A/N: Okay, mates! This is my last update for the day. We are going to switch characters for this one. MAJOR plot info in this one. Read on and enjoy! Please R&R!
"This is quite impressive," Dumbledore mumbled, looking down at the wide open book that was spread over top of a heap of unread papers that littered his desk. On the pages, the book displayed the images and a conversation spoken nonchalantly between two Deatheaters. The spell was simple and effective—in other words, it was pure genius. Again, Dumbledore prodded the page, listening intently to the conversation again as the people in front of him looked on tensely. "And this information was gathered by young Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?" He inquired, looking over his half-moon spectacles at Sirius Black.
"Yes," Sirius confirmed, continuing to pace along one of the many knick knack filled shelves.
"What were they doing out of bounds?" Minerva McGonagall asked, appalled that anyone could risk a visit to the village when they were all on strict lockdown.
"They were trying to spy on the Deatheaters to see if they could find out anything about the Lily and James's situation," Sirius explained.
The headmaster gave him a knowing look. "Alas, though I do not approve of their methods, I cannot say I am not glad that they made this discovery. It appears that we have a double agent in our midst that is leaking valuable information. Apparently, it was also someone who knows a great deal about the school. I do certainly have my suspicions on who that might be, but I would be happy to entertain some suggestions." He peered silently around at the six people on the other side of his desk.
James shook his head, putting an arm around his wife. Any of the possibilities he could come up with in his head seemed as unlikely as the next. Sirius, Remus, Peter and he were among the few that knew about the passages. Remus had been dead for a little over three months. That left Sirius and Peter, since he knew himself to be innocent, but he could no more suspect either of them then suspect himself. He trusted the two completely. The three remaining marauders exchanged reassuring glances to one another before looking to Molly, the mother of the only two known others that knew of the passage. She looked obviously offended.
"You are not suggesting that the twins—"
But Dumbledore cut across her, trying to quell the situation before it began. "Molly, dear, I don't think that any of us are suggesting that Fred and George had anything to do with this. We cannot go about accusing the few people that we can trust of betrayal. I agree that the news is disturbing, but anyone could be responsible. I would trust that we are not arrogant enough to think that our small pool of people are only people to know the secrets of Hogwarts. What we should focus on now is not accusation, but gathering more information." He cleared his throat audibly, calling Sirius's pacing to a halt. "Now, I don't think that these kids had a bad idea about gathering information in this manner. The Deatheaters are becoming more and more cocky and careless by the day. I think it would be a good idea to put some people on this. Who do we have to spare?"
McGonagall looked down a list that she had clutched on her lap. "It looks like we have Nyphadora Tonks available, as well as Dedelus Diggle. Perhaps they could take shifts?"
"That sounds like a fitting plan." He clapped his hands together and stood. "Now, I would like to thank you all for coming here tonight. I think that will be all. I will see you all at the meeting on Friday."
Nodding and murmuring farewells, the small group began to file out of the office. James and Lily caught Sirius at the door and immediately began to whisper concerns as they went through the door.
Dumbledore waited until everyone had left before slumping back into his chair. He removed his spectacles and massaged the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. Nothing, it seemed was ever easy. He let his mind wander back seventeen years pervious to the Three Broomsticks and a particularly disturbing interview with a frazzled witch who seemed to be a very incompetent seer. He remembered how her muscles had become ridged and she had delivered the prophecy that had seemed so important. From that moment, he had taken it into his own hands to call take as many precautions as possible to protect the Potters and the Longbottoms, yet his gut had led him to believe that it would surely be the Potters that he chose.
Not for the first time, Dumbledore had been wrong.
Voldemort had chosen the Longbottoms.
The call had been devastating. Frank and Alice had been killed in the middle of the night. Unlike the Potters, they had not been granted the protection of the Fidelius Charm. It wasn't needed. There was no way that he would choose them. Though the Longbottoms were as powerful, it seemed more logical that James, Lily, and Harry were more tempting targets. Yet the Longbottoms had been chosen. They had fallen. And, Voldemort had destroyed the baby boy with out more then a flick of his wand and the muttering of a curse. Dumbledore remembered arriving on the scene and seeing the darkmark floating ominously above the ruins of their house, casting its haunting green glow over the neighborhood. But for him, the mark did not only mean that three tragic deaths had take place, but also that hope for a wizard who would one day take Voldemort out as his equal, had been lost in the rubble as well. So, he had doubled the protection of the Potter Family, though the enemy that might have been was never to be. The prophecy had been fulfilled. Harry was safe. The Fidelius Charm over the Potters held, with Remus as their secret keeper.
Then, not four years ago, the old headmaster had received a tip from a very cowardly source. It was on a very dark and unusually dreary summer's night that a very drunk Horace Slughorn had knocked on the door of Dumbledore's home. Dumbledore had ushered him in with concern rising. It had been years since he had seen the man. This was quite a surprise. Horace kept saying over and over again, "It's all my fault! It's all my fault!"
Only after hours of coaxing had Dumbledore been able to glean from the portly man the devastating truth of the great lengths his enemy had gone to in order to reach immortality. Horace Slughorn had for many years been the sole living person who knew the secret to Lord Voldemort's undoing and he hadn't even known it. Perhaps all hope wasn't lost.
Upon learning of Voldemort's Horcruxes, Dumbledore had immediately jumped to action, desperately trying to equalize the playing field so that if not he, then someone, might one day rid the world of the greatest evil it had ever known. From early on, he had decided to go about the mission on his own. The importance forbade him from allowing anyone to help him. If they were somehow betrayed, and Voldemort were notified that his secret had been revealed, there might be no stopping him. Only occasionally did he enlist the help of others, when he couldn't accomplish the tasks on his own. But none of them ever knew what they were doing for long. No one could parallel the Headmaster at memory spells. He hated corrupting his followers minds, but what choice had he? Dumbledore would not trust that information to anyone, no matter how loyal they appeared to be.
His suspicions seemed to be well founded when several months earlier, Remus Lupin—secret keeper to the Potters—had been killed in an undercover mission by his very creator: Fenrir Greyback. Upon his death, Remus's secret keeper status had been passed down to all those who over the course of the years had been entrusted with the Potter's location. It was a very short list, needless to say. So when James had encounter with a group of Deatheaters less than a week later, and they had mentioned how pretty Lily looked when she slept, Dumbledore's worst fears had been confirmed. The Potters had uprooted themselves and a new charm had recently been cast, but that didn't discount the fact that there was a spy in the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps Voldemort knew nothing of why the Potters had been hidden, but it wouldn't take him long to connect their eldest son to the long dead prophecy. To be quite frank, Dumbledore had no idea what the man would do with such information. So, to keep the family safe, he had moved the family, still keeping secret of the prophecy that could have been from them.
Yes, there was a spy among them. If he had not been sure before, the dialogue he had heard only minutes ago seemed to confirm the presence of a spy conclusively.
Dumbledore replace his spectacles once more and closed the heavy tome, placing it in a top drawer of his desk as he pondered the next move of the Dark Lord. Would he go after the Potters? It was likely that, given the chance, Voldemort would move to remove the threat no matter how remote it was. And, with numbers of Voldemort-opposition at an all time low, the Order could not afford to lose them.
Letting a long and exhausted sigh escape him, Dumbledore moved towards his room, hoping that after a good night sleep, the morning sun would bring with it a twinkle of enlightenment in the shadows of doubt.
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