Chapter Twenty-Two: April 1980

Albus Dumbledore was not having a good time lately.

His wife had been devastated since Lucy McGonagall's death. Callum was depressed, and Iolanthe refused to answer any of Minerva's letters. The entire event had turned Minerva's world on its head, and when combined with the war and worry about Lily and James, Minerva was on tenterhooks more often than not.

On top of it all, his Divination professor had decided to retire, leaving Albus in a bit of a pickle. When he had complained about the difficulties he was facing in finding a suitable replacement, Minerva had snapped, "Well then, Albus, remove the damned course from the curriculum and be done with it!"

While Albus didn't entirely disagree with his wife's sentiments, he knew he had to offer the course at Hogwarts. Even if it was often a load of hogwash, Divination had its uses. He kept that thought to himself, though.

Minerva likely would have hit him in the arm with something hard.

Currently, Albus was in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head, sipping tea with a potential candidate. Aberforth had begrudgingly allowed him the use of his sitting room. True to what he said to Minerva, Albus had had a very candid conversation with his brother.

Albus told Aberforth everything: that Athena had travelled through time and reentered Albus' life as Lily Evans.

"I knew the girl looked familiar," Aberforth had said gruffly. "It was odd that Minerva wanted me to protect two students, but when I saw the chit, I realized she looked too much like you to be just any student." Aberforth looked at his brother. "I didn't think it could be Athena, though. Lily's eyes were different, and, of course, I had reason to believe my niece was dead."

Albus had closed his eyes. "I am sorry about that, Aberforth. But I want you to know something: I never would have de-aged my daughter solely to hide her from you."

Aberforth had snorted. "I didn't think that would be the purpose, but a welcome byproduct. After I had calmed down, I did think that maybe you and Minerva had had a daughter together and just never told me."

"I would tell you if I had fathered another child," Albus had said wearily. "Besides, even if I had been disinclined to do so, Minerva would have made me. Come hell or high water."

"She's a good wife to you, you know," Aberforth had said. "Much better than you deserve."

"On that, we most certainly agree," Albus had replied, smiling. "Thank you for taking the time to hear me out. I truly appreciate it."

"Does this mean you want to be friends now?" Aberforth had called after Albus as he moved to leave the Hog's Head. "I can't just stop being mad at you in the blink of an eye."

Albus had stopped and turned. "Not friends, perhaps. I think we can get there in the future, but right now, I'd settle for not being enemies."

Since that conversation, Aberforth had helped Albus with the Order on occasion. Which is why, when Albus needed a secluded place to conduct business—either for Hogwarts or the Order—he went to the Hog's Head. There were few places one could have a private conversation anymore, and Albus was no longer inclined to host candidates at Hogwarts. He feared that someone would be a Death Eater in disguise, and he could never live with himself if he unknowingly brought danger into the castle.

However, listening to this current applicant drone on, Albus knew there was no chance of this woman ever being considered a Death Eater.

They would all kill her out of annoyance.

Sybill Trelawney sat before him, dressed in colourful skirts and billowing shirts that Albus knew would make Minerva snort. Sybill had an affinity for the dramatic; the overarching, grand gestures and sudden changes in her tone of voice were beginning to grate on Albus' nerves. He couldn't be certain if this attitude was the result of her natural personality, anxiety, or the sherry, and Albus wasn't altogether sure he wanted to find out.

But just when he was about to thank her for her time, the air seemed to freeze, and Sybill Trelawney took hold of Albus' hand.

"Madam Trelawney?" Albus asked uncertainly. "Are you quite all right?"

Her eyes were on Albus, but they were unfocused. Then, she did something that Albus had never seen before.

Sybill Trelawney was delivering a prophecy.

And it was about a baby due at the end of July.

The whole situation felt eerie, and Albus knew he would need to relive it in his Pensieve many times if he wanted to understand the nuances of what Sybill's words.

Suddenly, Sybill blinked. "Professor Dumbledore, why are we holding hands?"

Albus quickly released her and lied, "You almost fell out of your chair."

"Ah, yes, that happens sometimes when I feel a certain aura around me."

"I see," Albus said, not paying attention.

"So, do I have it?" Sybill prodded. "The job?"

"You know, I rather think you do." Albus smiled. "I'll send you all of the details tomorrow by owl post, if that's suitable."

"That is, yes," Sybill said. "Thank you very much." She continued speaking, but Albus' attention had been grasped by a floating note coming from the door.

Albus opened it to see Aberforth's familiar scribbly penmanship. "A young boy with black hair greasy enough to fry my food ran down the stairs a moment ago. Not sure how he got up there, mind, but he's gone now. Thought you'd want to know."

"Snape," Albus muttered. He stood. "Will you excuse me, Sybill? It appears that I am needed back at Hogwarts."

Albus left the room before Sybill could utter another word.

He dashed swiftly down the stairs. With a quick nod in his brother's direction, Albus ran out into the streets of Hogsmeade just in time to see the familiar figure of Severus Snape—unmasked—Apparate away.

"Damn it," Albus whispered. He spent an hour wandering around Hogsmeade to ensure it was free of Death Eaters. Then, he passed another hour strolling the halls of Hogwarts. That prophecy—that was what it was, after all—had unmoored him. Was his grandchild destined to be Tom Riddle's equal?

Albus felt the need to see if any other couples were due to give birth at the end of July, but then he realized that it could mean any couple in the United Kingdom, let alone the world.

Merlin knew that whilst Tom Riddle's exploits were largely contained to the island, he had spent several years on the continent.

Still, Albus could not shake the feeling that the prophecy outlined the birth of his own grandchild. He would have spent some time ensconced in his Pensieve, but it was late, and Albus knew he wouldn't sleep if he started to investigate the mystery now. So, he begrudgingly made his way back to the quarters he shared with Minerva.

"How did the interview go?" Minerva asked him sleepily as he finally entered their bedroom and readied himself for bed. "You were certainly gone for a long time."

"I feel like I may have found our new colleague," Albus admitted. "In fact, I believe..."

He trailed off, not wanting to begin an argument about the merits of Divination before bed.

"You believe what?" Minerva turned over to look at him. "You can tell me. I won't judge."

"Are you sure about that?" Albus laughed.

"No, but I promise I'll try," she admitted.

"Well...I believe I witnessed Sybill Trelawney utilize her ancestral gifts." He rolled his eyes and smiled as she snorted into the pillow. "Out with it, my dear."

"I only know that her mother—and grandmother before her—had a talent for guzzling more sherry than anyone else in town," Minerva grumbled. She laughed. "Well, Al, you know what I think of divination and prophecies. Having said that, if anyone were to tell me that someone had a...psychic episode, you are the one person I would believe."

"That's good to know." Albus kissed her head. "Sleep well, my dear."

"What was her episode about? You can't say something like that and not tell me."

Albus sighed. "It was a prophecy of some sort. As for the object of the prophecy, I need time to consider it. I believe I know what it's about. Once I know that I'm right, I'll let you know."

"Albus, my love, you're normally right." Minerva turned over. "Good night."

This time, I sincerely hope I'm wrong, Albus thought as he doused the lights with a flick of his wrist.

Severus Snape panted with anticipation. The Dark Lord had sent him to Hogsmeade to see if any new graduates were hanging around that could serve as possible recruits. He had snuck into the Hog's Head after seeing Albus Dumbledore enter the establishment. Severus had never expected he would be able to break through the protective enchantments and hear a prophecy about his master.

"I am very proud of you, Severussss," the Dark Lord said. "There are very few people who have thrice defied me. And even fewer still who are expecting a baby at the end of July."

"Do you have an idea of who it could be, my lord?" Severus asked eagerly.

"I do, Severus, yes." Lord Voldemort steepled his hands together and looked at his young charge with a look that could almost hold affection. "It is hard to believe that anyone has the power to vanquish me—let alone a baby—but now, I can begin to plan." He sighed. "I believe I can trust you now, Severus."

"You can, my lord." Severus bowed his head in reverence. "It is my sole aim to support you in your endeavours."

"We're so alike, young Severus," Voldemort whispered. "We both didn't have homes until we arrived at Hogwarts. And now, we finally feel like we have a place where we belong."

Severus didn't know what to make of that comparison, so he simply said, "Thank you, my lord."

"I know of two couples that are expecting a baby. Frank and Alice Longbottom have escaped my grasp three times, and Alice is pregnant." Voldemort scoffed. "But I highly doubt any offspring of theirs would ever have the power to vanquish someone of my pedigree."

"Who is the other couple, my lord?"

Voldemort grinned. "Lily and James Potter."

Severus felt the remainder of his heart sink into his stomach. He had heard, of course, that Lily was pregnant, but Severus had done his best not to think about it.

He didn't want any more reminders that Lily had chosen James Potter over him.

But, Severus also knew that he didn't want Lily to die, and that likely meant ensuring no harm came to the baby whilst it was still inside her.

"When was the third time they defied you, my lord?" Severus asked, genuinely knowing of only the attacks at Lily's house and the Godric's Hollow cemetery.

"Do not presume to know more than I do," Lord Voldemort snapped. "I have been fighting since before you were a thought in your Muggle father's head, boy. I know who I have fought and when. You don't know all of my secrets. Do not pretend to."

"I apologize, my lord," Severus murmured, inclining his head. "I never meant to insult you."

"No, of course you didn't," Voldemort said dismissively, and Severus knew that his punishment would go no further.

After all, Severus had just handed him a miracle.

"Now," Voldemort continued, "we must make plans. It will be difficult to find the Potters after our last attack. We must find a way to surprise them, and quickly."

Severus felt his pulse quicken. "My lord, wouldn't it be better to wait until the baby is born?"

"Why would that be?"

"In the event that the Potter girl does not safely deliver the baby, it might be better to choose the Longbottom baby," Severus attempted, grasping at straws. "Wouldn't it be better to be certain of the outcome?"

"I am almost certain the one with great powers will be the offspring of the Potters," Lord Voldemort snapped, and Severus realized that his master knew much more than he would divulge. "Would you like to inform me why you would prefer I target the Longbottom child?"

"I have no agenda, my lord," Severus replied hurriedly.

Severus watched as the Dark Lord looked over him. He did his best not to flinch. It would not serve him to show weakness.

Finally, the Dark Lord whispered, "You were friends with the Mudblood Lily Potter, were you not?"

Severus swallowed. "Yes, my lord."

"You wish to save her if you could?"

Severus picked his next words carefully. "I believe her skills could be of great use to our cause, my lord—even if they were utilized under duress."

Better under duress than dead, Severus thought.

"She is a risk to us all, Severus. I don't believe you know her true power." Lord Voldemort shot Severus a look that spoke volumes. "We will wait until the baby is born. Then, we will slaughter them all. Father, mother, and child. There can be no risk of any of them surviving." He paused. "Remember, you did well tonight, Severus. I will not forget your loyalty."

As Lord Voldemort swooped out of the room with his cloak floating behind him, Severus had a bitter feeling that his loyalty had accomplished nothing but Lily Potter's death sentence.

Three weeks after Albus had heard the so-called prophecy, Minerva was losing her patience. Albus still hadn't told her anything about its subject matter. She poked and prodded her husband—literally and figuratively—but he would not break.

Two could play at that game, Minerva decided.

So, on a Friday night, when Albus was attempting to undo Minerva's robes, she put her hands over his and shook her head. "Nope. Not tonight."

"Is everything all right?" Albus' brow creased in concern. "Did something happen?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"I'm a bit confused, Minerva."

"As am I." She crossed her arms. "I am unaware of anything happening because you have not told me what you heard Sybill Trelawney say."

Albus stiffened. "Minerva, you don't believe in Divination. What does it matter what Sybill said?"

"I may not believe in Divination, but I believe in you," Minerva said plainly. "Whatever she said is troubling you. I would like to know why."

"I don't know how to tell you without worrying you," Albus responded. His eyes were bright with concern. "Besides, it may turn out to be nothing."

"Albus, you have been locked in your office with your Pensieve every moment you could spare. What do you possibly think it could be?"

Albus considered his wife for a moment. He trusted her, but he also did not want to spread word of this prophecy's existence. The fewer people that knew about it, the better, and if that meant excluding Minerva, she would forgive him eventually.

So, he settled on a half-truth.

"Sybill Trelawney's prophecy stated that Lily, James, and their unborn child are threats to Tom Riddle, and therefore are in danger."

Minerva narrowed her eyes. "I could have told you that without a prophecy. Why are you so bothered by what Trelawney said?"

"It seemed to make it certain that they were in imminent danger. That's all I could glean," Albus muttered. He ran his hand over his face and hated that he wanted to keep this secret from his wife, no matter how necessary it was.

"How do you know the baby is included?" Minerva asked quietly. "Not many people know there is a baby."

Albus sighed. "The prophecy was specifically about the baby. I included Lily and James in my original statement because if the baby is in danger, they certainly will be, as well."

"Do we know anything more than that?"

"No, I'm afraid." Albus hesitated. "Well, that's not entirely true."

"Albus?"

"We know that Tom knows."

Minerva closed her eyes. "Someone overheard?"

"Yes. Aberforth caught someone rushing out of the bar."

"It was good of Aberforth to tell you," Minerva said dryly. "Your relationship remains so...inconsistent; sometimes it would seem he would still rather pretend you don't exist."

"Perhaps, but if I were to die in his bar, he'd be asked about me until his own dying day, and my brother would hate that even more than our current relationship." Albus chuckled softly. "At any rate, he told me."

"What do we do about this?" Minerva clasped her hands together and looked at her husband expectantly. "If Riddle thinks there is any truth to this, then he may act accordingly. We need to protect Lily and James' house more than we already have." She frowned. "Although I'm not sure what else we can cast on their house. We've already thrown everything we know at it."

"There is one charm," Albus replied. He met her eyes. "The Fidelius Charm."

"You'll advise against them telling us, wouldn't you? You'd ask them to keep the secret from us, and then we wouldn't be able to see them again until this blasted war is over."

"No, actually. My dear, I would like to be their Secret Keeper."

"Really?" Minerva asked, smiling.

"Other than you, there's no one else I trust to keep them safe—and I would like to keep you safe, so that leaves me." Albus grinned. "Besides, I'd never dream of keeping you away from your grandchild."

Minerva laughed. "I doubt that you could. Now, when are we going to see them, and how much will you tell them?"

"I will not be telling them anything about the prophecy," Albus answered. "I will simply tell them I have reason to worry about the safety of Order members, and that includes them."

"When shall we go? I can send an owl straight away."

"I'll send the letter this time, my dear." Albus patted her hand. "That way, they'll know it's serious."

Six days later, Albus and Minerva arrived at Lily and James' quaint cottage in Godric's Hollow.

"Oh, Lily, you're showing so beautifully!" Minerva exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling like there are three months to go, and I'm counting down every single day," Lily said, patting her swollen stomach. "I'm tired and cranky, but I'm trying to enjoy this time. Thankfully, it will end eventually."

"That it will." Minerva winked.

"Would you care for some tea?" Lily asked. "We've prepared a set; I can get it and bring it straight back."

"I will get the tea," James corrected. "You need to sit down."

As he hurried off, Lily leaned into Minerva and whispered, "He treats me like a doll. It's very annoying, but I suppose that will end when the pregnancy does, won't it?"

Minerva laughed lightly. "With James, you might get lucky and be coddled for a long time after."

"Here we are," James announced. He placed the tea set on the table. "Your letter sounded quite serious, and everything is better over a hot cup of tea."

"Unfortunately, it is serious. Thank you," Albus added, accepting a cup from James. "We wouldn't bother you with a vague and mysterious letter if it weren't."

"Well, please come out with it, then." Lily looked between them all. "If you're aware of my imminent death, I'd prefer to know now."

Albus choked on his tea.

"We're not aware of anyone's imminent death, Lily," Minerva said gently, "but we do have reason to believe that Voldemort is targeting you with renewed vigour."

"Isn't that to be expected?" James asked, his brow creasing. "Since we evaded him at the cemetery, I've rather thought he would bump us up on his list."

"James," Albus said seriously, "we have had some intelligence that Lord Voldemort is considering you and Lily as two of his top targets."

"What intelligence?" Lily asked sharply. "How do you know this?"

Albus had prepared for this question. "You know that the Order has spies. On one of our missions, an Order member overheard that Voldemort is planning on attacking a few of our members, including yourselves."

"Who heard it?" James wondered. "This seems rather vague."

"I did," Albus said simply. "And I wouldn't be worrying you with this information if I wasn't concerned for your welfare."

James and Lily looked at each other. Finally, Lily asked, "What do you suggest we do?"

"I suggest the Fidelius Charm," Albus supplied. "It would safeguard your house and ensure that only your secret keeper could reveal its location. Neither of you would be able to reveal it, meaning that if one of you were captured and tortured, at least the other would be safe."

"You don't think either of us should be our own secret keeper, Albus?" Lily frowned. "Then who would you pick?"

"Me."

James chuckled darkly. "Albus, I appreciate that, but there's no way we're going to let you risk yourself for us."

"It's the least risky option you have," Albus said calmly. "Lord Voldemort will not easily get to me. And if he does, he will not easily capture or torture me. I am as safe a choice as you can make."

"It's not that I don't trust you, Albus, but that's a lot for us to ask of our former Professor," James protested.

"By now, I would hope that you see us as more than simply professors." Albus' voice was quiet, but it rang with emotion that Minerva rarely heard him use.

"He wouldn't offer for just anyone, you know," Minerva added. "Please."

"Can we take a few days to consider it?" Lily asked. "I don't relish the idea of having a child in isolation. What if we need assistance?"

Minerva suppressed a smile at the memory of giving birth to Dalton in isolation, thanks to the first war she had lived through. "A secret keeper doesn't mean that everyone is barred entry. It would only mean that there would be limited and controlled access."

"I don't like that idea," James said, shaking his head. "I'll be fine with it after the baby is born, but I do not want Lily giving birth with limited access to help. What if our secret keeper tells Poppy, and then Poppy is unavailable for the actual birth? What if we can't reach our secret keeper? What if they can't tell another Medi-Witch in time?"

Minerva realized that her son was making a very good point.

"If I were your secret keeper," Albus said, still calm, "you wouldn't have to worry about that. I can make myself available. I can sit at the Manor for all of July until you have the baby, if that suits you."

"While I appreciate that, babies are unpredictable," Lily responded gently. "I'm not due until the end of July, but what if the baby comes two months early? You have duties at Hogwarts and with the Order. This charm can wait until after the baby is born. We are not as important as the rest of the world."

Minerva and Albus shared the same thought: but you are.

A few weeks later, after numerous failed attempts to convince Lily and James to enact the Fidelius Charm early, Albus received an ominous note.

Meet me on the hill near the Cotswolds' wizarding community at half past eleven tonight. You'll want to come. This is not a threat.

"What the hell?" Albus murmured. He suddenly wished he hadn't opened it at breakfast; Minerva and her catlike ears overheard him.

"What is it?" she asked, leaning over to pour herself some more water. "Bad news?"

"Not bad news, no." Albus shook his head. "It's an odd note."

"From whom?"

Albus quickly made the decision to fib. "Aberforth. He wants me to go to the bar tonight to visit him."

"Well, that's certainly odd, but I think that's a good development." Minerva smiled at him. "It's lovely if he's reaching out. Will you be gone long?"

"Honestly, Minerva? I'm not entirely sure."

"I think this is a good thing," Minerva declared, biting into her scone. "It's about time you two had another conversation."

Albus folded the note into his robes and smiled at his wife through closed lips.

Close to midnight, after kissing Minerva goodbye and promising not to be too late, Albus left the castle grounds and Apparated away to the destination noted in the brief letter.

He arrived on a hill and immediately cast an invisibility charm upon himself. Albus had a guess about who he was meeting, and he wanted to reveal himself after the fact. Scare Severus Snape silly.

And, on the off chance it wasn't Snape, Albus didn't want to be ambushed.

Suddenly, the shivering, whimpering figure of Severus Snape appeared on the hill a few feet away from him. The boy looked nervous, and Albus didn't blame him.

After all, their shared history left much to be desired.

With a flash, Albus Apparated closer to Snape, letting the invisibility charm fall away.

"Hello, Severus." Albus' tone was polite, but frosty. "Are you here to give me a message from Lord Voldemort?"

Severus winced. "No, I'm not."

"Then why have you summoned me here this evening? I hardly doubt you simply wanted to say hello."

"I have overheard a prophecy pertaining to the Dark Lord," Severus said quickly. He told Albus what he knew, and as he did so, Albus realized that the boy hadn't heard all of Sybill's prophecy.

Snape—and therefore Tom—knew nothing of Tom marking the baby as his equal.

Interesting.

"Why are you telling me this, Severus?" Albus asked coldly.

Severus looked as though he wanted to vomit. "I care...you must know...you do know...I do not want Lily Potter to die. I have asked the Dark Lord to spare her, and he refuses."

Albus felt rage boil within his belly. "You care for her now? Not when you overheard the prophecy and went running back to your master?"

Severus paled. "I had no way of knowing it was about her. The Dark Lord is convinced the prophecy refers to Lily. It's not like I brought up her name! I asked him to save her!"

"Do you think nothing of her husband or the baby she carries?" Albus asked contemptuously. "You would have let them die simply to save Lily?"

"Yes, if you must know," Snape snapped. "I know that's not how you operate, but—."

"Of course it's not how I operate," Albus thundered. "You should want to save all of them because they are all worthy of being saved—not just Lily because you love her."

"Will you protect them, then? Protect them all?"

Albus considered the young man kneeling before him. Of course, Albus had already planned to protect Lily. She was his daughter, after all. But, if he could gain something out of this entire ordeal, Albus was not inclined to turn away an opportunity.

"I will—but what will I get in return, Severus?"

"In return?" Severus gulped. "Anything."

Albus smiled softly. "Then we have a deal."