I don't own Harry Potter or the A-Team. They belong to Joanne Rowling and Stephen J. Cannell & Frank Lupo respectively.

I Love It When a Prophecy Comes Together

A desperate letter from Lily Potter to her old friend Templeton Peck starts the A-Team on a job that will take them almost two decades to complete… The destruction of Lord Voldemort and the guardianship of Harry Potter, hereafter known as The Fixer. *cue music*

Dear Templeton

I know that we haven't seen each other since 1979, Templeton. You're busy trying to stay ahead of Lynch and his cronies so that you can one day prove your innocence. I, meanwhile, have been rebuilding a family out of the shattered remnants that remain after the car crash that killed Mum and Dad.

I know we never knew each other that well, Templeton, but we are cousins and blood is thicker than water. You know what I am. I told you and you accepted it. Now I ask… no I beg for your help… Harry, my son, is in grave danger. The man I told you about, the one we do not name, has targeted my baby boy for death. I don't know why except there is prophecy is involved. I don't really care about that.

I remember you telling me that if I was ever in trouble that I could hire the A-Team. Well here I am asking to hire you. Protect Harry and stop the monster who hunts him. I will hold out as best I can until you can get here. Please, Templeton… Hurry.

Love from

Lily

Hannibal Smith turned to his resident expert in manipulation and raised a questioning eyebrow. Templeton 'The Faceman' Peck had asked his boss to read the letter, obviously asking Hannibal if they could take the job. Smith's problem was that he really didn't know what to think of the letter. It was absolutely rife with code-words and in-crowd phrases like 'the one we do not name' and 'you know what I am' and 'prophecy'. "I know you want me to agree to this, Face, but you're gonna have to give me more than this?" He gestured at the letter disgustedly. "I don't understand half of what she's saying except that some nut job is out to kill her kid."

Face wrung his hands, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable, especially so since he wasn't currently running a con for them. The man could, but rarely did, pull off vulnerability when he had to, but it didn't come naturally. "Lily is my cousin. She's part of a closed society that's in Britain. I met her a couple of times before 'Nam and then once more after, back in '79. You remember, when we split up for a bit?"

Hannibal chewed on his cigar and glared at his subordinate. "Yes, Face. I remember. Now get on with it, Lieutenant."

Face instinctively came to attention at the snap of irritated command that had entered Smith's voice. "Right. Well… Lily's a witch…"

Peck was faintly surprised to see that Hannibal didn't so much as flinch, looking patently unsurprised. "Okay… I assume you mean the wand-waving kind and not some pagan chick that dances about naked?"

Face once more tried to gather himself. He'd known Hannibal was experienced, but he was surprised that the man had known about the secret society. Finally he gathered himself and began moving his story forward. "Okay, so there's this wizard that's really bad news in Britain. Lily wouldn't name him. She said his name was taboo or something, which tells you just how bad he must be. She's concerned that Harry is being targeted by this nut-job and is hoping we can bring our own unique brand of mayhem to bear and solve her problem."

Hannibal puffed at his cigar, considering the situation. A man that they wouldn't even name. A wizard bad guy. That promised to be a tough mission, but his people were the very best. The colonel blew out a smoke ring and offered up a childlike smirk. "I suppose we need to go to Britain then, eh Face?"

"Errr… I guess so, Boss…"

"Then I guess you'd better figure out how you're going to knock out B.A. for the plane ride over there…"

"Oh Boss…" Face whined.

"Remember Face… You asked for this job. That means you get the dubious honour of knocking out B.A."

"I still can't believe y'all knocked me out… again. And then you put me on a plane… again. Haven't I told you how much I hate planes, Hannibal?"

"Just concentrate on Privet Drive, B.A. You can rant at us some more later. I promise that I've got a nice boat booked to take us back to the States. We were just in a hurry to get here."

"I don't believe you, Hannibal. I don't believe there is a boat. I think y'all are tryin' to trick me again. Well it ain't gonna work this time, Hannibal. This time there is gonna be a boat, or I'm gonna get mad. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you, B.A. Now how does it look?"

"Can't say I'm impressed, Hannibal. I've never seen a more miserable lookin' bunch of folks. Did you see the looks I was getting' when I was just walkin' down their street. You'd think those folks had never seen a black guy before."

Face snorted. "I don't know what offended them more, B.A. It could have been your race, your haircut, your van or most likely your tax bracket. The people in this neighbourhood put the mental in judgemental."

"You said a mouthful, Face. These people are crazy. Take it from an expert."

The other members of the A-Team turned to the speaker, one H.M. Murdock, and just marveled at the idea that the mentally unstable pilot had judged other people to be unstable. Not that they disagreed, of course, they were just marveling at the irony of it all.

Face pursed his lips. "We can't leave the kid here, Boss. I think we're agreed?"

Hannibal nodded grimly. "Even if they weren't abusive of him in the normal sense, they'd just treat him like their own son, which might actually be worse. The problem is, what do we do with him? An orphanage or foster care wouldn't be much better and might well be worse."

"I want to take him, Hannibal."

Smith actually spat out his cigar over that one. "You what? Face, are you on something? We're on the run from the government. What kind of a life can we possibly give him?"

Face shrugged. "A life with a father, grandfather and two uncles that care about him. A life that allows him to help others. A life learning the life skills of four of the best operators in the business. A life that will make him hard to nail down for this unnamed guy. Personally, I think we could do pretty well by the kid."

Hannibal stood frozen for a long moment as he actually considered the Lieutenant's mad scheme. He was shocked to find that, as absurd as it sounded, it might be the best choice for young Harry Potter. "Okay Face, here's what we're going to do…"

Petunia Dursley was a perfectly miserable person, thank you very much. Ever since that little Potter brat had arrived on her doorstep a week prior, she had been forced to put with raising not one but two toddlers. Her own Dudley was exhausting enough. She didn't need to be putting up with the Potter child's constant crying and begging for Mummy, Daddy and Padfoot, whoever that last was. Nasty unnatural name. Padfoot was certainly one of those freaks, hopefully a dead one. He or she certainly deserved it for having the audacity to be called by such a name.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Maybe it was those darned Jehovah's Witnesses agains. Oh how she'd like to show them the business end of her frying pan. She ripped the door open to find a dark-haired man in a suit, wearing glasses and holding out his hand. "Hello there, Mrs. Dursley. I'm Charles Potter. I was hoping I could prevail upon you to transfer custody of my nephew to me…"

Petunia Dursley could not sign the paperwork fast enough. She didn't even read half of the things that she was signing. She just wanted the freak out of her house… both freaks, really, because this Potter man had to be a freak too, despite his nice suit. Harry Potter, age one, was out the door with his supposed uncle in less than fifteen minutes flat.

After taking custody of Harry away from Petunia Dursley, Templeton Peck than put his keen mind to forging a new life for his new son. He started by inventing a mother. He used a conveniently deceased homeless woman who was native to Britain and had been alive and of an age where she could still have conceived a child back 1979. With that accomplished, Peck forged Harry's new birth certificate. Tristan Harold Peck was born. Face smirked. The A-Team had just gotten a little bigger. "I love it when a plan comes together…"

Oh what I did…

If you'd like to take this plot off my hands just drop me a line via the reviews...

Jasper