Chapter One: Explanations
"I thought it would be you," the old headmaster said. His voice was as even as it had always been, but the bright sparkle behind his blue eyes betrayed his deep seeded emotions.
The man on the floor was the first to come to his senses. "Professor Dumbledore…Albus? Is that you?"
Dumbledore dipped his head affirmatively. "Who else, my boy?"
The woman beside the shocked man looked around. "But how? It can't be!"
The wry smile that the old wizard was so famous for appeared. "If you will follow me to my office, I will try to explain." Dumbledore turned to the door, but the man stopped him.
"Wait a moment. We aren't going anywhere until you prove you are who you say you are. Tell us something only Albus Dumbledore would know."
"No. Summon Fawkes," his wife – for that was who the woman was – interrupted.
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes grew brighter. "As you wish." He closed his eyes and the next second the couple sprang back from the flash of fire that marked the entrance of the famed phoenix.
The couple relaxed noticeably at the sight and the feeling of warmth created by the phoenix's strong song. Dumbledore noticed the softness and started again.
"Please follow me to my office. There is less chance of interruptions."
After a silent, but meaningful, communication between the man and the woman, they followed the headmaster.
Dumbledore studied his guests for a moment before saying, "You must have some questions –"
"What happened?" the man interrupted, running his hands through his black crop forcefully, making his already messy hair even worse. The calming effect of Fawkes's song had long-since worn off and the bird hadn't sung again.
Dumbledore sat back in his chair and steeped his fingers. "First I must ask you what you remember last."
The couple shared a glance before the woman spoke. "I remember him. He tried to get me away from -- oh God--!"
"He is alive," Dumbledore reassured her before nodding for her to continue.
The woman smiled faintly in relief before she took a deep breath and continued her story. "Then came the green light. It was so bright and--" she broke off again and her husband pulled her closer. He too remembered that light.
He pushed away the memory of it rushing toward him with the speed of a thousand years crammed into a moment. He remembered the feeling of his soul being ripped from his body and the last thought he could think before…before it took him. And he remembered the white feeling – he couldn't explain it any other way. The memory drowned out his wife's voice for a few seconds before he pushed it back.
"Then I felt this tug, like I was being pulled and a strange fuzzy feeling before I was pushed through the—?"she was saying.
"Mirror. Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore supplied. He heard the man breath in sharply at the name but decided not to comment. "Was it the same for you?" he asked instead, turning to the man.
The man yanked himself out of the trance of his realization to look at his former headmaster. He nodded. "Yeah. Exactly like that. Was it the mirror? Is that what pulled us back from-- wherever we were?"
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I believe so."
The woman looked at her husband and the old wizard in confusion. "What? How could a mirror bring us back from the dead? We were dead, weren't we, Albus?"
Again, Dumbledore nodded. "But you see, the Mirror of Erised is not just another mirror."
"In the story, it can grant a wish every hundred years, but that's just a story. Right?" the man cut in.
The woman looked even more puzzled. For the first time in a long time, she wished she'd grown up in the wizarding world like her husband. "How?"
Her husband turned to the elder wizard. "Excellent question, my flower. How Albus? The legend never says how."
"Ah, we've reached the most important question of them all. How." Dumbledore stood up and started pacing softly, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I believe that when the mage first looked into the mirror, he wished that only the wishes from a truly selfless and unassuming soul would be granted. When the mage cast the last spell, he gave it the power it needed to fulfill its tasks, no matter the difficulties."
The woman looked at her husband, a question about the legend playing on her tongue, but let it fade when she saw the look of dawning comprehension on his face.
"So you are saying someone's deepest wish was for us to return from the dead? Who was it? Sirius? Remus?"
Dumbledore returned to his seat and smiled, his eyes bouncing back to life from their momentary freezing at the man's words. "No, not them—"
"Then—" The woman stopped halfway through her interruption, having reached the answer to her own question.
Dumbledore's light smile grew a bit. "The wish was from your son: Mister Harry Potter."
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"So where do we go from here?" James Potter asked after the shock had worn off and Dumbledore had finished telling them about their son's first year at Hogwarts.
"We go see him, of course!" Lily Potter exclaimed, shocked that her husband even had to ask.
James was about to respond, but Dumbledore broke in before he could. "I'm afraid you can't."
Both Potters swung around to gape at the old headmaster. "Like hell we're not!" James said.
The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes faded. "No, James, you will. The mirror knows only the heart's deepest desires, it cannot know fate. Harry's fate is to destroy Voldemort and he can only do that by being strong. And that, he must learn through experience. Experience and self-reliance."
"So you're saying our son must be alone?" Lily's voice was shrill and spiteful.
"How could you know Harry's fate?" James asked before his wife could really show her anger.
Dumbledore was silent for a long moment before he answered. "There was a prophecy made a few months after Harry's fifth birthday."
"Another prophecy? Since when do you put any stock in prophecies, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore slowly turned to face the livid redhead, wanting to postpone the icy-green glare for as long as possible. "Since I have."
"Divination, and indeed, any magic, only has power if you believe in it," James countered angrily.
"That is true," Dumbledore conceded, bowing slightly under James's steady hazel eyes. "But it has already been set in motion, and like the prophecy from young Harry's birth, it is too late to stop it."
"Really? What makes you so sure?" Lily's frustration had curbed slightly, but her tone and icy glare made Dumbledore falter again.
"Because I have already seen it. Your son defeated Voldemort for the second time just twelve hours ago, correct?" The couple in front of him nodded, somewhat impatiently. "How do you think he did that?"
Lily answered before James could. "By his talent and luck."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Yes, but there was something else, something that Sybil Trelawney spoke about in her prophecy. Young mister Potter survived by love – the love you gave him when you died to protect him," he inclined his head in Lily's direction, "and the will to prove himself."
"Prove himself? But, Albus, he doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. We need to tell him that, don't you see? He needs to know that we love him." Lily was almost pleading now.
"Lily, I think Albus is right."
Lily shot around to glare at her husband. "You? How can you say that? How can you let your only son grow up alone?"
James winced. "I'm not saying it will be easy, or that it's even the right thing in the long-run, but for now, we must trust him."
"But why, James? Why?"
"Harry has a destiny that will not be easy to fulfill. He has shown that love is his key, his greatest strength, but he needs his ambition if he can get anywhere. I'm afraid this is the only way. Harry must discover his power by himself. Until he has, you are merely distractions."
Dumbledore's words, while spoken in a neutral tone, cut the young couple to the core. It cut through their emotions, allowing them to see the truth: Harry had to be alone.
So James and Lily Potter did the one thing they could: they left their boy alone.
A/N: As you can see, I've decided just to go ahead and post. I'm sorry for the delay, but I promised myself I wouldn't post again until I wrote another chapter. That chapter also formed into something more resembling HBP, so it seems this fic is evolving into a re-write of the sixth book. It will not have all the elements of it, however, as I hate direct lifts. I will be as new as possible. On another note, I want to give a blanket thanks to everyone who's reviewed. You know who you are, so I won't name them, but know that it was wonderful. Please keep it up!