Sullen Fate

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer; No, I do not own HP.

Chapter 3: Demands

"Golly, what's one to do when the sky comes a' falling?"

The Order meeting slowly came to a close as weepy witches and rowdy wizards gratefully babbled their thanks and praise to an understanding Headmaster before departing the office by Floor. A sad glint flashed across Dumbledore's eyes as he returned the thanks and sincerely wished his fellow members out. This was it - the end of the Order of the Phoenix. The war against Voldemort was over. There was no longer a need for such rebellious vigilantes group to exist any longer.

Or was there?

Voldemort might have been defeated; however, there was always a chance that another Dark Lord would raise in his place. A tired wry smile grew upon Dumbledore's face. 'Would the world ever truly know the meaning of peace?' he thought sadly. 'Shall every generation have to suffer because of one man's ambition? Or another's faults?' He shook his head as he wallowed in his pain.

"Albus? Are you alright?" questioned Lily, as she placed a worried hand upon Dumbledore's sleeve. When the man failed to respond, she asked with mounting worry, "Are you sick? Do you need a med-witch?

Dumbledore shook his head and pulled himself out of his trance. "No, Lily. I'm fine," he said gently, as he beckoned the Potters to take a seat. "I was…just contemplating the past."

James nodded, as he took a seat to the right of Lily. Reaching over he gave his wife's hand a gentle comforting squeeze, with which she returned. "I understand, Albus," he said quietly. "The war has stolen a lot from us. All of us."

The headmaster gave James a pitying glance. "Especially from your family," he said softly. "You and Lily sacrificed very much to raise and guide young Nate. He has become something beyond understanding; he is as pure as the sun; he is…Light." Dumbledore gave them a faint smile. "You have been great parents."

Lily flushed with embarrassment. "Thank you, Albus. Though, I have to admit, our son would not have been able to reach his full potential had it not been for your guidance. Nate's success is the result of all of our influences."

"Very well said," stated Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with pride. "But we must not forget how much your late son's tragic…departure influenced young Nate. The boy loved his brother and it was this love that allowed him to defeat Voldemort."

A short awkward silence permeated the room, as the elder Potters shifted uncomfortably. "Yes…Harry," James finally said. "Nate idolized his older brother; Harry was everything to him…"

Dumbledore's eyes flickered with sadness.

Lily chewed her lip nervously, as she carefully phrased her next words. "However, there are times when I'm…afraid for him, Albus," she admitted softly. "Nate looks up to Harry's memory far too much. It is not healthy. Make no mistake, I believe that Harry was a good child…but there were times when his behavior was far from complimentary." A steely glint hardened in her emerald green eyes. "And the last thing I want is for Nate to gain any of his brother's unsavory tastes."

As if noticing Dumbledore's incredulous expression, James gave the headmaster a hesitant smile and added, "Don't get us wrong, but we loved – no, love Harry with all our hearts," he corrected, stumbling slightly in his error. "We were horrified when we found out we'd lost our son that day during the Quidditch World Cup. He was only a child then…and he died." James raised his chocolate brown eyes and met Dumbledore's glance. "But unlike most parents, we were not blinded by our love for him. We saw him for who he was – a…bothersome needy child craving attention. Harry simply wasn't anything special; he was not the 'Chosen One;' he would never be able to rise up and achieve anything out of the ordinary."

His wife gave him a nod of approval and continued, "And unlike Harry, Nate is special; he is different than everyone else in our world." A proud, loving smile grew upon her face. "He is a hero; he is the 'Chosen One''…and the last thing I'd want him to do is try to be like his brother…like a 'nobody'."

"What are you s-"Dumbledore paused mid-speech as his office erupted with noise. A trickle of trepidation trailed down his back while his mind screamed out denials. But even then, he knew the truth.

The Dark Heir had shattered the magical binds.

The Dark Heir was free.

"James, Lily," Dumbledore stated urgently, turning to face his two subordinates. "There is a...sensitive crisis that I need help with," he said quickly. "However, I cannot risk allowing anyone to find out about it." A flicker of annoyance flashed across his mind as he watched the Potters swell up with pride at his words.

"What do you need Albus?" prompted Lily, as she tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "We'd help you with anything in a heartbeat."

The headmaster gave her a curt nod. "Yes, I know," he stated, giving her a warm smile. "But for this mission, I require nothing more then your word that you'd keep your silence."

Lily blinked. "Albus, you should know us better then that," she accused. "We wouldn't ever reveal any Order information to Death Eaters."

There was a short silence, as the headmaster weighed his options. By dismissing the Potters, he was fairly certain that the pair would somehow take it as an insult. And Nate Potter, most certainly, wouldn't be pleased should his mentor treat his parents with such disdain. His sapphire blue eyes evaluated the couple before him. James had his jaw set in determination, looking as if someone had jabbed at his over-bloated pride one too many times. Lily on the other hand was watching him with sharp, calculating emerald green eyes. A sense of frustration rose in his chest.

He didn't have time for this. The Dark Heir was free and alive. Dumbledore's eyes darkened with fear, as he recalled the cold smile and not-so-there expression in the boy's eyes. Voldemort's death had hit the boy hard. He dearly hoped that the boy was not about to embark upon some last-ditch suicidal attempt at revenge...

Dumbledore chewed his lip worried. "Forgive me Lily, James," he said curtly, "Please follow me." With his midnight blue robes billowing out behind him, he quickly made his way down his spiraled staircase with a pair of grinning Potters in his wake.

'I'm getting too old for this...'

Hospital Wing
"Wands out," ordered Dumbledore, they reached the massive oak doors of the Hospital Wing. A cold sweat dripped down his neck as images of the imminent battle teased his mind. He knew without a doubt that the boy would fight even more aggressively then before. He had seen eyes like the boy's before; those eyes - cold, tired, bitter - belonged to someone who'd lost the will to live. These wizards were always the most deadly and unpredictable. Dumbledore took a deep breath and slammed open the door and dove into an automatic roll...

Only to find...nothing. The hospital wing was not covered in blood and bits of flesh nor did a bunch of curses suddenly implode upon them.

Oh no, not at all.

The hospital was as clean and immaculate as usual; the clean white walls sparkled as the light from the upper windows shone down upon them. The small hospital colts were still in position and, when he looked carefully, he could spy the Dark Heir's lumpy form lying frozen and dead to the world.

"Lily? James? Albus? Merlin, are you mad?"

Dumbledore winced softly, rising stiffly to his feet. "Poppy," he greeted cheerfully, ignoring the nurse's incredulous expression. "It is amazing, of course, what a quick dive could do to jolt ones memories," he said brightly.

There was a short silence, as Pomfrey gave Dumbledore a once over.

Madam Pomfrey's eyes narrowed. "Albus, please, do take a seat," she said in clipped tones, as she motioned to the bed to her left. "Sit, for Merlins sake! You two as well," she ordered, nodding towards the two suddenly weary Potters.

"Now Poppy, don't be hasty..."

Shushing the trio, Pomfrey drew her wand and pointed it at the three of them. "Sit down" she said in her sternest tone, watching with satisfaction as her patients instantly clamped their mouth's shut and did as they were told. Now, circling them like a hawk, Pomfrey began casting an arry of diagnostic charms.

"Poppy, please," begged Albus, after one particularly violent jab to the ribs. "Please...tell," he grunted, as Madam Pomfrey gave him another jab. "...me if you heard the alarm go off in here."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "You mean for your...guest?" she said, curling her lips in disgust. "No, not at all. The boy hasn't even stirred at all since you brought him here." She gave him a tight smile. "Merlin knows, the boy might be dead already for all we know."

Dumbledore's expression grew worried. "Dead!"

"No, unfortunately not. The boy isn't at risk of contracting anything relatively dangerous." With a slight frown, she raised her wand and began jabbing at Dumbledore's temple. "Though, I have to admit, that after that episode, I couldn't help but wonder if the war has addled up your brains," she continued relentlessly. "I mean, honestly, bringing that thing into my ward! Have you lost your wits my dear man!"

Dumbledore gave her a small smile. "I should hope not, Poppy." He winced again. "Though...if you insist upon prodding me so hard, what's left of my sanity might be destroyed."

She huffed grumpily, before turning away from him so as to deliver the same treatment to the Potters. Though, in Dumbledore's opinion, her treatment seemed to be a bit more...violent if James' hurt expression was anything to go by.

"Albus...what," James hissed in pain as Pomfrey's elbow accidentally slammed into his stomach. "...what thing did you bring to Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "That's a secret," he said conspiringly, his sapphire blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "You'll have to find out on your own."

James pouted. "Drats."

"But Albus, if it's suppose to be important wouldn't you need help guarding it?" tried Lily, giving the headmaster her best smile, which promptly disappeared at Dumbledore's next words."

"That is very thoughtful of you," he said calmly. "But it's unnecessary. I have already set up all the necessary precautions."

She nodded sadly. "If you insist."

A yelp of pain resounded, as Pomfrey jammed a wicked looking needle into James arms.

"Bloody hell! What are you doing?" he demanded.

Madam Pomfrey barely gave him a glance. "Testing your blood for chemicals or other deadly toxins," she said evenly. She gave James a once over before deeming him to be healthy and fit. And with that, she turned her glaze towards an uncomfortable Lily.

James sighed in relief.

Finally free from Madam Pomfrey's torture, James hastily made an escape to the other side of the hospital wing, ignoring unfortunately, Dumbledore's protests. Slipping off towards the bed in the furthest corner of the ward, James noticed a thick mop of messy black hair. Though he noted, the boy's face, which was mostly hidden by the sheets, were caked in mud and blood.

James swallowed. There was something about this boy...something familiar. Suddenly filled with trepidation, James hesitantly pulled back the sheets.

He didn't know why, but he had to see the youth's face.

"James, sto-"

But it was too late. By then, James had already lightly lifted the sheets and revealed the boy's face. The young man was evidently fairly tan, had a strong chin, and high cheekbones. But what stopped James in his tracks and give a moan of despair and recognition, was the boy's half-opened emerald green eyes.

"Honey? Are you alright?" demanded Lily, as she marched up to her husband, who'd suddenly turned as pale as a ghost. "Hone-" A shocked gasp resounded about the room, as Lily stared in disbelief at the figure lying before them.

Gods, it couldn't be.

He...he was suppose to be dead!

Lily felt a well of emotions bubble up inside of her. Fear? Disbelief? Joy? She shook her head once again as if to physically clear her mind. It couldn't be, it just...couldn't. Harry had died that night at the Quidditch Match. Both Remus and Sirius had seem Voldemort cast the killing curse on Harry.

They wouldn't lie to us. Not over something this important!

Anger suddenly flared in her eyes. What if...what if by some miraculous event, the killing curse had missed Harry? What if her baby boy hadn't been harmed? She buried her face in her husbands shoulder as tear of anger and pain trickled down. Why hadn't he returned home? Harry hadn't even bothered to even write them a letter after all these years just to let them know that he was alive and well. Did he have no heart? Didn't he know how much pain he'd put our family under!

James found his voice first. "Albus..." he croaked out. "Who..."

Dumbledore remained silent.

A desperate glint appeared in James' eyes. "Tell me, please, Albus," he begged, clenching his hands into fists to stop the trembling. "Please...tell me...who is man is and why he looks so much like our...Harry."

The headmaster sighed softly as he stared at the pale and shaking couple. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "We still haven't discovered the boy's true identity." Dumbledore paused for a second as he picked his next words with care. "But, remember that resemblance aside, the boy is very powerful. It would not do for you to let your guard down."

The Potters nodded in agreement.

"I..." Lily took a deep breath and steadied her voice. "How long do you think it would take for you to find out his true identity?"

Dumbledore chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "I suppose a few weeks. Less, if the boy decides to cooperate."

Lily hesitated for a moment before voicing her concerns. "Albus, I...I don't know why, but I feel that a few weeks may be too long," she said in concern. "I think that we should...put our all into discovering the boy's true identity."

The headmaster frowned at her wording. "Lily, you can't mean -"

"Of course I can," she said stiffly, drawing herself to her full height. "We live in dangerous times Albus, and even though my Nate has defeated Voldemort, there is still much darkness out there. We need to...leave our options open for interrogating the boy."

This time, surprisingly, it was James that interrupted. "Gads Lils!" he exclaimed in horror. "You aren't suggesting that we should torture the information out of him are you!"

Lily gave him a sidelong glance but softened her expression. "James, please, you have to understand. Dumbledore said the boy is dangerous...and with Voldemort's fall, undoubtedly such 'dangerous people' will be out trying to kill our Nate." Her lips twitched at the thought. "We need to be prepared."

James seemed less horrified, but protested all the same. "But Lils, he looks like...Har-"

She waved that aside. "This is war, James. We have to protect our own." Her emerald green eyes focused upon James'. "It doesn't matter what he looks like, acts, or feels. Our Harry died during the Quidditch match years ago. This boy...couldn't possibly be Harry."

Dumbledore choose to interrupt at this moment. "Nonetheless, Lily," he said, giving her a stern glare. "I will not allow anyone to be torture while I'm headmaster here."

"But..."

Madam Pomfrey suddenly moved in between them. "I will not tolerate fighting in the Hospital Wing," she said stiffly, as she gave Lily a hard poke in the stomach. Glaring at the three of them, she motioned towards the door. "Now, if you three will please take your leave..." her expression darkened, "...unless, you'd like to spend the night?" she threatened.

The three of them gulped as one. "No - t hat won't be necessary" "I'll got to do some paperwork" "I...Nate...I " they babbled, before hightailing out of the Hospital Wing.

After all, they'd been poked and prodded enough to last a lifetime.

As soon as, the footsteps disappeared. Madam Pomfrey slumped back into her chair and gave a tired sigh. At that moment, her form began to waver and turn transparent. Within seconds, a sweaty and tired Alex stood in the place where the nurse once was.

'Damn illusions,' he cursed mentally, as he quickly moved over to 'his' colt where a stupefied Madam lay. Alex quickly pulled the blankets over the woman's form. He needed to rest for a few minutes before renewing the illusion. And the last thing that he needed was someone to walk in and find Madam Pomfrey out cold.

Illusions, especially cast wandlessly, typically used up a lot of magical power. Even more so when the user was not familiar with the spell. Alex shook his head sadly. Right before his father's attack on Voldemort, he'd taught him how to cast this illusion 'just in case something happened.' However, much to his dismay, Alex just hadn't ever gotten around to practicing it...

Until now.

A grim smile grew upon his face, as he glanced discreetly over at the collection of hair and blood that he'd collected from Dumbledore and the Potters. He had to thank his father for his training, Alex admitted ruefully. Without it, he was fairly sure he couldn't have pulled off his ruse as Madam Pomfrey. Nor could he sucessfully impersonate the correct...teachers and execute his plans.

Yes, Polyjuice would be a start...

And all those bloody bastards would deserve whatever he threw at them. Alex's eye twitched in annoyance as he recalled Lily's desire to torture the information out of him and his father standing meekly behind. Apparently, even after more then a decade, the Potters haven't changed one bit.

And with that thought in mind, Alex renewed the illusion and reached towards the cabinet and downed a Pepper-up-potion. With that done, he moved briskly towards the entrance.

He had some research to do.