castle appeared to be in ruins, and the small medieval town near it in even worse shape was only ever through extremely coincidental and accidental events that had occurred in the last few decades to a select few people that also happened to be what witches and wizards of the UK referred to as muggles. The entire area on hidden land was not drawn on any map, nor plotted by any man, even to satellite imaging and detection it was invisible, for were any to look upon the images or data they too would see only blank land.
Because of this it could be said that the castle in its entirety was located somewhere in Northern Scotland. Where exactly that was had been long ago forgotten, but on this morning the summer sun rose over the horizon shining its golden light into a valley flanked by two large mountains and an expansive old growth forest with trees as large as redwoods. The light illuminated the glass like surface of a large and deep loch as it met the cliff-side and rose along the walls of a magnificent stone castle that would have been described by any muggle historian to be of a mixed German and French design dating back to the thirteenth century.
The bustling and picturesque town of wood and stone by the name of Hogsmeade resided in sight of the castles parapets and towers, and along its direct center stretched the town's High Street which branched off and ran up and around the Black Lake, on one side leading to a period train station with architecture from the early 1800's and on the other the wide dirt road passed through a large iron gate that was near four and a half meters tall with two winged boars mounted on a stone wall on either side. The path continued to a wide stone bridge and across a rectangular courtyard into the magnificent entrance hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The castle in its entirety seemed like it could have been built only ten years previously, for although some slight water staining and vine growth could be seen, overall the castle seemed to be quite new. In one of the higher towers of Hogwarts where only a single window could be seen resided one of the greatest and most renowned wizards in British magical history.
Dumbledore sat calmly in his plush and ornate high back leather armchair as he leaned forward and pressed his hands together in a meditative pose while slowly savoring the tangy bittersweet flavor of his favorite lemon flavored candy. He took this moment to relax and reminisce about the simpler times of his early youth as the entire week had been very busy for him interviewing candidates for the open positions of Divination, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Arithmancy, and Astronomy. He was also the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, and was left with the task of recruitment, communications between him and Order members in the DMLE, and organizing Order movements and teams while directing war efforts and resources against his wayward student Tom Riddle. Another role that took up a great amount of his time was that of the current Acting Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.
It was a good thing that the ICW, which could be seen as the wizarding version of the Muggle United Nations was mostly made up of only European nations and functioned independently as a branch of the United Magical Nations. It was hard enough to sway favor and opinion with just the congregation made up of wizards and witches representing the various European nations. Which is why Dumbledore considered himself lucky with not having to deal with the egos and policies of all the other magical governments of the UMI, which was an assembly of all wizarding governments that oversaw international trade regulations, laws, and peace treaties for the entire world.
Dumbledore was left to deal with the annual general assembly of the ICW, as Acting Supreme Mugwump he had oversight on the topics covered, the directions of the meetings themselves, and acted as the main delegator when the representatives of the many European nations got overexcited. For the last month he had succeeded in downplaying the civil war taking place in Britain with his elegant soliloquys and assurances that Voldemort was a simple criminal striking out randomly at society and that he would soon be caught. After all there was not need to incite fear or worry in other nations and blow things out of proportion. Nor did he want interference or aid from countries that were willing to intervene on Britain's behalf to take down Voldemort and his Death Eaters if events got to out of hand, they would make the Ministry of Magic look weak, and in turn make British wizards look weak. He and by extension the British wizarding populace did not need outside forces to help them, he had personally defeated Grindelwald, the time would come soon enough when he would defeat Tom. Although it was still arduous balancing his station as headmaster, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump, who else but he could guide the people of Wizarding Britain in these dark times?
Thinking back on those meetings did tend to give him quite a headache, why must wizards be so stubborn? Nevertheless he had succeeded in his endeavor in making the problems of Tom and his Death Eaters seem small in comparison to other issues.
Now Dumbledore's mind turned back to present matters. His eyes twinkled as he peered over his half-moon spectacles and observed the shawl and bead draped witch seated in front of him. Albus knew that Divination was a touchy and almost useless subject to teach, the techniques used in the ethereal arts could be taught, but only those gifted with the sight of prophetic vision could properly use them. Devoting an entire class at Hogwarts to the subject when only one in every thousand wizards or witches might possibly possess some form of divining power would serve no other purpose other than to fill in the needed class slot that had previously belonged to Ancient Studies. It was not a decision he made lightly, but like many of the hard decisions in life, it had to be done.
For his entire time as Headmaster, and previously as both the transfiguration professor and Deputy Headmaster of Armando Dippet, Dumbledore had used his already considerable and ever growing political power and social standing, as well as his vast arcane knowledge to subtly exert his will on a network of people on the Hogwarts School Board, the DMLE, the Wizengamot, and especially on the students that passed through the halls of Hogwarts and then joined the Ministry workforce after graduating. He had a hand in shaping critical decisions affecting the wizarding world, and held the ear of some very important people, often being turned to for advice because of his wisdom and power. Apart from this; and the various favors he was owed, as well as how much he regretted to say it -blackmail material he had, he had been able to have various courses slowly withdrawn from the school curriculum. Even those that had been previously taught in the walls of the castle since it was first used as a school had dwindled from an array of subjects over twenty strong to the almost now standard 13 courses. A simple few accidents or one too many anonymous complaints to the board of governors and the more dangerous classes were slowly phased out.
He knew he may be sacrificing the education of the future generations, but having lived for so long and seen the horrors that both Grindelwald and Voldemort unleashed when they strove to unravel the deeper and darker mysteries of magic had shown him a valuable lesson about power and its corrupting influence. Only the most noble with the best intentions, and the mental capacity to never fall to darkness could walk that path, thankfully he had overcome his own darkness and risen to the position of "Leader of the Light". Now thanks to his efforts, students could achieve and strive for a proper standard magical education without fear of falling into darkness in a search for such power.
Dumbledore was brought out of his musings by the rustle of feathers from his familiar causing him to glance up at the previously nervous and disheveled applicant for the newly opened Divinations position at Hogwarts; who now sat confounded in her seat, the so called "Seer" by the name of Sybil Trelawney. The previous week he had sent her a summons inviting her to his office for the interview this morning for the position as the Divinations Instructor. After hearing her knock on the thick oak doors to his office and allowing her entrance after making her wait for just a bit, Dumbledore reviewed her credentials and asked for a few displays of her knowledge.
While clearly a smart witch familiar in her art Sybil demonstrated no true ability at divination, but more disappointedly covered for this fact by her poor acting skills, which even to him seemed over the top and very similar to the act muggle diviners and palm readers put on for their audiences at fairs and circuses. Sybil did not make that image any better by her overdone outfit of colored shawls, beaded necklaces, gaudy jewelry, or the strong wafts of various incenses that assaulted his nose when she entered his office after being escorted there by Professor McGonagall (whose pinched face and frown said much about her opinion of the so called seer, the subject in general, and the displeasure of the smell made all the worse by her slightly heightened sense of smell). To Dumbledore it appeared that she had forged many aspects of her credentials while riding on the coattails and prestige of her great-great-grandmother Cassandra Trelawney the celebrated seer. Not to say he was not expecting something like that.
He had gotten halfway through the standard interview questioner he was forced to give, when a break in the conversation had allowed one of the Hogwarts house elves to serve tea and a side of biscuits. It was during this short recces, while he debated whether to end the meeting early or not that Sybil had gone still and her eyes had rolled into her skull as a barely visible pallid greed aura seemed to radiate from her eyes. Trelawney had begun to spasm and convulse in her chair before becoming like stone and turning slowly to him she opened her mouth wide, her eyes glowing a pearly white. Without moving a deep and dry echoing voice sounded from within her mouth as if from a large cavern as it seemed to echo.
With a rattling breath she began to recite a stanza in a language he could not immediately place, although certain repetitions of sounds strung together reminded him of the early Greek tongue he could not fully decipher its meaning. There was a distinct pattern and length however as Trelawney continued to repeat the same lines over and over for a few minutes in a hollow rasp. Dumbledore took the time to carefully pay attention to every syllable and commit it to memory for later review, after all it was a nigh rare thing for a real- (and not just a prediction of the short term future) true prophecy to be heard, why the last one recorded had been in in 1831!
As soon as Trelawney had finished she had immediately slumped into her seat and passed out. While she slept Dumbledore retrieved and old and battered text from his shelf that contained a translation cypher for various old languages including what he believed to be snippets of Eteocretan or Minoan, both of which the muggles had far less information on as many of the sandstone tablets containing excerpts of the dead languages were in possession of wizard scholars. Using the codex he slowly interpreted the lines as best he could into clear English. It had taken him most of the afternoon to review the memory in his pensive and unravel the prophetic message into a translation, after even that though he only had a cursory understanding of the language, he had never taken the time to study it in any detail. Sybil was left asleep and seated as Dumbledore worked her head leaning on a plush pillow he had conjured so the self-proclaimed seeres would not wake up with a cramped sore neck. He sometimes asked for the opinion of his fiery red familiar only to receive a melodious chirp or a bob of the head to every question.
It took most of the day and so the sun was setting over the mountains outside his office window as the Headmaster wrote down the results on a clean sheet of parchment while he read it over and made some final corrections so that it was comprehensible in English and only a few minutes later he was finally done.
On the parchment in front of him now lay the translated prophecy:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
Reading it over Dumbledore began to analyze its meaning, The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, well there was only one current dark lord that he knew of (more obviously so as Tom, unlike Gellert had a penchant for declaring himself the most powerful wizard and dark lord of all time in every one of their confrontations), and maybe a rival of the dark that could defeat and permanently kill Voldemort other than himself was to appear In the near future?
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, did that mean a child born in the end of July to parents that had faced Voldemort and lived three times? But what year, it must be close; it could not be a coincidence that he, Leader of The Light of all people had heard the prophecy and now of all times, now when the dark was getting ever closer, ever stronger under Voldemort's reign of terror. Who had defied The Dark Lord three times that he knew of? Dumbledore pondered for another minute about every encounter Tom had had in the open, and every direct or indirect loss he sustained before smiling; 'Yes, it had to be the Potters or Longbottoms, both couples had fought against Voldemort thrice on their own with no aid and lived to tell about it, and both were to have a male child, estimated to be born in a few months in July…'
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. 'Did that mean Voldemort would seek to destroy the child of fate, but why, why would Tom personally seek out either family if he had no knowledge of the prophecy? Apart from the fact that he took every loss as a personal affront to his power and would seek to destroy anyone in his way why would he specifically seek out and mark the chosen one… was it possible the Dark Lord was meant to have knowledge of the prophecy, a clue? But how would Tom possibly get that information if only he knew about it. There was implication that his student would somehow acquire the knowledge to fulfill his role in the prophecy, therefore there would have to be a leek somehow, for how else would the Dark Lord plan for something he would never even suspect with the way he was winning his war on magical Britain? '
Dumbledore pondered for a moment before arriving at the simplest conclusion; it seemed he would have to pass on the information in the prophecy somehow, in a way so that it seemed both legitimate, and not coincidental. Tom was no fool, any hint that this was a part of some machination of Dumbledore's and he would never take the information as fact. After a few minutes of deep contemplation Dumbledore's brilliant mind had already devised a plan.
It was known to him that various previous Hogwarts students, most notably those from Slytherin- though a few came from other houses, had joined Voldemort's circle of followers and become one of his so called "Death Eaters." Thanks to his brother It was also known that a few passed through Hogsmeade as both recruiters and scouts for students as well as being sent to spy on him and pick up any information on his own activities. Dumbledore would need to set up a mock interview with Trelawney and have a Death Eater catch at least part of the prophecy, translated of course. The acting had to be superb, the timing perfect, the delivery exact. Tom had only ever taking a passing glance of interest in divination, but knew enough about the subject to know it was a real but dying art. Therefor the setup would have to be in such a way as to provide enough information to catch his attention and cause him to act on what might come to pass in an effort to control the outcome or possibly prevent it, but not enough to let him have the needed foreknowledge to prevent its ultimate outcome being his defeat. However this would also mean that he would have to hire the woman to keep her safe within the castle walls. Voldemort in turn would use the information he gathered and make his own choice.
The entire thing was mute if the child Tom picked did survive, the fore precautions must be put into place as soon as possible to bend the hand of fate. Tom would learn of the prophecy, use the information he had, act on it, and if Dumbledore predicted correctly personally oversee the matters of derailing the prophecy before it could be come to pass. The child, it mattered not who he picked for both Potter or Longbottom had old blood in their veins and a strong magical history made them both equally likely candies. In the end it would be up to Voldemort who he marked with his choice.
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. Dumbledore read the last part and was puzzled over the wording and its meaning for quite a while. Trelawney began to stir before he lazily stunned her out of reflex for the third time that day putting her out again while he reviews his notes once more. 'Hmm, one had to kill the other, or allow for his defeat, directly or indirectly as {must die at the hand of the other} could be taken both literally or figuratively. On the surface it seemed that the phrase made sense, but upon further thinking it became clear as being self-contradictory. If neither the chosen one nor Voldemort lives, then by logical deduction, the second phrase {while the other survives}is certainly false. Similarly, if either the chosen one or Tom survives, than it follows that the first phrase {neither can live} is logically false. While even one of them lived the prophecy would still be in effect, meaning that in the end one must die at the other's hands, ensuring the prophecy is fulfilled and allowing him to move on with his plans. But what was the true definition of neither can live while the other survives?
Did the word count metaphorically or literally… and what about the part about either must die and the hand of the other; must, not will… could that be used as an obligation, or a circumstantial motive, or was it a definitive answer and or an essential requirement. Did it mean that only they could die by the others direct actions, or did it mean they could not die unless they killed each other, a loop of immortality that neither would want to escape into death?
He had to influence the outcome of this to be the most favorable one present; as much as he hated to think it the good of the many must outweigh the good of the few. What was the life of one child compared to all the lives in the UK, he was a general, this was a war, and if a few lives had to be sacrificed to set up Voldemort's ultimate demise so be it. Either way he would see to it that nothing was spared to chance; all resources available would be used to end this thrice damned war before it could spill over to the muggle side. If the Potters or Longbottoms perished by Voldemort's he would honor their sacrifice and use their assets to fund the Light's own operations and their political capital to set his place in the Ministry as needed. The Potter or Longbottom child would be a candidate for the prophecy, either one would work, but it was Voldemort's choice that would be the deciding factor, whoever he tried to kill by his own hand would need to be marked as his equal. No matter how much it pained him to do so If he had to sacrifice a pureblood family like the Potters or Longbottoms to allow for the assured defeat of Voldemort to eventually occur then it needed to be made.
If as Dumbledore suspected Voldemort tried to kill the child with the killing curse as was his modus operandi he would have to plan to set failsafe's in place for an event that had a high probability of occurring, after all magic worked in mysterious ways, and the use of such a spell* might have unexpected outcomes due to the prophecy itself. The final question left to answer was which child was most likely to be attacked. At first thought it was the magically strong and historically pureblood line, the Longbottoms, but then again Voldemort had always feared what he could not control and disliked, he was a half-blood, so by order of logic based on facts few if any were privy to he would secretly think the Potter child to be the most danger, maybe seeing a part of himself in the child.
It was likely though that as a contingency he might send his death eaters to kill the other family anyways, but he would take care of the Potter child personally. Either way he would need to set up failsafe's in case of either outcome, but Dumbledore would be willing to bet a bushels worth of lemon drops that his first guess was correct, after all, he was usually never wrong. With this in mind Dumbledore turned towards the two more present problems, how was Voldemort to attack the soon to be born Harry Potter and how would the "Prophecy" be overheard?
- Mar 05th 1980, evening-
Dumbledore savored the sweet and tangy flavor of his preferred candy as he exited his room, a room only ever seen by the Headmasters of Hogwarts that was located through a hidden and warded passage behind the bookcase near his desk. He continued to suck on the lemon drop as the spiral staircase topped with the large bronze eagle statue descended down the cylindrical fore room and quietly walked out past the enchanted gargoyle guarding the main entrance to his office, his lavender high heeled boots with the toes styled after Persian slippers were near silent on the stone floor. The headmaster strolled through the empty corridors and hidden passageways of the ancient castle of Hogwarts. Seeing as it was summer break and the children were all at home; the halls were oddly muted and silent, a relaxing atmosphere to the usual noise of young witches and wizards bustling to class. The soft padding of his boots echoed down the halls while he made his way down to the main entrance of the school. As he pased the main gates toped wither their winged hogs Dumbledore reviewed the information his brother Aberforth had sent him about the slight increase in activity by black-hooded individuals in his tavern leading up to tonight, it was obvious someone had taken the bait then.
Tonight he would seemingly be interviewing Sybil Trelawney for the first time. After he had obliviated her and sent her on her way with a few subliminal thoughts planted in her subconscious through the expert use of confundus and Legilimency so that she would return for her meeting with the him Dumbledore had then subtly nudged Hagrid to leak the information of his personal and rare out of office interview out in one of his drunken babbling sessions that he was prone to at the Hog's Head Inn. It was a rare occasion that Dumbledore visited Hogsmeade, and rarer still he would privately interview someone outside the castle, the fact he was doing so now would draw the interest of shady characters. Now that the bait was set he would spring the trap and begin the events that would lead to the fall of Voldemort. He would lead the light to triumph over the growing darkness, and his legacy would ensure the Greater Good lived on even after his death.
It took him another half hour to reach the small quaint town of Hogsmeade, just in time to watch the sun begin to set over the horizon and the stars to begin twinkling in the night sky. Dumbledore silently cast a disillusionment charm over his body so as to not gather any attention from any of the village's residents, and soon enough he arrived at his destination, the grimy and dark looking Hog's Head Inn. Albus casually walked up the door and waited for the disguised Order member that was to give him entrance. As the Order member, wrapped in a cloak and shawl to appear unrecognizable departed and let the door swing wide he entered silently through the open doorway and up to the bar where he gently knocked on the bar surface three times barley loud enough for his brother to take notice. Aberforth glanced in his direction and nodded once, signaling that Sybil Trelawney had already arrived and that one of Voldemort's spies was already in the bar. A subtle twitch of his eye indicated said individual slouching in the corner pretending to have a pint.
As soon as Dumbledore made his way into the back room he canceled the disillusionment and paused just long enough for the cloaked and hooded individual who was paying the hallway an inordinate amount of attention to notice. Dumbledore made his way up the stairs to the second room, which was a small parlor and pushed the door open to reveal the shawled witch sitting in one of the high backed wooden chairs. He stepped into the room and gently closed the door while simultaneously casting locking charms and detection wards before suppressing his magical aura and signature through pure skill and then turning to fully face the seer.
"Ahh, good evening, Mis Trelawney, I see that you were able to arrive safely." Dumbledore smiled affably as he sat opposite the witch.
"Well yes, Headmaster, one cannot be too cautious in these troubled times, but my inner eye predicted that I would of course arrive without harm." She replied, the twinkle in the headmasters eyes going unnoticed.
"Yes well now, I'm was very busy today and do apologize for the late meeting time and local, however without meaning to offend my dear I do have a few other duties to attend to tonight so shall we get started?" Dumbledore replied. Unknown to the black cloaked figure in the hall using an eavesdropping charm both the Dumbledore brothers knew exactly what he was doing, and by the end of the night after having been kicked out of the Hog's Head when he was caught snooping he had fled to his master to give him the information he had overheard.
It was too bad for him it would be the single worst decision of his life.
